The Mafia Don's Runaway Collateral Wife

The Mafia Don's Runaway Collateral Wife

Qiang Weiwei

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Six years ago, I was given to New York's most ruthless mafia Don as collateral to pay off my father's gambling debt. After one terrifying, pitch-black night with him, his grandfather framed me for treason and threw me out onto the freezing streets. They threw me away, not knowing I was pregnant with his triplets. Now, I only came back to his city to get his signature on our divorce papers so my children and I could disappear to Europe. But his men ambushed us at the airport and dragged us to his underground interrogation room. Damien threw a DNA consent form on the steel desk, staring at my fierce five-year-old son with dark reverence. "Sign the paper. Or I will personally forge him into the sharpest weapon this family has ever seen." I was trembling with absolute terror. He believed the lies that I had sold his family's secrets and abandoned his firstborn heir for money. I didn't understand why this monster wouldn't just let me go, but I couldn't let him drag my innocent babies into his violent hell. Just as I tearfully picked up the pen to surrender, the room plunged into darkness, and a digital threat hijacked his monitors. My other five-year-old son had hacked the Don's network, starting a 60-second countdown to wipe out all his billions. Damien was forced to yield, but when the steel doors opened, his severely traumatized, silent six-year-old heir walked in-and immediately curled into my arms. Damien stared at us in shock, then slowly tore my divorce papers into pieces. "The deal is off."

The Mafia Don's Runaway Collateral Wife Chapter 1 1

Isabella POV

I woke up gasping, the phantom weight of a massive body still crushing the breath from my lungs.

My hands gripped the narrow armrests of the airplane seat, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The stale, recycled air of the cabin slowly replaced the phantom scents that had just suffocated me in my sleep: expensive leather, rain, and the sharp bite of whiskey.

Six years had passed, yet the memory of that blackout in the JFK Hilton presidential suite still hunted me. I had been ordered to wait there, a silent display of power for a rival family. Instead, the storm killed the power, and a monster walked in. He was heavy, frantic, and violent-like a wounded beast. I fought him in the pitch black. I clawed at his skin, and in a final act of desperation, I sank my teeth into his shoulder until I tasted blood.

*"Maledizione,"* (Curse it) he had rasped against my ear in Italian, a painful, guttural sound that still echoed in my nightmares.

I didn't know his face, but every instinct screamed it was the man who owned me. Damien Moretti.

I turned my head, looking out the small oval window. Beneath the clouds, the gray, unforgiving skyline of New York City pierced the horizon like the teeth of a predator. I was flying back into the jaws of hell.

I was never supposed to be a wife. I was a *Collateral*. A blood debt contract signed in a sterile lawyer's office to pay off my father's gambling sins. Damien hadn't even looked at me when he signed the papers. To the heir of the Moretti empire, I wasn't a human being; I was a breathing piece of property, locked away in a remote Long Island estate for six months, untouched and unseen.

Until that night at the Hilton.

And then came the purge. A week after the assault, while my body was still bruised and my soul shattered, Vittorio 'The Old Wolf' Moretti summoned me. Damien's grandfather didn't care about the truth. To him, my commoner blood was a stain on their royal mafia lineage. He branded me a traitor, stripped me of the Moretti name, and had his Soldiers throw me onto the freezing New York streets with nothing but the clothes on my back.

I touched my stomach instinctively, though it had been flat for years. They threw me away, not knowing I was carrying the consequences of that dark room.

"Mom?"

I blinked, pulling myself out of the abyss. Alessandro was looking at me from the seat across the aisle, his dark eyes-so terrifyingly familiar-studying me with a calm calculation that didn't belong on a five-year-old's face. He pushed his small glasses up his nose. "Your heart rate is elevated. Are you having a panic attack?"

"I'm fine, Alex," I whispered, forcing a reassuring smile.

Next to him, Marco was practically vibrating with restless energy, kicking the back of the empty seat in front of him, his jaw set in a fierce pout. And tucked against my side, Chiara slept soundly, her small fingers curled tightly around her worn teddy bear.

Three beautiful, innocent souls. My triplets. They were the only light that came from the darkest night of my life.

I reached into my tote bag, my fingers brushing against the thick manila envelope. The divorce papers. I needed Damien's signature to finalize the severance. Without it, I couldn't get the passports for the kids. I couldn't take them to Europe. I couldn't truly disappear.

The plane banked sharply, and the screech of the tires hitting the John F. Kennedy International Airport tarmac sent a violent shudder through the cabin.

My grip on the envelope tightened until my knuckles turned white. I was back in his city. Back in his territory. I just needed to get through customs, force the devil to sign away his claim on me, and get out before the Moretti family ever realized what I had brought with me.

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“Six years ago, I was given to New York's most ruthless mafia Don as collateral to pay off my father's gambling debt. After one terrifying, pitch-black night with him, his grandfather framed me for treason and threw me out onto the freezing streets. They threw me away, not knowing I was pregnant with his triplets. Now, I only came back to his city to get his signature on our divorce papers so my children and I could disappear to Europe. But his men ambushed us at the airport and dragged us to his underground interrogation room. Damien threw a DNA consent form on the steel desk, staring at my fierce five-year-old son with dark reverence. "Sign the paper. Or I will personally forge him into the sharpest weapon this family has ever seen." I was trembling with absolute terror. He believed the lies that I had sold his family's secrets and abandoned his firstborn heir for money. I didn't understand why this monster wouldn't just let me go, but I couldn't let him drag my innocent babies into his violent hell. Just as I tearfully picked up the pen to surrender, the room plunged into darkness, and a digital threat hijacked his monitors. My other five-year-old son had hacked the Don's network, starting a 60-second countdown to wipe out all his billions. Damien was forced to yield, but when the steel doors opened, his severely traumatized, silent six-year-old heir walked in-and immediately curled into my arms. Damien stared at us in shock, then slowly tore my divorce papers into pieces. "The deal is off."”
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Chapter 1 1

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Chapter 2 2

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Chapter 3 3

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Chapter 4 4

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Chapter 5 5

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Chapter 6 6

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Chapter 7 7

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Chapter 8 8

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Chapter 9 9

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Chapter 10 10

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Chapter 11 11

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Chapter 12 12

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Chapter 13 13

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Chapter 14 14

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Chapter 15 15

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Chapter 16 16

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Chapter 17 17

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Chapter 18 18

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Chapter 19 19

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Chapter 20 20

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Chapter 21 21

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Chapter 22 22

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Chapter 23 23

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Chapter 24 24

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Chapter 25 25

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Chapter 26 26

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Chapter 27 27

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Chapter 28 28

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Chapter 29 29

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Chapter 30 30

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Chapter 31 31

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Chapter 32 32

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Chapter 33 33

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Chapter 34 34

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Chapter 35 35

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Chapter 36 36

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Chapter 37 37

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Chapter 38 38

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Chapter 39 39

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Chapter 40 40

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