Chapter 2

To make sure I was completely trapped, Christian rose from his seat and swept his gaze slowly across the room.

"Tonight, anyone who dares to step up and settle Iliana's tab makes themselves my enemy—and an enemy of the entire Messina family."

In Manhattan's underworld, everyone knows Christian controls half the district's smuggling and casino operations. Nobody dares to cross a Don with that much firepower.

A few table bosses and suppliers nearby—the ones who'd quietly profited from mining deals I'd greenlit—had started to rise, half-ready to bail me out. But the second they caught the bloody edge in Christian's threat, their faces went pale and they sank right back into their seats, terrified that even a second's hesitation would put them in Christian's crosshairs.

"You see that? Don Messina is dead serious this time."

"All this over a little assistant? He's really going for the jugular against his own Donna."

"Wife, schmife. These rich bastards treat marriage like grabbing a box of instant pasta off the shelf. Wife steps out of line? Same as throwing it in the trash."

"With Christian putting a target on her back, who in this city would dare help Iliana now?"

The rage in my chest detonated. I stormed up to him, voice shaking.

"Christian—you're really going to put me on the chopping block in front of every mob big shot in the city, all for Giselle?!"

Christian's eyes went dead cold. Without a flicker of warning, his hand shot out and cracked across my face.

SLAP!

The sound rang through the dead-silent club like a gunshot.

The force sent my head snapping sideways. I tasted blood on my lip.

"So what if I am?"

He looked down at me from his full height, his voice flat and hollow.

I pressed my hand to my burning cheek, staring back at him in disbelief.

We'd been married three years. To the outside world, we were the picture-perfect "Don and Donna."

He was the one who'd chased me the moment I set foot in Manhattan. In that old stone church, gripping a gold crucifix, he'd sworn in front of the whole family—loyalty until the end of time, his gun and his life mine to command.

And now? Three years, and he'd torn every sweet memory to shreds with his own hands.

That's the unspoken rule of this life. A woman who marries into the family with nothing behind her? She has no dignity to speak of.

The moment the man finds something younger, prettier, more eager to please—her cushy little life is over.

But Christian had no idea. I'd stripped off every shred of my own power to marry into the Messina family, not for his turf or his black card. I did it because I actually loved him.

I stared at him, eyes burning red. Christian took his time pulling the pocket square from his shirt, dabbing at the hand that had just hit me like I was something filthy.

"Iliana, three years seems to have made you forget exactly where you came from."

He smirked, tossing the damp cloth at my feet.

"And you seem to have forgotten that a Donna's most basic training is learning to shut up and take it."

He turned to the club manager standing at attention nearby, his tone light and lazy.

"Let me ask you—by your club's rules, what happens when a guest can't settle a bill this size?"

The manager swallowed hard and bowed his head.

"Mr. Messina, per our protocol... a guest who can't pay is stripped of all clothing and put up for public auction. The highest bidder gets... well, to collect the debt in kind."

Christian's lips curled with satisfaction. His eyes slid over me, amused.

"Perfect. Let's do that."

The room exploded in cheers.

This crew of bloodthirsty mobsters lived for this kind of spectacle—the old-school punishment.

"Man, Don Messina doesn't mess around—auctioning off his own Donna like a piece of collateral!"

"After tonight, Iliana's not a Donna anymore. She's just some used-up trash they're passing around."

And in the corner, a cluster of fat old gang bosses and business partners were eyeing me with naked greed, their grins slimy and lecherous.

"Heh heh, I've been dying to see what's under that couture gown. Hahahaha!"

I looked at the hungry eyes circling me, and my blood ran ice-cold. Fury and humiliation crashed over me like a wave.

Before we left the house, Christian had personally taken every single one of my private debit cards. "I'm covering everything tonight," he'd said.

Now, aside from this ridiculously expensive dress on my back, I had nothing. No way to pay.

I reached into my clutch for my phone—dead. Completely drained. Not a single bar of battery left.

That's when it hit me. Every last piece of this—Christian had planned it all. Step by step, link by link, a cage built just for me.