All Chapters of Lies of the Mafia Husband: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

Dinner tasted like ash.Sophia flirted with him openly."Oh, my hand hurts from when she pushed me, feed me, Dario.""Oops, let me get that sauce off your lip." She licked her thumb, then looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Habit. Don't overthink it, Elena."Dario kept glancing at me. Seeing me silently cutting my meat, head down, his eyes darkened.After dinner, I tried to escape to the church, but my mother-in-law—that greedy old bat—dragged me to the master bedroom."Stop acting like a saint," she hissed, eyes gleaming with greed. "Go get pregnant. Tonight. We need a spare heir."I walked into the bedroom.Dario was sitting at the old desk, stiff as a corpse. The air was thick with tension.He looked up, his gaze like a loaded gun.In his hand was a folded piece of paper.My flight confirmation. And the divorce papers.My ears rang.He slammed the papers on the desk. Bang."What is this?"He laughed, a cold, sharp sound."No wonder you acted like a zombie today. I'm flirting wit

Before heading to the airport, I tossed the house keys to the "Cleaner" Dario had hired to scrub the place.The burly man caught the keys and handed me a thick envelope stuffed with non-sequential bills—untraceable cash. He patted my shoulder heavily, a look of underworld respect in his eyes."Safe travels, Elena. Show those old-school Sicilians what a Jersey girl is made of."That sentence was like a match struck in a cold, rainy night, quietly igniting the heart that Dario’s betrayal had frozen solid.I nodded firmly, a cold smirk touching my lips. "Don't worry. I won't let anyone look down on me."The airport was chaotic. I blended in with a few other "tourists"—likely people laying low or running from debt—and boarded the red-eye to Palermo.Through the porthole, the Manhattan skyline glittered in the twilight like a soul-eating monster.At this moment, was Dario back home looking for me? Or was he still holding Sophia's hand at that private clinic, comforting his fragile mistress?

The sea breeze in Sicily always carried the taste of salt, the waves rolling up gravel and smashing against the walls of the ancient castle perched on the cliff.When I pulled my trench coat tight and walked into this hidden estate on the outskirts of Palermo, the sky was still dark. The darkness before dawn was the thickest.Luca had heard I used to manage the books at the laundry and knew I was sensitive to numbers. He also knew I kept my mouth shut and paid attention to detail. So, he pulled some strings and introduced me to this secret hub that handled the Family’s European cash flow.I didn’t know the specifics of the complex accounts they were running. All I knew was that staring at the boards every day, recording data, and scrubbing the money trails was building up my own capital.It made my heart burn hot and my steps steady. I wasn’t sewing a wedding dress for some man anymore; every cent I earned was mine.A year passed like a gust of Mediterranean wind—gone in a flash.I lea

I didn’t hold back.My hand connected with his face—CRACK.The sound exploded in the empty hall, louder than a gunshot."The answer is no," I said, my voice steady."Dario, if you have even a shred of dignity left as a man, get out of my sight. Looking at you... it makes me feel dirty."He froze. His head was turned to the side, a bright red handprint already blooming on his cheek. His fingers twitched, but he didn't dare look me in the eye.Beside me, Luca laughed.It wasn't a mocking laugh. It was the sound of pure relief, like he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a dark, victorious smirk played on his lips—the kind a wolf gives after surviving a fight.He turned to his men, his tone light but authoritative."What are you standing around for? Get this trash out of here. Don't let him stain our Persian rugs."Two massive enforcers stepped up immediately. They grabbed Dario by the arms and dragged him backward.No one asked questions. No on