Chapter 1

At our wedding, the guests couldn't stop whispering about my kidnapping.

Their murmurs echoed through the grand hall. 

"Twenty-four hours with a rival gang... she's damaged goods."

"Passed around by those animals, I bet."

"The great Mafia Princess is completely ruined."

Lewis's cold, dark eyes swept across the room. 

"Anyone who breathes another word about my wife," he declared, "makes a permanent enemy of the Ravelli family." 

The entire room went dead silent. 

Then, he turned to me. His gaze softened as he gently fastened the Ravelli family's heirloom diamond necklace around my neck. 

"Don't be afraid," he whispered, brushing a tear from my cheek. "I'm marrying you."

I thought I was marrying my true love, a man willing to protect me against the whole world.

I swore to myself right then that I would spend the rest of my life loving him, making up for the shame I brought to his name.

But it was all a beautiful lie. 

After the wedding, he spent every night at his mistress's place.

I always suffered the humiliation in silence. 

Until tonight. Hiding inside the walk-in closet, I heard his drunken voice bragging.

"That little show... you boys set it up perfectly, didn't you?"

A burst of knowing, nasty laughter echoed in the master bedroom outside.

"Man, the sound of the great Mafia Princess crying and begging... damn. Better than any music! Hahaha!"

My heart stopped.

Lewis let out a loud, drunken hiccup. His laugh was sharp and cruel.

"If I didn't completely ruin her reputation... if I didn't tear off that perfect 'good girl' mask of hers, how the hell could I justify kicking her to the curb?"

"The old Don's eyes right before he died... ugh, still staring a hole through me. If I didn't marry her, I wouldn't see a single cent of the Ravelli empire!"

Boom.

The blood froze in my veins. A sharp, high-pitched ringing filled my ears.

So that was it.

Those horrifying twenty-four hours.

Every single second of being dragged through hell.

The vicious rumors that destroyed me. The "damaged goods" label I still couldn't peel off...

To my "devoted" husband, all of it was just a carefully staged "show."

A sick play disguised as a rival gang's attack, orchestrated by Lewis himself, to clear his path!

And it was all for that woman.

The one currently curled up in Lewis's arms, happily enjoying the life of "Mrs. Ravelli"—Marnie Abbott.

My stomach churned violently.

Outside, another voice piped up, eager to please.

"Boss, did... uh, did Vanessa ever recognize that jacket? When you went to 'supervise' the setup that night, you were wearing..."

"Pfft," Lewis cut him off with a sneer. "Her? She was scared out of her mind. Begging for her life. You think she had the guts to look at my clothes?"

I looked down at the suit jacket in my trembling hands.

I had been about to iron it for him. It was the exact same jacket he wore on the night of the kidnapping.

Inside the left cuff, there was still a faded stain. My blood.

"Stupid bitch!" Lewis laughed. "Look at her now, playing the perfect little housewife. If I tell her to go east, she doesn't dare go west. She's more obedient than a dog!"

The room erupted in laughter again.

Every chuckle felt like a brutal slap across my face.

I thought of all the humiliation I had swallowed.

The cold, empty bed when Lewis stayed out all night. The late-night phone calls answered by his mistress!

The glaring tabloid photos the next morning, showing him and Marnie cuddling on the balcony of a luxury resort...

For countless nights, I had curled up under my blankets, punishing myself with the thought of "atoning" for my sins.

I owe him, I used to tell myself. I brought shame to the Ravelli family. I am... ruined.

But this heavy cross wasn't my fault.

Lewis had forged it with his own hands, and then he had pressed it onto my back with a cruel smile!

Lewis's drunken voice dripped with venom.

"Acting like some pure, untouched saint. She was locked up with a rival gang for twenty-four hours. God knows what they did to her! The fact that I still took her in is a damn miracle. She should be on her knees thanking me!"

Acting like a pure saint...

On her knees thanking me...

Every word was like a poison-tipped needle, driving straight into my shattered heart.

I looked at the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the closet.

My face was as pale as paper. My once gentle and forgiving eyes were now totally empty. Only a deadly, freezing silence remained.

Outside, the men started shouting about moving the party to a downtown club. "Let's go! The night is still young!"

I waited until the doors slammed shut. Only then did I stumble out of the closet, my legs trembling.

I gripped the blood-stained jacket tightly in my hands. Pulling out my phone, I dialed a number.

"Elias," I said, my voice completely cold. "I want to trigger the execution process for old Don Vittorio's trust clause."

I paused.

"And draw up the divorce papers for me."