My Mafia Husband

Chapter 1

In Dallas, Texas, Diego anxiously waited at 9:45 AM for his wife and children to arrive. Diego, a self-made billionaire, was known for his pride and ruthlessness. Despite his wealth, he never left a penny for his wife, Vivian, before heading to work. Vivian, beautiful and dedicated, rarely changed her clothes because Diego neglected her needs.

Diego treated Vivian not as a partner but as a servant, yet she remained deeply in love with him. Her affection for Diego was strong, despite his cruelty. However, something had changed recently, and Diego found himself barely thinking of his once adored wife.

Vivian, a housewife, spent her days at home. She had often wanted to work, to find some purpose outside of her household duties. But every time she mentioned this to Diego, he would dismiss her harshly, sometimes even resorting to physical violence. Vivian, heartbroken and confused, often found herself talking to the walls.

"Could this be Diego? Is this really him? Why is he so heartless? Why is he treating me like this?" she would mutter to herself, lost in thought.

One such day, as she was deep in her thoughts, Vivian forgot she had something cooking on the stove. The smell of burning food jolted her back to reality, and she rushed to the kitchen. But it was too late; the food was burnt. Frustrated and tired of her life, she let out a scream of anger.

Meanwhile, Diego was at his company, preparing for its 28th anniversary. It was midnight when he finally left the office, exhausted and worn out. He arrived home around 2:00 AM. Despite the late hour, Vivian had stayed up to prepare his favorite meal: steak and mashed potatoes. Diego, however, was in no mood to eat. Hungry but filled with rage, he slammed the door behind him, startling Vivian.

She approached him cautiously, offering the plate of food. Diego, eyes filled with anger, threw the plate at her, the steak and mashed potatoes splattering against her. The glass of wine she had poured for him followed, shattering against her face. A sharp piece of glass cut her cheek deeply, and blood began to flow.

Vivian, in pain and barely able to breathe, pleaded with Diego to help her. But he stood there, motionless, staring at her with contempt. "You smell," he sneered, "and you wear the same clothes for a week."

Desperate, Vivian grabbed a scarf to staunch the bleeding, then found iodine, cotton wool, and a bandage to clean and dress the wound. All the while, Diego mocked her, laughing cruelly at her suffering. Despite everything, her beauty remained undiminished, though her spirit was battered.

As she tended to her wound, Diego finally spoke. "You're pathetic," he said coldly. "You can't even handle a little cut without making a fuss."

Vivian said nothing, her silence filled with pain and sorrow. She had loved Diego once, with all her heart, but now she was beginning to see the man he truly was: a heartless tyrant who took pleasure in her suffering.

The next morning, Diego left for work without a word. Vivian, left alone, cleaned up the mess from the night before. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, the cut on her face a stark reminder of Diego's cruelty. She knew she couldn't continue living like this, but she felt trapped, bound by her love for a man who no longer cared for her.

Days turned into weeks, and Vivian continued to endure Diego's abuse. He would come home late, drunk and angry, and she would be there, waiting for him, hoping for a change that never came. One evening, as she sat alone in the living room, the doorbell rang. Startled, she opened the door to find a stranger standing there.

"Vivian?" the man asked, his voice gentle. "I'm Ethan, Diego's business partner. Can I come in?"

Confused, Vivian stepped aside to let him in. Ethan looked around the house, taking in the signs of neglect and the tension in the air. "I needed to talk to you," he said, his voice low. "Diego... he's been different lately. Distant. I wanted to make sure you're okay."