The Mafia Wife's Bill

The Mafia Wife's Bill

Coralie Sullivan · Completed · 6.1k Words

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Introduction

No one would believe that Lorenzo Moretti's wife—the mafia Don's wife—

had to kneel in his study and beg him to approve three hundred thousand dollars to save her brother's life.

All because he thought a woman from Brooklyn's slums needed constant reminding of her place.

Just last night, kidnappers sent photos of my brother's severed finger, and I got on my knees begging him to sign that goddamn form.

His trusted advisor Sofia stamped "REJECTED" in red ink, sneering: "Insufficient proof."

Lorenzo didn't know I endured this humiliation because I once loved him.

Now Sofia told me my brother was dead, dumped in the Hudson River.

I don't need to be his caged canary anymore.

Chapter 1

No one would believe that Lorenzo Moretti's wife, the mafia Don's wife, had to kneel in his study and beg him to approve three hundred thousand dollars to save her brother's life.

All because he thought a woman from Brooklyn's slums needed constant reminding of her place.

Just last night, kidnappers sent photos of my brother's severed finger, and I got on my knees begging him to sign that goddamn form.

His trusted advisor Sofia stamped "REJECTED" in red ink, sneering: "Insufficient proof."

Lorenzo didn't know I endured this humiliation because I once loved him.

Now Sofia told me my brother was dead, dumped in the Hudson River.

I don't need to be his caged canary anymore.

...

The downpour hammered against the bulletproof glass of the Moretti estate, echoing that desperate call from the abandoned Brooklyn warehouse.

I knelt in the study, my fingers crushing a wrinkled paper—Emergency Fund Application for Non-Core Family Members.

"Lorenzo, please sign it." My voice shook, not from the cold but from pure terror.

The man behind the mahogany desk was the Moretti family's godfather and my husband. He didn't bother looking up, just kept polishing that ivory-handled Browning, his favorite piece.

"Elena, you know how this works." His voice was low, bored. "Anything over fifty K goes through Sofia. Don't waste my time with this."

"Sofia rejected it." I pushed the form toward him, that brutal red stamp—REJECTED—searing into my vision. "Said there wasn't enough proof. Lorenzo, that's my brother! He's all I have left! The kidnappers gave me twenty-four hours. They said from now on, they'll cut off one of his body parts every three hours!"

Lorenzo finally paused. He lifted his eyes, those deep blues utterly indifferent.

"Then get her the proof she needs." He said it casually, as if we were discussing a receipt for cigars, not a human life. "If everyone ignored protocol like you want me to, how the hell would this family function? Elena, you've been my wife for three years. Why do you still act like some desperate nobody?"

Some desperate nobody.

So that's what it was to him, my frantic need to save my only family just proved I'd never belonged in his world.

The study door swung open. Sofia strode in wearing a fitted black suit, holding a file. She looked at me like I was a stray that had wandered into the wrong house.

"Boss, the Sicily shipment just cleared customs." She walked right past me, leaned down close to Lorenzo, and whispered something in his ear.

"Sofia," I grabbed the hem of her pants, my nails digging into the fabric. "What proof do you need? A video? Audio? I'll call them right now—"

Sofia yanked her leg back with disgust, staring down at me. "Elena, family protocol is clear, ransom for extended relatives is considered high-risk expenditure. Your brother's a gambling addict. How do I know this isn't some con job you two are running? Besides, you blew through your entire allowance last quarter on handbags, didn't you?"

"I didn't—"

"Enough." Lorenzo slammed the gun on the desk. The crack stopped my heart. "Get out. Go upstairs and think about what it means to be a godfather's wife."

I looked at this man I'd loved for three years. Handsome, powerful, controlling half the city's underworld, yet unwilling to bend his precious rules even once for the wife he claimed to cherish.

My phone vibrated. A picture message.

No words. Just an image, a severed finger floating in filthy water.

Something inside me shattered in that moment.

Not love, that had died the last time I ran a fever and needed to see a doctor but was told to file a Security Risk Assessment Form first.

I stood up, my bruised knees aching. I wiped my tears away and gave him the most perfect, hollow smile I'd worn in three years.

"Of course, Don. I'll go reflect now."

Lorenzo seemed pleased with my sudden obedience. He waved his hand dismissively. "Tomorrow night's charity gala, wear the sapphire necklace."

He had no idea I'd already pawned it.

Used the money to buy one final piece of intel from the black market about where they were holding my brother.

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