Semua Bab No Roses for the Mafia Wife: Bab 1 - Bab 9

9 Bab

Chapter 1

The call was simple."I’m not getting married."My mother’s voice on the other end held no surprise, only a weary understanding that tasted of Sicilian lemons and old regrets. "Come home, Joanna. The family needs you. And you deserve better than a Rossi’s leftovers."I ended the call and stared at the diamond on my finger — Alexander’s engagement promise, a glittering lie. In three weeks, I would vanish. But first, I had to endure the pantomime one last time.Tonight was the engagement gala at The Velvet Room. A display for the Five Families: the Moretti name restored to respect through my marriage to the Rossi heir. My victory lap. My final performance.I should have known the script would change.Isabella Conti walked in.My half-sister. The living reminder of the woman who destroyed my mother, draped in white silk and a smirk.When my champagne flute slipped, staining her pristine Louboutins, instinct made me reach for Alexander. He pushed me away."Control yourself, Joanna," he sna

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Chapter 2

"Time moved differently after that night. It didn’t flow; it pooled around me, thick with silence and surveillance footage."I should have left. Taken the first flight to Sicily and never looked back.But pride is a poison. And I’d been swallowing it for years.The wedding was in two weeks. Every detail — from the Sicilian florist to the security detail — I’d arranged myself. I wouldn’t let Isabella steal that too.So I stayed. And I watched.The security feed became my nightly ritual. Isabella lounging in my living room, Alexander cooking for her, laughing at jokes I never understood.Once, she kicked him playfully."You’re really marrying Joanna?" she asked, swirling wine in a Baccarat glass I’d chosen.Alexander caught her foot, massaging it with devotion. "You know why.""To punish me." She smiled, triumphant. "This whole house is decorated for me. The ring is my taste. Even your poor fiancée is just... me, but weaker."He didn’t deny it.When he leaned in to kiss her, I hurled my

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Chapter 3

Alexander didn’t come back that night. Or the next.I used the silence to dismantle my life.First, Rossi Holdings—the "legitimate" front where I’d worked as Alexander’s financial liaison for five years. My resignation letter was two lines:"Effective immediately. Personal reasons."No explanation. They didn’t deserve one.My assistant, Sofia, showed me his encrypted feed. There was Alexander, smiling beside Isabella in Napa vineyards, the California sun gilding them both."Happiness tastes better shared", he’d captioned it.He’d blocked me from seeing it. Of course he had.I met friends in safehouse cafés. They already knew."We recognized her Conti ring in the photo," Lena whispered. "The emerald one her father gave her when she turned eighteen. He’s not even hiding it well.""He doesn’t think I’m worth hiding it from," I said flatly."What will you do?" Gabriella asked.I stirred my coffee. "I’m leaving. But I need favors."I outlined the plan quietly. By the time I left, each had a

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Chapter 4

The night before the wedding, Alexander finally returned.He carried a garment bag. "Jo, Bella offered to help choose your dress. She has excellent taste."Isabella emerged, holding another bag. Her smile was pure venom. "I’m your maid of honor, sis. Everyone will see how well the Conti and Moretti girls clean up."Alexander beamed at her—a look of pure adoration I’d only seen directed at me in my most delusional moments.My hands were steady as I unzipped the bag.The dress inside was a mockery. Yellowed satin, cheap lace, with a long tear across the bodice. It smelled of mothballs and spite.Isabella’s dress, however, was a masterpiece of ivory lace, beaded with pearls—more bridal than anything I’d ever owned."It’s beautiful," she sighed, spinning. "If only I had a tiara."Alexander turned to me. "You have your mother’s heirloom tiara, don’t you? The one with the sapphires. You wouldn’t mind if Bella borrowed it?"He stopped when he saw the ruined dress."What happened?"Isabella’s

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Chapter 5

New York after midnight belongs to those who live in the cracks.I took a cab to a warehouse marked with faded Conti tags. A man named Silvio met me inside. Formerly made with the Conti family, now independent. His network was called "The Whisper.""Joanna Moretti," he said. "Heard about your situation. Rossi’s change of heart.""Then you know what I’m holding."I placed the encrypted drive between us.He didn’t touch it. "Rossi heir messing with a Conti woman? Good gossip. Not explosive.""It’s more than that."I entered the passcode. The footage played—Alexander’s confession, the kiss, Isabella’s mocking commentary.Silvio’s eyebrow lifted. "Okay. That’s family-meeting material. Choosing a Conti over a Moretti—that’s not just cheating. That’s betrayal.""I want it broadcast," I said flatly. "Tomorrow. Noon sharp—when the ceremony’s supposed to start."He whistled. "Dangerous. The Rossis will come for me.""They’ll come for me first. By the time they look your way, I’ll be gone.""Why

