The Mafia Bride's Lethal Revenge

Isabella POV

The heavy, suffocating feeling from the sedative subsided much faster than my new husband had expected. Years of arduous surgical training had given me a powerful metabolism, allowing me to quickly break free from the medication's effects.

Before I even opened my eyes, my senses had already scanned the room. A strong aroma of bourbon mingled with the sweet scent of another woman's perfume.

I slowly opened my eyes. The Onyx Suite at the Grand Casino Hotel Moretti was a magnificent monument to the Mafia's extravagant lifestyle, its cold black marble and gilded decorations creating a striking contrast. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the neon-lit Chicago skyline illuminated the center of the room. There, on a huge black velvet bed, my husband, Julian Moretti, was entangled with his mistress.

I was roughly thrown into a dark corner, the custom-made white wedding dress piled around me like a discarded corpse. This was Julian's carefully orchestrated scheme-a deliberate and cruel humiliation designed to ruin Rossi's eldest daughter's wedding night.

He thought he had married a sheep, but he had no idea that he had dragged a wolf into a cage.

On the bed, the woman-if my information is correct, her name is Dalia Vance-hunched over and saw me in the shadows. Instead of stopping, she curled her lips into a cruel, triumphant smile.

"You're awake," Dalia said softly, her voice sweet with a hint of venom. She reached out and stroked Julian's sweaty chest. "You'll get used to this, baby. You should stay here-in the corner, watching."

Julian didn't even bother to look back at me; he was still working hard.

I pushed myself up from the ground, the cold marble seeping through the torn fabric and soaking into my skirt. I didn't cry, nor did I scream. I simply brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, letting the mask of a submissive mafia princess shatter completely.

"You guys are disgusting," I said, my voice cold and clear, echoing in the empty suite.

Julian was stunned. He finally turned his head, his deep eyes narrowing as if listening to me.

I tilted my head, my gaze sweeping over them with utter disgust. "A bitch and her lackey. A perfect match."

A deafening silence followed. Julian's face contorted into a mask of pure, undisguised rage. He shoved Dalia aside, got out of bed, and walked toward me.

"You idiot," he roared, his fists clenched. "I'm going to teach you how to talk to people who are higher up than you."

He closed the distance, thinking I would back down. He raised his hand, signaling me to deliver a powerful punch in return.

I remained motionless. I waited until he was completely within my attack range before making a move.

I spun around with lightning speed, my heel striking his common peroneal nerve on the outside of his thigh with a resounding crack. Julian's leg instantly lost its balance, his nervous system seemingly short-circuiting. He staggered forward, gasping for breath in terror, and I swiftly raised my elbow, striking his solar plexus hard.

The air in his lungs suddenly shot out. Julian fell to his knees, clutching his chest, his face flushed purple, unable to breathe.

I stood before him, straightening the tattered straps of my robe. "With muscles like yours, you can't even protect your own vitals," I sneered, looking down at his trembling body. "How pathetic."

I turned my gaze to the bedside. Dalia froze, her eyes wide with fear. I looked her up and down.

"You can take him away," I said, my tone dripping with boredom. "I never accept substandard goods, especially not such an...immature guy."

The insult snapped Dalia out of her shock. Overwhelmed with shame, her face flushed crimson. "You bitch!" she screamed, leaping off the bed, her fingernails exposed, and lunging at me.

It was a reckless and impulsive attack. I didn't even bother to back down. As she closed in, I simply shifted my weight, grabbed her outstretched wrist, and twisted it forcefully. Using her momentum, I pushed her to the ground.

Dalia lost her balance, screamed, and fell heavily onto the cold, black marble floor. She curled up in a ball, whimpering in pain; her feigned bravery had completely crumbled.

Julian collapsed to the floor, finally catching his breath. He looked up at me, his arrogance replaced by a burning, venomous hatred. He realized then that it was too late; the power dynamics in the room had drastically shifted.

"I'm going to annul this marriage," Julian said through gritted teeth, panting heavily, "and then... I'm going to kill you."