I Married His Enemy and Watched Him Burn
Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir.
Instead, the surprise was on me.
A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal.
I stormed his casino, demanding answers.
But I found her in his private suite. Sophia.
She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.”
I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face.
She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet.
Vince burst in and slap