Chapter 1

“Sophia was here?”

I set Elena down.

She glanced at the pastry, then quickly moved back into my arms.

“You weren’t here. I get scared alone in a place this big. Sophia had some free time, so she stayed with me last night.”

She said it so easily that I couldn’t catch even a trace of guilt.

For seven years, whenever she said she was afraid, I stationed bodyguards on every floor. When she refused to leave New York, I divided my business between two cities and made the six-hundred-mile round trip every week.

I’d always thought those sacrifices were what kept our marriage together.

“I’m hungry.” I pushed her away. “Go take a shower. I’ll make dinner.”

Elena’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Leon, you just got home and you’re already being cold to me. You didn’t even miss me, did you?”

Before today, her tears would have made me give in immediately.

But as she stood on her toes to kiss me, her robe slipped open at the collar, revealing several fading hickeys on her chest.

My hands froze around her waist.

She didn’t notice. She pressed closer, her voice sweet and playful. “Carry me to the bathroom.”

Out of habit, I picked her up and carried her to the bathroom door.

Seven years of habit didn’t disappear overnight. Even after seeing those marks, my body still remembered exactly how she liked to be held.

“Go wash up.”

She laughed and playfully pushed me, thinking I was teasing her.

Once I heard the shower running, her phone lit up on the counter.

The caller ID showed a single word: Daddy.

I had barely reached for the phone when the bathroom door flew open. Elena rushed out barefoot and snatched it from my hand.

“The foundation is expecting a donation. I didn’t want to miss the call.”

She quickly hung up and smiled at me.

“Go start cooking. I’ll be right down.”

The door locked behind her again.

I went to the study and opened her tablet. The passcode was still our wedding anniversary.

The pinned conversation was from “Daddy.”

“Leon’s back. Stop texting me.”

“What are you scared of? That’s not what you said in his bed.”

“That’s because he wasn’t home.”

“Even if he were, all he could do is watch.”

I stared at the messages, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.

They’d done it in our bed. Above the headboard hung our wedding photo, with her arm linked through mine as she promised to stand by me through honor and disgrace.

Another message came through. This time, it was a voice note.

I pressed play.

“Baby, tomorrow afternoon, meet me at the Ashton Hotel again. That husband of yours who only cares about business, he won’t be back in New York until at least the day after tomorrow.”

It was Marcello.

My own brother. My underboss. The man I trusted more than anyone.

After our father died, Marcello had supported me while I was wounded and helped me into the council chamber. In front of everyone, he’d sworn that he would always have my back.

When Elena and I got married, he stood behind me as my best man.

That night, after we’d both had too much to drink, I handed Marcello the spare key to our home and asked him to look after Elena if anything ever happened to me.

He took the key and clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s your wife first, the Vitale Family’s Donna second. I won’t let anyone take advantage of her.”

For seven years, I’d believed him without question.

Now he’d slept with my wife and made a joke of me in our own marriage bed.

I scrolled back to the beginning of their messages.

The affair had been going on for six months.

It started the day after I left for Miami to negotiate a new shipping route for the Family.

That night, Elena had called me, saying she couldn’t sleep alone and just wanted to hear my voice.

I left my meeting and stayed on the phone with her until dawn.

The moment we hung up, she went straight to Marcello’s room.

There was a gun in the desk drawer. I didn’t touch it.

Killing Marcello would have been easy. But death was too quick after six months of humiliating me.

I wanted them wide awake, watching everything they cared about most slip away, one piece at a time.

I saved every message and put the tablet back exactly where I’d found it.

By the time Elena came downstairs, I’d already pulled out her chair. Her favorite red wine and a medium-rare steak were waiting on the table.

She kissed me on the cheek. “Don, nobody spoils me like you do.”

Once, those words would have melted me.

Now all I could think about was her using that same tone when she called Marcello “Daddy.”

“Was the trip to Miami exhausting?” she asked. “Will you have to go again next month?”

She didn’t care if I was tired. She was asking how much time the next trip would leave for them.

“I’ll be going back.” I refilled her glass.

Elena lowered her head to sip her wine, but a pleased little smile still slipped through.

I used to live for that smile. I’d delayed deals, rearranged my schedule, and made the entire Family recognize her as more than a decoration on her husband’s arm.

Yet she’d turned that respect into the freedom to betray me.

I cut a piece of steak and placed it on her plate.

She hated cutting her own steak. I’d done it for her since our first year together.

Elena ate it without even looking at me. By now, my care was something she simply expected, just like the estate, the bodyguards, and the authority of the Donna.

She’d never imagined she could lose any of it.

“Eat up.” I pushed her plate closer. “I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.”