Chapter 2

A second later, he recovered and snapped at me.

"No. That's not happening. You're my woman, and you always will be."

I frowned, about to say more.

But Damian's new underboss, Vincent Ricci, spoke first.

"Velia, you were seriously injured on that last operation. The doctors said you'll probably never be able to have children.

"Vera's only role is to give the Don an heir. It doesn't change what you and Damian have. You need to be reasonable."

His voice was laced with impatience.

As if I were the one in the wrong.

Standing there with his hands in his pockets, he looked nothing like the man who, just a year ago, had lost an entire shipment of firearms and begged me to save him.

You would never guess that after I recovered the shipment, he had sworn an oath before God.

"God, if I, Vincent, ever betray Ms. Marchetti in this life, let a thousand bullets tear through my chest."

Now he defended Damian and Vera as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He had known about them all along.

He had simply chosen to keep me in the dark.

I let out a cold laugh, wondering when God planned to send him those thousand bullets.

Vincent caught the look on my face. He froze for a split second, clearly remembering his vow.

An ugly look flashed across his face, and guilt crept into his voice.

"Vera is the Don's lawful wife now. Accept it, and the Don will love you all the same. I'm telling you this for your own good."

Beside him, the new consigliere, Kellen Dore, spoke in the same calm, unhurried tone.

"Exactly, Velia. Let Vera shoulder the duties of the Don's wife while you enjoy your sweet romance with the Don himself. What's so bad about that?"

A faint scar lingered at the corner of his eye.

Six months earlier, when riots broke out on the West Side, Damian's enemies had seized the chance to eliminate Kellen and cut off the Don's right arm.

Surrounded by hundreds of gunmen, it was my judgment and my tactics that carried him out of the encirclement.

A bullet shattered my shoulder.

Four of my ribs were broken.

The ligaments in both my hands were torn so badly that, even now, I still couldn't hold a pen.

Kellen had escaped with nothing more than a tiny scar beside his eye, left by a shard of flying glass.

At my hospital bed, he had sworn a solemn oath.

"Ms. Marchetti, from this day on, the Don's wife stands equal to the Don in my eyes. I pledge my loyalty and my life to her."

Back then, I'd only blushed and told him it was too soon to call me the Don's wife.

I never noticed the flicker of mockery in his eyes.

The Don's wife he had pledged himself to was never meant to be me.

I swallowed the agony of being betrayed by everyone, held onto my dignity and pride, and spoke calmly.

"I don't need your self-righteous idea of what's best for me. I'm not desperate enough to stoop to being Damian's other woman. I'll leave on my own."

Vincent and Kellen looked baffled.

In their eyes, being the Don's other woman was apparently the best fate I could hope for.

They couldn't understand why I wasn't grateful.

The corner of Damian's mouth lifted. His tone was casual, almost as if he were coaxing a stubborn child.

"Velia, stop throwing a tantrum. The moment you leave me, every Family in the city will put a price on your head.

"I know you're only reacting this way because you love me too much to share me with another woman. But you're smart. You'll get used to it."

Vincent jumped at the chance to prove himself right.

"Exactly, Velia. The Don still loves you. You're the one being greedy."

Kellen nodded in agreement.

I curled my lip in disgust.

"Believe whatever you want. I'm done playing your game."

I turned to leave.

Damian reached past me and braced one hand against the car door, blocking my way.

He sighed, "Velia, you're too naive. This stopped being a place you could come and go as you pleased a long time ago."

One look from him, and several of his men hurried over from across the grounds.

They marched me back into the estate and up to a room on the second floor, half by force.

Downstairs, the celebration of Damian and Vera's marriage carried on as though nothing had happened.

The moment the guards left, every trace of grief and fury vanished from my face.

I reached into the hidden compartment inside the wardrobe and took out the phone I'd hidden there.

Without hesitation, I made the call.

The call was answered almost immediately.

"My dear Velia, I knew I'd have the pleasure of hearing your lovely voice again."

His young voice was playful and sweet.

"Elias Soren," I said flatly. "I want to make a deal with you."

Anyone who overheard the call would have been stunned.

The Soren Family was a century-old dynasty every bit as powerful as Damian's.

Elias was the youngest Don in the Family's history.

A low chuckle came through the phone.

"The pleasure is all mine."

"Take me away from Damian," I said. "Protect me from him from this day forward, and I'll hand you half of the East Side arms trade."

The Soren Family had coveted the East Side arms business under my control for years.

But I'd always kept them at arm's length, unwilling to let them grow powerful enough to threaten Damian.

Under my tight control, they had never found an opening.

Elias burst out laughing.

"I don't know what that idiot Damian did to finally make you willing to work with me.

"But it doesn't matter. I'm grateful that he pushed you into my camp.

"My dear Velia, here's to a very profitable partnership."