The Don's Wife's Sweetest Revenge

Chapter 3

Word Count: 798 | Released on: 10/10/2025

ella

oom, the glass walls feeling like a cage. I needed to

y doctor, arranging for a house call, playing the part of the devoted husband. The performance was flawless. He was the most powerful man in the city, f

me. The shaking stopped. The nausea receded. What remained

chen. He hung up the phone

make me feel better. We should have your parents o

hen wary. "Dinner? Tom

finished for him. "I

fusing a family dinner with his parents, the former Don and his wife, would be

e words tight. "I'll mov

ed out of bed and went back to his study. His laptop was on the desk, sleeping

n folder. Insi

e of my silk robes, the one he'd bought me in Paris. She was holding up her hand

o the camera, her voice dripping with ve

sed her, a deep, possessive kiss that he used to g

ike watching a movie about two strangers. The woman on the screen, Isabella Moretti

across the empty space in the bed. "Bella

cold as marble. I laid a hand on his

whispered into

ng at 6 a.m. It was on the nightstand, a blatant

the phone, his voice rough

ou breakfast," he announced, a grand gesture to make u

e, he said, "This house is too much for you. We sh

e. The words hung in

r than I intended. "This is m

expression on his face. "Be

tally clueless, that a real laugh almo

looking him straight in the eye

ked. He believed it. He truly be

kissed my forehead. "I have to go. T

out, I said h

tur

xed?" I asked casually. It was a commitment he'd

m on it," he said, a little too quickl

Chapter End

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The Don's Wife's Sweetest Revenge

WILONA COOK Mafia

“For fifteen years, I was Isabella Moretti, the perfect wife to the city's most powerful Don. We were a power couple, a carefully curated masterpiece of influence and affection. Our life was flawless. That masterpiece shattered on our anniversary when a burner phone lit up with a picture of his assistant's hand on my husband's thigh. Soon, I found his second phone and discovered the full scope of his betrayal. His mistress, Sofia, was pregnant. He lied to my face about "work emergencies" while she began a campaign of terror, sending me photos of them together, a grainy ultrasound, and a video of her parading in my silk robe, bragging about becoming the new Mrs. Moretti. I was supposed to endure it in silence. That's the rule for a Don's wife. But all the pain hollowed out, leaving only a cold, chilling certainty. He truly believed I was nothing without him. "Where would you go, Bella?" he'd once laughed, his voice dripping with condescension. "Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me. You wouldn't last a week." He thought it was a game. "I'll take that bet," he'd said. So while he was away on a final "business trip" with her, I made my move. I liquidated our assets and hired movers to strip our mansion bare, erasing every trace of my existence. I walked out forever, but not before leaving two gifts on the empty mattress where we once slept: the signed divorce papers, and the melted, grotesque slug of gold that used to be my wedding ring.”