When The Mafia Queen Fights Back
I’m the Vettori family princess. The only one.
It was our fifth anniversary. A big dinner party at the estate.
A waiter spilled red wine on my husband Marco, heir to the Rossi family.
My best friend, Sofia, slapped the waiter. Hard.
Then she was all over Marco, helping him out of his jacket. Her hand lingered on his waist. A second too long.
I just stood there, watching. Sofia saw me.
"I was just closer, that's all. Helping him clean up. Don't overthink it."
I just smiled. Grabbed my glass. I went to make the rounds with the old dons from the other families. I would finish this night with my head held high.
Later that night, Marco crawled into my bed, stinking of booze. His hands were on my waist. He wanted sex.
I pushed him off.
"The alliance is over," I said, my voice dead. "We're finished."
Marco sobered up fast. His face went cold.
"I'm trying to apologize here. You're divorcing me because Sofia helped me with my jacket?"
I laughed.
He didn’t get it. Not until I threw the proof of his betrayal in his face. Not until I cut him off from my family.
Then he was on his knees, crying, begging me to forgive him.