All Chapters of I Will Make My Husband Beg for Death: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

When I stepped into the casino that bore my name, I walked past the crystal chandeliers and the whispers at the gambling tables, heading for the vault corridor on the top floor.But standing before the steel door branded with the Romano family crest was Bianca.Around her neck was the custom ruby necklace that belonged to my family, a symbol of our power. I remembered how, just months ago, she'd called me crying that she couldn't pay her rent and was about to be evicted. I had created a cushy "VIP Guest Director" position at the casino just for her, a fake job so she could collect a paycheck.And now, she was guarding my vault like a dog at the gate."You can't go in, Siena," she said, lifting her chin."Step aside, Bianca," I said, my voice cold. "I have a meeting with the financial steward and the Family elders in ten minutes to review the ledgers.""Angelo said you're on sick leave," she didn't budge. "He's in there handling business. You need to go home and rest. You're not thinki

I stared at the white ceiling of the hospital room. The sterile white slowly morphed into the blood-red canvas of my revenge.My palm rested on my flat stomach. It was an empty grave now. A tiny flame had flickered there, only to be snuffed out.The burner phone hidden in my pillowcase vibrated."It's done," Zia's voice said, sharp and efficient. No comfort, not a single wasted word."The annulment request has gone through the highest channels, directly to the Commissione's desk. The grounds are domestic abuse and embezzling Family funds. Angelo won't hear a word until the papers are served.""And my marriage?" I asked, my voice raspy."It's all arranged. The groom's family is waiting. Their Don needs a Donna before his birthday banquet next week to shut up the old fools on the High Table. And you need the sharpest blade available. This is a power trade, Siena. Nothing more than a business transaction.""I understand," I said. "Who is he?""One hour. South Dock, Pier Seven. A white pri

The plane climbed into the stratosphere, and the roar of the engines settled into a low hum.Massimo sat across from me, casually unbuttoning his cuffs to reveal an old scar on his forearm."Want to watch?" He pushed a tablet across the table. "I had pinhole cameras installed under the head table. 4K, Dolby sound.""When did you do that?""The morning you had him sign the confession." He smirked. "I didn't feel comfortable leaving you alone in that house, so I bugged it."I said nothing, swiping my finger across the screen. The video feed flared to life.The crystal chandeliers of the banquet hall spun into view. Red roses were piled up like a wall. Angelo stood at the head table, champagne in hand, that nauseating smile on his face.Bianca wore a Valentino gown I'd bought last month, clinging to his arm."Elders, guests," Angelo's voice came through the feed. "Tonight is my wife Siena's thirtieth birthday. Unfortunately..."He paused, letting a perfectly calculated layer of sorrow was

Inside a dingy rental apartment in the slums, Angelo lay on a filthy mattress, both his legs wrapped in blood-soaked casts.Bianca kicked aside an empty liquor bottle on the floor. "My head is about to explode.""My legs are broken," Angelo squeezed the words through his teeth."Your mother's ruby necklace," she suddenly spun around, her eyes lighting up. "It's in the casino's private vault. I remember the password: her mother's birthday. Two million dollars. That's enough for us to flee to Mexico.""Her people are running the casino.""She's honeymooning in Sicily tonight. The whole underworld is talking about the wedding." Bianca grabbed a torn jacket and threw it on. "She's sentimental. She won't change the password."She walked to the door."Wait for me."A dry, hollow laugh came from Angelo on the mattress."Once you leave, do not come back."At that exact moment, Aunt Zia's phone call rang through the castle at two in the morning."You have a rat in your casino. Bianca Costa. She

The banquet was held on the top floor of the Vitiello Family's Manhattan headquarters.I got ready an hour before the event.I wore a sleeveless black velvet gown. Around my neck hung a black diamond necklace, a matching set with my ring. My hair was entirely pinned up, leaving the back of my neck exposed.The revolver, loaded with six rounds, was strapped to my thigh beneath the velvet of my gown.The banquet began at seven.All twelve elders were present. The oldest, Don Rocco, was ninety-one and sat at the left of the head table. Salvatore Bonaventura from the West Coast sat at the right, directly across from me.Bonaventura was half-bald, his remaining hair dyed an unnaturally harsh black. He wore three rings on his hands; one of them bore the crest of a Vitiello Family elder.When I stood up with my wine glass, the entire banquet hall fell silent."Gentlemen," I began."Three months ago, my father's Family was hollowed out from the inside by a parasite. Today, I stand before you a