Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Ruthless Mafia Boss

ella

my reality. I sat in the back of the Russo family's stretch limousine, my hands resting on the ch

olished walnut table. Next to it sat a one-way tic

yx bracelet on her wrist clinked against the wood. "A blood oath of exile. You renounce the Russo name, you main

ond on her left hand. "Gavin says hello, by the way," she smirked, her voice dripping with venom. "He pic

oked at Victoria's perfectly manicured hands, noting the slight tremor she couldn't control. She wasn't here out of power; she

combat boots planting fi

, my voice as cold and sharp as a surgical scalpel. I locked eyes with my stepmother. "

r mouth to scream, but the sound was instantly

as violently shoved across the asphalt, the tires shrieking in protest. Victoria's crystal champagne f

absorbing the shock. Through the sudden spiderweb cracks of the bulletproof window, I saw t

it us

had clearly never seen real combat-was hyperventilating. He screamed uselessly i

ning. The precision, the sheer power of the assault-this was a coordinated, military-grade extraction.

s of this weeping driver, we were