The Abused Wife Is A Mafia Heiress

afia Princess status, and her entire fortune

egnant mistress and declared her

and a miscarriage, my father blamed

dark room, commanding them to violate her ju

her jumped out of the second-floor windo

d body with utter disgust, claiming s

had framed her, and he didn't k

a helpless orphan, but the missing heir to

emanded I kneel to his mistress, a fleet of

ut, staring at the blood on the gr

six years," the Don said, his voice like ice.

pte

er's linen boxers, knowing that if the most feared Capo in the Syndicat

t the marble countertop-a low, insistent hum that told me

dow fell long before he crossed the threshold. Vincent Moretti radiated the kin

of his neck so she could adjust his starched

ile that never touched his eyes. "This is just a little game your

n where thi

alled Syndicate business. Under the pretense of checking his pocket watch, his body angled away from u

f the tall cheval-glass. The stillness she'd bee

tionist?" she asked, her voice a low tremo

ving them flat and cold as river stones. He shoved her by th

Family business," he snapped. "Enough

desperate? Sleeping with a woman w

with deliberate,

he distance between them, his frame

spat. "Not like Mia. She's nothing but

near her collarbone, hung suspended in the air

like inhaling air full of crushed glass. I had to part my

is face. He reached out and cove

ng at a spot on the wall just past her

tched my mother's posture collapse-as if t

y father's custom mafia cufflinks on the wooden bench, heard low, guttural sounds behind a closed door. When I pu

ts. He always invoked that memory to belittle her pain, to keep her leashed to his will. I'd heard her crying late at night, whi

ng down my mother's cheeks. The rigid lin

s phone, ready t

ve cry filtered through the speaker. Elena,

bed his luggage and walked out. The

he crouched down on the dark wood floor. She pulled me into h

into my hair, her voice fraying at the