Blurb：
When I discovered my husband Vince Moretti’s affair through black lace panties in his Maserati, my world shattered. Confronting him at the Queen of Hearts Casino, I found Sophia – pregnant with his heir. After Vince’s brutal slap caused my miscarriage, I embraced my true identity as a DeLuca princess of the underworld. My revenge? Marrying his worst enemy Dante Costello to burn Vince Moretti’s empire to the ground. This mafia romance explores betrayal, power struggles, and a scorned wife’s transformation from trophy wife to underworld royalty. Perfect for fans of arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, and strong female protagonist stories in the dark mafia genre.
Content：
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 pantiesnot mineleft 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. Ive seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says youre a boring little nun. Says he cant 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 slapped me so hard I hit the floor.
“Are you insane?! She’s carrying my heir!”
My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying.
And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her.
He forgot who put him on his throne.
Im not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld.
So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello.
And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke.
He got on his knees and begged me to come back.
Chapter 1
I made my husband the heir. Five years later, he repaid me by getting another woman pregnant. Then he killed our child to save hers.
But he didnt know who the hell he married. Im a DeLuca princess, not some trophy wife he can throw away.
It started with the scent on his suit jacket. A strange perfume.
Not my Chanel.
My fingers brushed the cuff of his shirt. A faint lipstick stain. The color of blood.
I dont wear red lipstick. Vince always said it was for whores, not his wife.
But now, hed clearly been kissing a woman who did.
My gut twisted. A woman always knows.
I dropped the jacket and ran to the garage. I knew Vince’s Maserati was there.
Hed claimed he was out on business. He always took a driver when he was working, leaving his Maserati behind.
I pulled open the driver’s side door.
On the passenger seat lay a pair of black lace panties.
A thong.
My vision blurred. Not my size. Not my style. I would never wear this.
“Damn it…”
My hand shook as I reached for them. The satin felt slick between my fingers. Still warm.
Vince Moretti and I had been together for five years.
When I wanted to marry him, my parents looked down on his family. They weren’t powerful enough. And Vince himself didn’t have what it took to be a Don.
But I was a fool for his handsome face and sweet lies.
I traded New York for Chicago, a DeLuca princess for a Moretti wife.
My mind for the arms trade and our underground network was a weapon. I used it to help him crush his half-brother and secure his title. I went from a DeLuca princess to the woman standing in his shadow.
For what?
So he could sleep with another woman in our bed?
I threw the panties back on the seat, slammed the car door, and called him.
“Bella, what is it?” Vinces voice came through the phone, cold as always.
“Where are you?” I fought to keep my hand steady, my voice even.
“An important deal. You know how busy Ive been.”
Lies. More lies.
Busy in someone else’s bed?
“Wheres the deal?”
Silence on the other end. Then, “The casino. You know, the new VIP section.”
The Queen of Hearts. His own private kingdom.
“Okay.” I hung up. I was going to confront him. Now.
An hour later, I was standing in front of the Queen of Hearts Casino.
The place reeked of money, sex, and desperation.
“Mrs. Moretti!” The doorman recognized me. “Are you looking for Mr. Moretti?”
“Is he in the VIP section?”
“Yes, ma’am. In the lounge upstairs.”
I walked straight to the elevator.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I told myself I was wrong. Maybe there was an explanation for the panties.
But when the elevator doors opened on the third floor, I heard laughter.
A womans laughter.
I followed the sound to the VIP lounge at the end of the hall.
The door was ajar. I could see the plush decor and dim lights inside.
“When is Vince finally going to ditch that frigid wife of his? He told me I’m the only one who can get him hard.”
A woman’s voice, sickly sweet.
I pushed the door open.
A blonde was lounging on Vinces leather sofa, talking on her phone like she owned the place.
She was poured into a tight red dress, her lipstick the color of blood. She was the one. The one whod marked him as hers.
She saw me and stood up, running a hand through her messy hair.
She was prettier than I’d imagined. Younger. A predatory kind of beautiful.
“You must be Isabella.” Her voice was a challenge. “I’m Sophia. I’ve seen your picture on your nightstand.”
Our nightstand…
A wave of nausea hit me. She said it so casually.
An image of her and Vince in our bed flashed in my mind.
Sophia smiled, a cruel, vicious thing. “He says youre a frigid little nun.”
She walked to the bar and poured herself a glass of champagne. “He says you don’t even know how to please a man. That he can’t even get hard looking at you.”
I felt my blood boil.
“Shut up.”
“Oh, the nun gets angry?” Sophia raised her glass. “To your marriage, darling. What’s left of it.”
I snatched the other glass from the table and threw the wine in her face.
“You bitch!” Sophia shrieked.
Then, everything happened at once.
Sophia shrieked, staggering backward as if I’d shot her. She tripped, crashing into the glass liquor cabinet behind her.
The sound of shattering glass ripped through the air.
And then there was blood. So. Much. Blood.
Sophia lay in a pile of broken glass, her arms sliced open.
The blood soaked her red dress. She curled into a ball, clutching her stomach.
