Chapter 1

When my husband, Angelo, slept with my best friend for the ninety-ninth time, the last thread of my sanity snapped.

And that woman was Bianca, my best friend. We'd been inseparable since kindergarten.

When I discovered the accident that caused my miscarriage was a murder they orchestrated, and that they were now conspiring to seize the territory my father had left me, I made a call to a number that had long been gathering dust.

"I'll agree to any arranged marriage. My only condition is that you find me the most ruthless cleaner in the city."

"I want my husband to wish he were dead."

Just then, Angelo pushed open the study door. The undeniable, filthy proof of his affairs was spread across the desk. He didn't even bat an eye.

He simply tugged at his tie, smirking at my breakdown as if I were a minor inconvenience he had to deal with.

"I'm getting an annulment," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage.

"Pack your things and get the hell out of my house. You were just a street thug collecting protection money. I was the one who got you Made. Now, I'm taking back everything that's mine."

"You're not going anywhere," he took a step closer. "You may be a Romano by blood, but you're my wife. If you dare embarrass me, I'll make you regret it."

"Remember, you're mine."

He closed the distance in long strides, his fingers digging into my arm like iron pincers as he slammed me against the corner of the desk.

I struggled and screamed, but he pinned my wrists without an ounce of mercy. His weight crushed down on me, squeezing the air from my lungs.

I fought with all my strength, but he forced himself on me anyway. By the time I called the Family enforcers to report the assault, the men on the other end just laughed.

"Mrs. Bruno, go back to sleep. Stop making a scene."

"What do you mean?" I stared at the phone in disbelief. "I'm reporting a crime. He forced himself on me."

"You're his wife," the enforcer flicked ash from his cigarette, his tone condescending, as if speaking to a lunatic.

"How can a man force himself on his own wife? That's what marriage is, sweetheart. We don't get involved in a couple's bedroom business."

"This isn't bedroom business. He hit me." I slammed my hand on the desk. "He hurt me."

About twenty minutes later, Angelo walked in with Dr. Rossi, the Family's private physician.

"She's been so stressed lately, she's losing her mind," Angelo said, spreading his hands as he played the part of the helpless, exhausted husband. "She's having severe hallucinations. Mania, paranoia. She thinks the entire Family is out to get her."

"I'm perfectly sane!" I screamed as two massive bodyguards seized me. "He's lying! Look at the bruises on me!"

"She did it to herself," Angelo said, his face a mask of profound grief. "She'll do anything for attention."

"Send her to the Family's remote facility up north," Dr. Rossi wrote, signing the order. "Involuntary psychiatric hold, seventy-two hours. It's for her own good."

I screamed until my throat was raw, but the room was filled with his men. They dragged me out into the darkness just like they would a traitor.

I was locked in that windowless, claustrophobic ward for five days. It ended when Angelo finally came for me, his smile a sickeningly sweet mask.

He brought me back to the estate my father left me. He tucked me into bed and told me to "get some rest."

It wasn't until that night, when I went downstairs for a glass of water, that I heard them.

"God, that was a close call. If she'd actually taken this to the Family elders before the banquet, we'd be dead," Bianca's voice trembled with fear.

"She won't get the chance," Angelo replied coldly. "I've already sorted out the territory transfer documents. We just need to trigger her one last time in front of everyone."

"On the night of her birthday?"

"Exactly," Angelo said. "Thursday is her thirtieth birthday. We're throwing a huge masquerade ball. I got my hands on the strongest hallucinogen on the market. I'll slip it into her drink."

"We'll wait for her to lose control, to have a complete breakdown in front of everyone."

"I promise you, she will," Angelo said, his tone brimming with confidence. "When that happens, we'll have the entire Family as witnesses. The elders will immediately strip her of her inheritance rights on grounds of insanity."

I covered my mouth, my body turning ice cold.

"And her casinos and shipping routes?" Bianca asked greedily.

"They'll all be mine," Angelo answered. "Yes, her father left them to her. Yes, she fought for that territory through hails of bullets. But according to Family rules, once a wife goes mad, all power and wealth pass to her husband."

"I'll get all the businesses. I'll have more money than I can spend. And I'll lock her in that asylum for the rest of her life."

"You're a genius, darling," Bianca let out a sickeningly sweet moan.

"I never loved her," Angelo's voice was full of disgust. "She was just a useful last name. A stepping stone. You have no idea how annoying she is."

I slumped to the cold marble floor, the chill piercing me to the bone.

All those years begging the Family elders to support him, all my sacrifices in the gang wars, my unreserved love for the past ten years... it was all a joke.

He'd been planning this from the beginning. He wanted to take everything my father left me, and then lock me in an asylum to die.

I didn't cry. My tears had dried up during those five days in the asylum. Or maybe the weak woman I used to be was already dead. In her place was a clarity so cold it settled into my marrow.

I crawled back into bed and opened the hidden compartment underneath. Inside lay a stack of cash and a burner phone Angelo knew nothing about. Thank God he was too stupid to have ever found it.

I gripped the phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in seven years.

"Speak." The voice on the other end was female, cold, and carried an undeniable weight.

"Aunt," I said softly.

The line went silent.

My aunt, Zia, the true matriarch of the Colombo family, the woman who struck my name from the family tree the day I married a street thug like Angelo.

She'd taken one look at Angelo back then and called him an untamable, venomous snake.

"Siena," she finally said, her tone unreadable. "Did the sun rise in the west? Finally tired of playing house with that piece of trash?"

"You were right," I said, my jaw tight. "It's all happening. He's plotting to ruin me, Aunt. He wants to take my territory, brand me a lunatic, and have me locked in an asylum."

"What do you want?"

"I'll accept any marriage you arrange. I'll sign whatever contract you hand me without changing a word." I paused.

"My only condition is that you find me the most ruthless cleaner in this city, and help me destroy my husband."