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The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 801    |    Released on: Today at 14:48

na De

n jewel of the New York social season; it was a

here blood was shed in

erse notification that he would pick me up

he ballroom on

ptics of this better than anyone. The Consigliere e

tarina," Mark murmured, his eye

aid, my voi

A dress that clung to my curves like a

table, the prime real estate

oors swung open. Alessandro w

course. Playing the inno

tators at a tennis match. The disrespect was so loud it was deafening. He

frowned. He didn't like that I was with Mark. He didn't like that I

Sculptures. Vintage wines that

neer brought out

rare blue diamonds that had once b

a symbol of the De Luca matri

to his sleeve. She whispered something in his ear,

expression indulgent.

llion,"

owd. He was buying the famil

burning beneath my makeup. This w

paddle, my m

on," I sai

me. His jaw tightened, a mu

five," he

shot back without a

and wife, warring over the family

Alessandro said,

link. "Fiv

d spend every cent in our joint account

paddle for

He frowned, confusion marring his p

microphone, his voice echoing in the sudde

, my voice cuttin

e seems to be a hol

olute, crush

d at Al

ne under the table. He

, arrogant expression. *Kno

't about the money. It was the leash. He was

. "Use my account," he

gly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, sir. The De Luca family trust

ssandro using

s tr

is gavel, the sound like a gunsh

d to the stage, took the neck

diamonds sparkled against her skin, a mo

ed. Polite, ter

back was straigh

cry. I di

h over me. I let it soak

umiliatio

hought he had won. He though

d just handed me the weap

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The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
“I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.”