“Oh my god!” I rushed forward. “Are you insane? I just threw wine on you!”
“Help!” Sophia shrieked, clutching her stomach. “She pushed me! My baby! She’s trying to kill my baby!”
The carpet was instantly soaked in blood. She writhed on the floor in agony.
The sudden chaos froze me. Then his voice ripped through the chaos.
“Isabella, are you insane?”
Chapter 2
The door flew open. Vince.
His eyes landed on Sophia in her pool of blood, and his face drained of all color.
“What did you do?” he roared, dropping to his knees beside her. He didn’t even look at me. It was like I wasn’t even there.
“She pushed me,” Sophia sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at me. “She tried to kill our baby!”
What baby?
“Isabella!” Vince whipped his head toward me, his eyes burning with a rage from hell itself. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t push her! I just”
SMACK.
The blow sent me staggering back. My cheek exploded in pain. My ears rang.
And in the middle of the shock, a sharp cramp tore through my abdomen. A sickening warmth spread down my thighs.
“Are you insane?” Vince snarled, his voice dripping with disgust. “She’s carrying my heir!”
Heir.
The word was a poisoned knife straight to my heart.
Vince scooped Sophia into his arms, her blood staining his white shirt. “Get a doctor! Now!”
“Vince, let me explain”
“Explain what?” He was already moving toward the door with her. “That you tried to hurt an innocent woman? That you tried to kill my child?”
They disappeared down the hall. Vinces men grabbed my arms before I could fall, dragging me after them like a prisoner.
I stood in a daze, my cheek on fire, the cramps in my stomach making it hard to stand.
Five years of marriage, and he didn’t even look at me. Not for a second.
I tried to make it to the restroom to see how bad it was, but my legs gave out and I collapsed.
The last thing I heard was the doorman who’d recognized me earlier, screaming for a doctor for me.
“Ma’am, what’s wrong? Hold on, we’re almost at Sacred Heart Clinic!”
Sacred Heart was the Moretti familys private clinic.
As they rushed me into the ER, I saw Vince pacing frantically outside an operating room.
Doctors and nurses were a blur of panicked motion.
They pushed me into another exam room.
The pain in my abdomen was getting worse, a deep, twisting agony. I gripped the bedsheets, my hair soaked with cold sweat.
A few minutes later, a middle-aged man in a white coatDr. Martinran out, a syringe in his hand.
“Boss!” he shouted, rushing to Vince’s side. “It’s bad. They’re both hemorrhaging. Your wife and Miss Sophia.”
Vince froze.
“We only have one dose of the serum,” Dr. Martin pleaded. “It’s the only thing that can stop this kind of bleeding and save the baby. Boss, you have to choose. Your wife… or Miss Sophia. We can only save one.”
Time stopped.
I lay on that cold gurney, staring through the half-open door at Vince.
My husband. The father of my child.
Who would he choose?
He never even looked my way.
Without a second of hesitation, he pointed to Sophia’s room. His voice was ice.
“Her. Save her.”
And just like that, he signed my baby’s death sentence.
“I need an heir,” he added, his voice devoid of any emotion.
I watched Dr. Martin take the syringe that could have saved my baby and walk into the other woman’s room, his face a mask of despair.
My world shattered.
The pain finally took over.
The last thing I heard was Vince’s voice, cold and clear. “Secure the room. Make sure my heir is safe.”
He called that liar’s non-existent baby his heir.
And ours? Nothing.
Just… darkness.
When I woke up, there was a hollow ache deep in my belly, like something had been ripped out of me.
Dr. Martin stood by my bed, his face pale as a sheet.
“My baby” My voice was a raw whisper.
The doctor wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Moretti. You lost the baby.”
Chapter 3
Rage burned through me.
I remembered the moment Dr. Martin told Vince I was miscarrying.
He didn’t care.
I ripped the tape from my arm and sat up, ignoring the nurse’s protests.
“Mrs. Moretti, you need to rest”
“Get out.”
I shoved past her, my bare feet hitting the cold floor.
Every step sent a fresh wave of pain through my abdomen, but I didn’t care.
It was nothing compared to the agony in my chest.
Sophia’s room was on the third floor.
I kicked the door open.
There she was, lying in bed, looking pale and pitiful.
Vince sat beside her, gently dabbing sweat from her forehead.
What a sweet, sick picture.
“Get out.” Vinces face darkened when he saw me. “You’ve done enough damage.”
“Damage?” I laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. “You want to know who’s been damaged?”
I walked toward him, every step deliberate, filled with murder.
“Our baby is dead, Vince. And you killed him.”
“Th-that’s not my fault.” He stood, squaring his shoulders, trying to reclaim some shred of dignity. “If you hadn’t gone after Sophia”
CRACK.
I slapped him with every ounce of strength I had. Harder than he’d hit me.
Final.
“You bastard!” My voice echoed in the sterile room. “You killed your own child for a whore! Have you forgotten who made you the heir?”
