Chapter 1

Nerissa’s POV

My husband came home drunk and let it slip—his mistress, Bella, was pregnant. Then I discovered he’d been stealing from our joint account, sending her money every month like she was the real wife. I’m the daughter of the most feared mafia Don in the South. I don’t tolerate betrayal. So I called my father and said only one thing: “I want him gone. And I want him miserable.”

Papa exhaled on the other end of the line. “You say the word, Nerissa, and I’ll make him pay for what he did to you. I’ll make him kneel at your feet and beg for mercy. He’ll wish he were dead.”

After I hung up, I sat down on the sofa, staring at nothing.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel it—anger, yes, but also something heavier. Maybe sadness or even disbelief.

Five years of marriage don’t just vanish in a single second. For a moment, I thought about waking Eric up, dragging him out of bed and forcing him to look me in the eye and explain.

But I was raised by my father—a man who just happens to be one of the most powerful mafia Dons in the South. He taught me not to confront when I can calculate, not to argue when I can end things cleanly. Confronting Eric would only give him room to lie—and give me room to hesitate.

My gaze drifted to the wedding photo in the living room. He was smiling. I was smiling.

Marrying Eric had never been part of my plan. We came from different worlds. But I believed in what we had, I believed in him. So I fought for us, I fought to build this small family together with his.

When he said he dreamed of owning his own casino, I made it happen. I pulled resources from my father’s side, quietly. I arranged funding through channels he never traced back to me. I let him believe he built everything with his own hands. I let him believe I was just his lucky charm.

Later, when I said I wanted kids but Eric said he didn’t want children yet, I yield. I thought maybe Eric just wanted more time. The casino was new. There was pressure. I had my responsibilities too.

But tonight, hearing him promise to take care of his mistress and their baby, something inside me settled into clarity.

Eric didn’t refuse to have a child—he just preferred to have one with someone else. And I was never his lucky charm. I was simply the wife who fit his life at the time. Now, I don’t even fit that.

I picked up his phone again and scrolled more carefully this time.

Eric hadn’t even tried to hide Bella. Their photos were everywhere—vacations they took while he told me he was meeting clients, candlelit dinners on nights he canceled plans with me at the last minute. And then there was the ultrasound and doctor appointments and baby clothes.

The latest image stopped me. Bella wrapped around Eric’s arm on the balcony of a waterfront penthouse.

I recognized that balcony immediately. The property was registered under one of the casino’s shell companies—which meant it was mine.

Bella wore a silk dress that hugged the curve of her stomach. Eric’s hand rested at her waist, possessive and gentle, his eyes warm in a way I had never seen directed at me.

I scrolled.

More photos surfaced.

Two months ago: “The doctor said I’m the healthiest pregnant woman she’s ever seen. Thank you for taking care of me and our baby.”

Eric replied: “You’re the one doing the hard work. I’m sending you a gift tonight.”

Later, Bella sent a picture back. A diamond necklace shimmered at her throat—the same one I once told him I loved. He’d promised to buy it for me someday. That day never came. The casino was new, he said, we needed to wait.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. I just thought Eric genuinely wanted to give it to me himself.

Six months ago: “Two lines, Eric. What should we do?”

His reply came instantly. “I’m coming to you now."

Later that night, there was another photo—their fingers intertwined over Bella’s stomach.

The watch on Eric’s wrist nearly burned my eyes. The platinum piece I gave him the day I announced our engagement—the day he was granted entry into the Ardent family as my husband.

He just never understood what that truly meant.

Each image cut deeper than the last. Tears slipped down my face before I even noticed.

I didn’t even feel like I was crying. It was as if something inside me had gone silent and numb, and everything felt like déjà vu—like I was watching someone else’s life unravel instead of my own.

I walked back into the bedroom. Eric was still asleep, a faint smile on his lips—perhaps dreaming of Bella and their child.

I stood there and studied his face for a long time.

Eric looked no different from the day I first met him.

I defended this man in front of my father. I insisted that he was my other half when members of the Ardent family doubted him.

I never questioned his access to everything I owned and everything I brought with me to this little family. Never made him feel small, even when he was just a businessman and I was a mafia Don’s daughter.

I brought him into my world. I taught him how to sit across from Dons without flinching. I handed him a casino so he would never feel lesser standing beside me.

And this was how he chose to repay me.

Eric, did you really think you could siphon money from the Ardent, lie to my face, raise another child in secret—and walk away untouched?

I am Nerissa Ardent.

In the South, my surname opens doors and closes graves.

I reached out and gently wiped away the last of my tears.

Eric… I am not the kind of woman you betray and still expect to survive.

…

I walked back into the study and made a few calls. Minutes later, Bella’s file landed in my inbox.

Bella Evers. Twenty-three. College dropout. Currently a table girl at Golden Casino. Parents: ordinary, paycheck to paycheck.

She hadn’t been good at her job—several warnings on record. But about a year ago, the complaints stopped with fewer shifts and higher pay.

So that’s when it began.

I kept reading.

Bella had left college after getting involved with a married man. When he went bankrupt after his divorce, she left him just as quickly. And somehow, she found her way to my husband.

A pattern.

Bella Evers didn’t just stumble into married men. She targeted them.

And Eric—my husband, who couldn’t even keep himself in his own vows—walked right into her arms.

An ungrateful cheater and a professional home-wrecker.

What a perfect match.