Jilted Wife? I Am The Underworld Boss

Chapter 5

Word Count: 665 | Released on: 11/06/2026

ulled out his tablet again and ra

the civil registry certificate provided by Mr

ds sti

noxious laughter. She poin

rought a counterfeit marriage cer

hbors. "Did you hear that? This crazy woman is try

ght from foot to foot, but he refused to utter a sing

d to organize our tax files. He had asked for my ID, my birth records,

he sorted my tax forms, superimposed itself upon the present image of him cradling an

ps, leaving a heavy, sluggish sensation, so that even th

said, the words possessing no vibratio

ched against the

ad on his chest. "He just woke up one day and refuse

ance. "The house, the money, and the man

rve of her lips. "Remember those words,

house, no husband, and fake records. H

ce sirens echoed

sidewalk, waving her arms f

rtyard. Mrs. Vance threw herself towar

espassing! She tried to ass

he fragile victim. "She is unhinged.

nt to press charges, officers. I just want

phones closer, live-strea

ops. "I am not divorced. This house is unsold. These p

y ID, and they ran i

as single. As far as the county records are concerned, this is a civil pro

are telling me to walk

leave voluntarily, we will have to issue you a citation for trespassing and di

own. "Get out! Stop bringi

ing to remain steady. I pulled out my phone to summon the

Chapter End

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Jilted Wife? I Am The Underworld Boss

WILONA COOK Mafia

“I am the head of the Bianco syndicate. I trusted my quiet, civilian husband, Simon, to guard my ancestral estate while I expanded our legitimate empire out of state. I rushed home after receiving an alert that my five-million-dollar property was sold, only to find Simon cradling a newborn baby with his mistress in my desecrated courtyard. The mistress, Rachel, smugly declared she now owned my house and my husband, using a forged divorce agreement and IDs Simon had secretly stolen from my private safe. "Simon divorcing you was an escape from misery, because no real man wants a cold machine in his bed." They played the victims for the live-streaming neighbors, and Rachel tossed my late father's sacred mafia relics into the mud, stomping on his photograph and laughing about melting his legacy for scrap metal. I stared at the pathetic coward I had married, sickened and bewildered that the man who once vowed to protect my home could steal my inheritance and casually destroy my bloodline's honor for a cheap affair. As the local police tried to arrest me for defending my father's memory, my syndicate's armored convoy suddenly barricaded the street, and I prepared to leave the traitors nothing but ashes.”