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Betrayed Bride, Mafia Princess Rises

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 698    |    Released on: 22/10/2025

ella

tured it in the dark. A man with a calm, authoritative voice had answered

feigned compliance. I was counting t

while Vincent was in Ca

y saviors who c

my ja

e had been a constant, cold pressure for a decade. Behind her stood two of the most loyal Falcone s

her voice dripping with false conce

said, my vo

s were chips of flint. "We've come to solve a problem." She h

and thrust them at me. "Sign th

N

ever dealt me. It was the blow that severed the final, frayed thread of affection I had for the people who raised me. They weren't here t

voice a low, venomous purr. "That the child you carry is

oison had do

lie," I

"You have become a liability. We are

st the wall. My adoptive father forced a pen into my

as I scrawled a broken signature, severing my

ulled a small, snub-nosed revolver from her purse. She d

she said. "To terminate this... c

from my throat. "No!

for them. The soldiers dragged me from the room, my feet scraping against the floor. I was blee

ted their eyes, and out into the bright sunlight. As they forced me to

h the haze

riveway, blocking the gates. Men in immaculate dark suits poured out, moving with the

out of the lead car. He was older, his hair silvered at the temples, but he moved with the coiled powe

he grounds. My name, a roar on his lip

abe

r had co

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Betrayed Bride, Mafia Princess Rises
Betrayed Bride, Mafia Princess Rises
“At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family-a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.”
1 Chapter 12 Chapter 23 Chapter 34 Chapter 45 Chapter 56 Chapter 67 Chapter 78 Chapter 8