His Mafia Princess's Revenge

phin

or deals that shaped the city's underworld. He ends the call, presses a brief, possessive kiss to

grand staircase, Isabella's

p a single, folded document. "He signed them this morning," she says, her voice a triumphant whi

ng to dust in my chest. Divorce papers. He'd signed them. The man w

e gloats, her eyes glittering with malice. "I

and I feel... nothing. Just a vast, cold empti

light tightening of her jaw, the way her smile becomes a

tures, the heavy front door clicks open again.

hand, her nails digging into my skin. "I'm sorry, I was

she shove

zying blur of chandelier and floor as I tumble down the grand staircase. I land in a crumpled heap at t

then throws herself down the stairs, landing art

lood blooming on my dress. For a fraction of a second, I see a flash of

. "She pushed me, Enzo!" she cries, clutching her

ask of frantic worry. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asks her, his voice choked

a white-hot nova inside me. A laugh escapes my lips-a raw, bro

world go

te hospital room. Lorenzo i

a white coat enters. "Report

o his chart. "Sir, the baby? According to our reco

hand shoots out, deliberately knocking the glass of water from the bedside table. It

my child," he snarls, his voice low and lethal. "You lied to

me! The divorce papers, the fall-it was all her! Check the security f

f doubt-small but undeniable-cr