A CEO Lost Everything After Betraying His Mafia Wife

By the time Julian pushed open my office door, I had already closed every file on my screen.

The resignation sat in my drafts folder, unsent but complete, waiting for the right moment.

I sat back in my chair and watched him walk in.

Three years ago, that stride used to make my heart skip. The way he moved—confident, purposeful, like he owned every room he entered—used to take my breath away.

Now it just made my stomach tighten.

His eyes landed on my face. He paused. He seemed to choose his words carefully before speaking.

"You've been quiet. Still upset about what happened earlier?" he asked. "Zoe didn't mean it. It was an accident. Why do you have to hold it against her?"

This man used to care about nothing but work. Deadlines, deals, quarterly reports—those were his priorities.

He never noticed little things like this. He never came to my office just to check on my feelings. I'd convinced myself that was just who he was. That he was built differently, wired for ambition instead of affection.

But now, for Zoe, he had walked all the way here to make excuses. To smooth things over. To make sure she didn't feel uncomfortable. To protect her peace.

I looked at him and curved my lips. It was probably a bitter smile. A self-mocking one.

"If it was an accident," I said, "then put me back in the group right now."

Julian frowned. The lines between his brows deepened.

"If I add you back, it'll embarrass her," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "Don't be so petty."

I froze.

My heart squeezed tight in my chest—a dull, suffocating ache. Every single word he said was for Zoe's sake. Not mine.

I looked at his face. The sharp jaw I used to kiss. The eyes that once looked at me like I was everything. Now they looked at me like I was a problem.

"Petty," I repeated, letting the word hang in the air. "That's what you think I am."

He frowned. "That's not what I meant."

"Yes, it is." I stood up from my chair, my hands flat on the desk. I spoke quietly. "Fine. I'll go overseas next week. And I won't be joining the shareholder group again."

Julian studied me. He seemed surprised. I had given in too easily. He wasn't used to that.

After a pause, he said, “Good. I'm glad you understand. You've worked hard on this deal. When you come back, we'll go public. I still owe you a wedding.”

My fingers tightened around the papers in my hand. The edges dug into my palm.

Three years of marriage. He never once showed any affection toward me at work.

Apart from a few people at the very top, no one even knew we were legally husband and wife.

I hid in the shadows for him. I celebrated his wins alone. I swallowed my pride every single day.

Now the wedding—our first public acknowledgment—was being offered as a form of compensation.

I smiled at the irony, but said nothing. What was there to say?

Julian opened his mouth to say something else.

At that moment, the door burst open.

Zoe rushed in, flustered and wide-eyed, looking back and forth between us. Her face was pale. Her lower lip trembled. She managed to squeeze out a few words in a tiny, breathless voice.

"Mr. Reed, Isabella… it was my mistake. I'm so sorry. Please don't fight because of me. I didn't mean to cause any trouble—"

I cut her off with a cold glance, my voice sharp as a blade.

"Since when do you interrupt when Julian and I are speaking?"