Vince touched the raw, red mark on his cheek. For a long moment, he said nothing. I thought I saw his eyes glisten with tears.
But when he looked at me again, the guilt was gone, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.
“The past is the past,” he said, his voice dropping, his fists clenching at his sides. “Now? You’re just a barren housewife who couldn’t give me a child for years. I need an heir. A son to carry the Moretti name. Not some jealous, hysterical woman.”
“But I was pregnant… with your child!”
“And he’s dead!” Vince shook his head, turning his back on me to face Sophia. “Right now, the only thing that matters is what’s inside her. You,” he said, his voice utterly void of emotion, “and that dead baby of yours… you’re worthless to me now.”
Worthless.
He said I, and our child, were worthless.
I looked at him, the man I had loved for five years, and felt nothing but cold, dead ash inside me.
“Vince,” my voice was chillingly calm. “Mark my words.”
I turned and dragged my hollowed-out body away, every step like walking on shards of glass.
Behind me, I heard him cooing to Sophia.
“Don’t cry, baby, our child will be fine. He’ll be my only heir.”
With our lives on the line, Vince had made his choice.
Now, it was time to make mine.
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing him out of my world for good.
Back home, I went straight to the toolbox and pulled out a hammer.
The first strike shattered our wedding photo, the one where we were smiling so brightly. Glass flew like the fragments of my heart.
The second strike pulverized the diamond on my finger, the one he swore would last forever.
The third, every gift he’d ever given me.
Every crack, every shatter, was a funeral for the child I’d never hold.
I pulled out a new burner phone and dialed a number I hadn’t touched in five years.
“DeLuca residence.”
“This is Isabella,” my voice was dangerously quiet. “I’m coming home.”
There was a pause on the other end, then a respectful, immediate reply. “At once, Princess. The jet will be waiting for you at O’Hare in one hour.”
I hung up and started to pack.
I took only what was mine. The rest, along with five years of memories, I left for this filthy city.
I stood at the door of the jet, taking one last look at the city that had buried my love and my child.
Isabella, the wife of Vince Moretti, died in Chicago.
The woman returning to New York was the Princess of the DeLuca family.
And I would make them pay.
In blood.
Chapter 4
Vince’s POV
After Isabella left, the only sound in the hospital room was Sophias weak sobbing.
I should have been relieved. Id saved the only thing that matteredmy heir. But a raw, jagged feeling was tearing at my gut.
All I could see was Isabellas face, her eyes when shed whispered, ‘My baby is dead.’
They were like cold ash.
Just then, Dr. Martin walked in, holding a file.
“Boss,” he hesitated, sensing the tension in the room. “We have Miss Sophias detailed blood work.”
“Read it,” I commanded, wanting this whole nightmare to be over.
“Her injuries are superficial, and the blood loss wasn’t life-threatening.” Dr. Martin paused, taking a deep breath as if steeling himself. “And… the report shows her HCG levels are… completely normal. She was never pregnant.”
The room went dead silent.
Time froze.
Slowly, like a rusted machine, I turned to face Sophia.
“What?”
“I… I thought I was. I really did,” Sophia stammered, her face whiter than the sheets. “My period was late, I just…”
“You lied,” my voice was low, dangerous, the calm before a hurricane. “You fucking lied to me!”
“Vince, I love you! I just wanted to have your baby so badly!”
“Love?” I lunged forward and wrapped my hand around her throat, lifting her from the bed as a hellish rage consumed me. “You made me murder my own flesh and blood! For a phantom you cooked up in your head!”
Sophia choked and gagged, her face turning purple.
I threw her aside like a piece of trash.
I sacrificed Isabella’s child because I thought I was getting an heir I could control.
But now… that heir was nothing but a goddamn lie.
I stormed out of the hospital and drove home like a madman.
Isabella… Bella…
Maybe I can beg for her forgiveness.
We could have another baby. We could start over.
But when I burst through the door, I was met with a scene of total destruction.
An empty hole on the wall where our wedding photo used to hang. Shards of glass covering the floor.
Every gift I’d ever given her was smashed to pieces.
Her closets were bare.
She was gone.
She was really, truly gone.
A tsunami of regret and fear crashed over me, drowning me.
I lost her. I lost my child. I lost everything… because of a lie.
A raw, animal sound tore from my throat as I collapsed to my knees.
Just then, the landline rang.
I lunged for it like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline.
“Bella? Is that you? Where are you?” my voice was a desperate plea. “Come home. We can talk. Please!”
“Vince,” her voice on the other end was pure ice, “our marriage died with our child.”
“No! That was a mistake! I didn’t know she was lying! We can”
“The divorce papers will be on your desk tomorrow. We’re done.”
“Isabella, please”
“Don’t ever call me again, Vince.”
The line went dead, leaving only a cold, hollow silence.
I let the phone drop from my hand and crumpled to the floor. My world had shattered.
Isabella’s POV
The DeLuca estate was magnificent in the dawn light.
I hadnt been back in five years.
The guards at the gate recognized me instantly, their posture snapping to attention.
“Welcome home, Princess.”
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