The Ultimate Revenge: My Husband, My Sister, and Their Ruin

As the eldest daughter of the Romano family--Novaria's most feared mafia clan--everyone thought I was the luckiest woman alive during the five years I was married to Matteo Graves.

Until I clicked on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my whole world collapsed.

The woman being slammed against the wall was Valentina Harper--Matteo's adopted sister, the girl who had grown up with us.

And the hand gripping her waist wore the wedding ring I had placed on Matteo's finger myself.

"Holy shit, Matteo... you're so rough. If your wife knew your dick was inside me right now, she'd lose her mind, wouldn't she?"

"Valentina, don't mention that boring woman."

In the video, my usually refined husband, Matteo, was panting, his voice dripping with lust. "Squeeze tighter, fuck... You drive me crazy, baby. Once I get all her family shares, you'll be the lady of this mansion."

Those familiar sweet words, now tangled with moans, completely destroyed me.

Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on lies?

This cheating pair thought they had already won.

Since this rising mafia star loves to put on a show, I think it's time I put on a performance of my own.

I'm going to make everyone see the true face of this "perfect husband"...

I slammed the laptop shut. In the last second before the screen went dark, I saw Matteo buried in Valentina's neck, taking what he wanted.

I felt my blood run cold, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary.

For this night, I had turned down a territory handover involving three of our family blocks and personally cooked an entire feast.

I even wore the black lace lingerie Matteo loved most--the sheer fabric hugging every curve of my body.

Half an hour ago, I was still fantasizing about tonight's intimacy.

But now, the nausea churning in my stomach threatened to drown me.

Just then, I heard the fingerprint lock at the front door.

Matteo was home.

He wore a custom Armani suit, his tie slightly loose, with a faint trace of Chanel No. 5 clinging to him.

Valentina's favorite scent. She said it covered up the shabby, stale smell from the orphanage.

I let out a cold laugh.

"Sorry, baby, there was an emergency at the West Side docks. I came back late."

He smoothly slipped off his jacket and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

His chest was broad and warm--once the place where I had felt safest.

He lowered his head to kiss my neck, his tongue lightly tracing my collarbone, his voice deep. "Smells so good... looks like tonight... I'll have to make it up to you properly."

Before, I would have felt sorry for how hard he worked and turned to kiss him.

But now, I just felt disgusted.

"Don't touch me." I instinctively struggled, my voice stiff.

"What? Are you mad?" Matteo chuckled softly, his sculpted, devastatingly handsome face moving closer.

His narrow eyes held a teasing glint as his large hand slipped directly under my lace nightgown, his rough palm pressing against my inner thigh, kneading upward with practiced ease.

"Matteo! I said don't touch me!" I tried to push him away, but his strength--honed through mafia fights--was overwhelming.

He pinned me against the dining table, his rough fingers aggressively rubbing my sensitive spot as he said in a hoarse voice, "Your mouth says no, but your body's honest. Baby, you're getting wet down here. Want to taste it yourself? How about it?"

"Let me go..." I bit my lip hard, my eyes reddening.

Shamefully, my body's instincts betrayed my reason--under his touch, I actually responded.

As the sensation built, my eyes grew hazy.

Just as Matteo's gaze darkened and he unbuckled his belt, ready to take me right there on the table--

The phone on the couch rang urgently.

Matteo frowned, about to hang up, but then his eyes caught the name on the screen: V.

Valentina.

His movements froze, panic flashing in his eyes.

"Damn it." He immediately pulled away from me, straightening his suit pants as he strode to the balcony to answer.

A few minutes later, he returned, the lust on his face completely gone, replaced by a cold, businesslike look.

"Elena, there's a mole at the West Side casino. I have to deal with it right now. Don't wait up for me tonight, okay?"

He planted a perfunctory kiss on my forehead and hurried out.

But I knew the truth--he was going to see Valentina.

I collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, shame and rage twisting together inside me.

My phone rang.

It was Enzo, my private lawyer.

"Ms. Romano, the agreement you asked me to prepare--transferring 30% of your family shares to Mr. Graves--is all ready. It can take effect anytime. Do you need me to confirm with you again?"

My knuckles turned white gripping the phone, my eyes instantly sharp as knives.

"Stop all transfer procedures. Immediately. Right now."