The Mafia Boss Brought His Mistress Home to His Wife — Until He Saw the Photograph She Left Beside Her Wedding Ring

I didn't tell Dante about the twins after that night.

I watched him slip further into Bianca’s toxic, manipulative orbit. He was blinded by the massive wealth the merger promised, convincing himself that his marriage was already a dead end. He started spending nights at the downtown hotel. He stopped looking me in the eye.

I was preparing to file for divorce quietly, planning to leave the city and raise my babies entirely far away from the blood and violence of the mafia.

But two nights ago, the unthinkable happened.

I was walking down the elegant, sweeping staircase in the penthouse. I was exhausted, carrying a box of my personal files.

Bianca had arrived early for a "meeting." She saw me on the stairs. She didn't want me to leave quietly; she wanted me completely humiliated and broken.

"You're finally packing, you pathetic ghost?" Bianca had laughed cruelly from the bottom of the stairs.

I ignored her. But as I passed her on the landing, Bianca intentionally, maliciously shoved her high heel directly into my path.

I lost my balance. I fell hard, crashing against the marble stairs, the heavy box of files pinning me down. Pain, sharp and agonizing, exploded through my abdomen.

Bianca didn't help me. She simply smiled, stepped over my body, and walked into Dante’s study.

I dragged myself to the private hospital wing. The doctors worked for six agonizing hours to stop the bleeding.