The Mafias Good Wife

Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon

Rum Runner

I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate. The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed. The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent. He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to. I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire? As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time. "Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival. "But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head." I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground.

Modern Revenge Bankruptcy Billionaires Female-Centered Ex-wife

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Sofia.

4:00 AM

Groaning as I got awakened by certain noises I couldn't point out and that weren't very far away from my isolated cabin. Geez, couldn't a person sleep in peace? I repetitively groaned and moaned in annoyance.

"The heck?" I tried turning on the light just to be instantly disappointed. Why right the fudge now, Gods?

I subtly looked out the window of my bedroom to glimpse a tainted black SUV and two men dressed in black clothing, dragging another....man out of the trunk like a sack of damn potatoes and throwing him near the thick bushes on the side to speed out and leave me still shocked at what the heck just happened?

Why would they do that? Who were they? is that man still alive? Oh crap, what if he's dead?

I...have a dead body on my fucking property!

My hands shook as I sweat dropped and began pacing around in the dark. What am I going to do? How the hell am I supposed to call the ambulance or the Sheriff when the electricity was off and my phone dead? What if they returned and came after me?!

"No, no, no! Positive thoughts, Sofia. Get out of your head!" Realizing that I had been cooped up in my thinking and shocked state, I shook off that fear that the dangerous looking men might have killed an innocent human being and threw him near my home.

And might possibly, kinda, maybe, perhaps, come after me if they were still out there.

I discarded that last thought, a slither of rationality coming back to me.

Maybe they thought that my cabin was abandoned, right? They weren't coming back, here...?

Oh Crap.

I quickly threw on my black hoodie on my hanger and wore my Crocs as I held onto my small flashlight and small swiss knife- for safety measures- to help the injured and possibly half dead man outside.

The cold breeze made my skin prickle like gooseflesh as I opened my door, hushed prayers leaving my lips hastily before I jogged in the direction that I'd seen those monsters throw the man.

As I near the thick bush I start hearing, faint groaning and hissing coming from him, I sighed out a breath of relief that the man was still alive.

Softly approaching the badly injured stranger. I found him laid on his back with his dark brown locks on his forehead shielding me from seeing his eyes as I pointed the flashlight at him.

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