The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Vendetta

ella

and the expensive Egyptian cotton duvet, the room felt like a tomb. The soundproofed walls swallowed the silen

he nightstand glowed a

nst my skin. According to the archaic traditions of our world, producing an heir

raised a single finger. A minute gesture, but c

ok at me, his gaze fixed on the dark ceiling. "I need a clear head for the negotiat

ts at my sides. "You said the same thing last month, Vincenz

your place, Isabella," he sneered, the cruelty in his tone slicing through me. "You are a *Collateral Bride*. A pretty asset acquire

rable wall between us. I stood there, stripped of my dig

lay awake, the humiliation burning in my chest. That was when I saw it-the faint, pulsing blu

t kill me; he would make one phone call and cut the life support keeping my mother, Hazle

ared at me. I tried his birthday. Incorrect. The Moretti family founding date. Incorrect. My fingers

een unl

opened a hidden folde

socialite I knew only from the periphery of our world. In one photo, taken on the deck of the family yacht, *Stellamaris*, Vincenzo had his head thrown back in a genui

ext photo that s

late stain ruining his pristine white shirt. In his arms, he held a little girl

and geotag. *Yesterday

in Sicily. While I was locked in this estate, terrified and isolated, he

aporated, instantly freezing

old, burner phone I had managed to hide from his guards. I quickly snapped photos o

y wipe the glass clean of my fingerprints. I placed the tablet back

broken me. He thought I was just a submissive pawn. But as I listened to him breathe, the seed of a *Vendetta* to