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Chapter 6

The flight to Palermo took off at noon, just as the first alerts hit the encrypted networks.I slept—deeply, dreamlessly—for the first time in months. I didn’t hear my phone vibrate, then die. I didn’t see the storm breaking three thousand miles away.Back at Harborview Mansion, Alexander Rossi sat on the terrace overlooking the dead garden.He’d been there for five hours. A pyramid of cigarette butts grew in the crystal ashtray—the one I’d bought because it caught the light like ice.No one came to take them away. No one replaced them with the lemon drops I used to press into his palm. "Better for your lungs," I’d say, smiling like it was a joke.It wasn’t.His mother called for the third time. Eleanor Rossi’s voice was wire-thin with fury."Where is she, Alexander? The families are laughing at us. The ‘Contis’ are laughing!""She’s not—""She’s a Moretti. Her mother abandoned her father. That blood is weak. Unstable.""Don’t," he said, the word cracking. "Don’t talk about her like th

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Chapter 7

Alexander Rossi didn’t chase women. Women chased him.Once, I’d spiked a fever so high I hallucinated. I crawled to his study, begging him to take me to the hospital.He glanced up from a weapons shipment manifest, dialed a private doctor, and returned to his numbers.Never touched me. Never asked if I was okay.Now here he was—across an ocean, his empire crumbling—because I’d left."Come home," he said, voice rough."I am home."The words were calm. Final.He flinched. I saw it—the moment he realized what "home" meant without me. Not a place. A person. And that person was gone."Joanna." He stepped closer, the arrogance melting into something raw. "I’m sorry. The wedding, Isabella… I was distracted. But I love you. I never meant to hurt you."He sounded surprised by his own apology. As if the words were foreign on his tongue.I almost laughed. "You don’t love me, Alexander. You married me because a Rossi needs a respectable wife. A Moretti connection strengthened your position. Now it

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Chapter 8

Alexander began to send gifts.Every day, a courier arrived: blood-red roses, diamond earrings, a vintage Rolex I’d once admired.Every day, I handed them to our housekeeper. "For the staff. Or the trash."My mother watched from the balcony, sipping espresso. "Men. They think jewelry fixes betrayal.""He’s not trying to fix anything," I said. "He’s trying to buy back his comfort."I’d never cared about money. I’d wanted loyalty. Fidelity. A love that didn’t have a price tag."Enough moping," Maria announced. "You’re starting at Moretti Imports tomorrow. Managing director."I’d graduated top of my class at Wharton. Then I’d taken a "soft" job at Rossi Holdings—a pretty face to legitimize their books. I’d made myself small for Alexander.No more."Yes," I said. "I’m ready."The office was a sleek glass tower overlooking Palermo’s harbor. The employees—mostly Sicilians who’d known me as a child—welcomed me with cautious warmth.Within weeks, that caution turned to respect. I renegotiated

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Chapter 9

The shove was vicious. I stumbled forward, directly into the path of a speeding Fiat.Brakes screamed.A body collided with mine—hard, familiar—yanking me backward. We crashed into a metal fire hydrant. The impact knocked the air from my lungs.Alexander.He’d taken the full force against his spine. I heard the grunt of pain.Before I could speak, he was moving. He grabbed Isabella by the throat, slamming her against a stone wall."You touch her again," he snarled, "and I’ll bury you in the foundations of a Conti-owned building."Isabella gasped, clawing at his hands. "Alexander—she pushed me first—""Liar." He backhanded her. The crack echoed in the sudden quiet. "dug up your past. Every boy Joanna ever smiled at. Every man who looked her way. You slept with them all. Not because you wanted them. Because you wanted ‘her’ to lose."Isabella’s eyes widened in genuine terror. The game was up."I loved you!" she cried."You loved hurting her." He released her, disgust twisting his feature

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