Blurb：
On their first wedding anniversary, Siena Pipino collapses at a lavish party, gasping for air after a severe allergic reaction triggered by Gianna Verde’s hazelnut dressing. Her husband, Carlo Pipino—the powerful Capo of the Pipino family—dismisses her agony as a dramatic performance, siding with Gianna, his childhood flame. As Siena’s throat swells and her lungs burn, she realizes Carlo swapped her allergy meds with melted M&Ms. Betrayed and humiliated, she activates a distress signal, only for Carlo to smash her phone and threaten her as a traditori. Gianna’s cruelty escalates with slaps and mockery, while the crowd eggs on the Capo’s coldness. In a moment of clarity, Siena vows to survive and expose the Pipino family’s secrets. This gripping tale of mafia romance, revenge, and resilience explores themes of loyalty, power, and the strength of a woman wronged.
Content：
At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floorface-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water.
Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing.
Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing.
One bite and boommy throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti.
I reached for my allergy medscame up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead.
Gianna laughed when she saw my face. “Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?”
I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my “performance” would last.
“Carlo… my meds…” I croaked. “Please. I’m gonna die.”
He sighed, annoyed. “God, you’re so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already.”
Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could.
I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.
Chapter 1
My phone lit up. [Ten minutes.]
‘Ten minutes,’ I repeated. Just hold on.
Carlobig bad Capo Pipinospotted the movement. His eyes iced over. “Seriously? Calling the cops?”
Before I could hide it, he yanked the phone from my hand and tossed it out the penthouse window.
A sharp crackthen nothing. My last link to the outside world, gone.
He crouched beside me, fingertips grazing my cheek, voice calm and lethal. “You know the rules. We don’t call cops. And trust me, darlingtraditori don’t make it out alive.”
I tried to shake my head, but my throat was locking up, my body heavy as lead. “I’m not a traitor… Carlo, I’m allergic… I need my meds…”
Gianna swooped in, latching onto his arm. “Oh, please, Siena. Is this real pain, or just your usual drama? It’s an anniversary party, not community theater. You really invite us here just to humiliate Carlo? That’s not lovethat’s just sad.”
The crowd cackled.
She dragged him away, and I saw it all againsame old reruns.
Gianna never shut up about knowing him first. Like that gave her a claim.
Any time I brought it up, Carlo would smile, tuck my hair back. “Baby, if anything was gonna happen, it would’ve happened already. Don’t overthink it.”
She’d chime in with a fake laugh. “Please, I’d never go for someone as bossy as Carlo. Only you could handle that ego.”
And I bought it. Dumb, right?
But then came the “coincidences.” Every date, she popped up. Every conversation, she hijacked.
I’d sit there, a ghost next to my own husband.
Then came the fake concern. “What’s wrong, Siena? Mad Carlo and I vibe too well? Don’t be so sensitive.”
Carlo never said a word. Just laughed. Like I was the problem.
Now she didn’t even pretend. “You’re seriously pathetic. Always acting like some spoiled princess. Ever think about how exhausting you are? Can’t even breathe without Carlo looking your way.”
“I’m really allergic,” I choked out. “Just… give me my meds.”
Silence. Then laughter, meaner this time.
Gianna cut through it. “Oh my God, she’s STILL pretending? Carlo, please tell me you’re not buying this.”
His boys jumped in.
“Don’t go soft now, Capo! Show weakness, and she’ll walk all over you!”
“Yeah, Capo! Put her in her place!”
Whatever sliver of doubt he had got drowned out fast.
He wouldn’t even look at me. “Enough, Siena. Cut the act. If you like the floor so much, we’ll keep playing that game at home. Everyone’s watching. Get up before I really lose it.”
I stayed down.
Something flickered across his facemaybe guilt, maybe fearas he took a step toward me.
Gianna stepped in fast, blocking him. “Carlo, don’t fall for it. Allergies don’t make people turn purple. She’s probably just drunk.”
I shook my head, barely able to move. “Meds…”
Before I could finish, Gianna crouched down and slapped me. Once. Twice.
“That better?” she sneered. “Feel sobered up now?”
My face burned, but she wasn’t done.
She pulled a tiny bottle from her purse, eyes glittering. “This what you want?”
Every nerve in me screamed ‘yes.’
Gianna laughed, shaking the bottle in her hand. “Then come get it, Siena. Crawl over, and it’s yours.”
I couldn’t stand, but survival’s louder than pride. I dragged myself forward, fingers clawing the carpet.
Just as I reached her, she yanked it back.
Gianna’s laugh sliced through the airhigh and cruel. “God, Siena, you’re pathetic! Crawling like a dog? Guess you’re just too slow.”
Then she tipped the pills into a glass of whiskey.
The white tablets hissed and disappeared in the amber swirl.
A sound ripped out of mepart sob, part strangled gasp.
Chapter 2
Gianna pointed right at me. “You guys heard that, right? She’s still screaming. Does that SOUND like someone dying?” Her voice dripped fake concern, pure theaterlike I was some freakshow for her amusement.
Next to her, Carlo’s jaw tightened. That lookthe one that always meant I was embarrassing him again. “Siena, enough. It’s our anniversary party. Can’t you, for once, not kill the vibe?”
Those words stung worse than any slap.
“I’m… not faking,” I wheezed. “I’m really allergic…”
The room spun, walls melting into black. My lungs felt like they’d been shrink-wrapped, but I still turned toward Carlobecause apparently, I hadn’t learned my lesson about hoping.
Gianna slinked between us, fingers curling around his arm. “Forget her, Carlo. She’ll drop the act the second no one’s watching. Come on, let’s cut the apple pie.”
The crowd parted like trained dogs, clearing a path for their grand entrance.
They sliced the first piece. The smell of cinnamon and butteronce comfortnow just made my stomach twist.
Then Gianna gasped like she’d been shot.
Her slice had “accidentally” slipped, jam smearing across her designer dress.
“Oh no, it itches. Am I allergic to the jam?” she whined, wide-eyed.
Laughter broke out.
“Jam can totally cause skin reactions, Capo! You better help her wipe it off!”
“Too bad, last napkin’s gone. What if it’s serious? You might have to lick it off!”
Carlo frowned, staring at the napkin box.
Gianna dragged a finger through the jam, voice low. “Carlo, help me”
“Enough,” he snappedthen leaned in anyway.
Someone shouted from the back, “Yo, Capo, your wife’s watching! Think she’s jealous?”
Another voice cackled, “Nah, she’s too busy starring in her own tragedy!”
Laughter exploded againugly, roaring, cruel.
Through the blur, I saw Carlo glance my way. Just once.
Then he dipped his head toward Gianna’s chest.
And time stopped.
The pain hit fastsharp, brutal.
The pie I’d baked for us? Just another prop in their sleazy little show.
I tried to move, crawl, anythingbut the second I pushed up, the world dimmed to black. My body refused to fight.
Then it hit memy spare pill. I’d shoved it into my coat pocket days ago.
My hands shook so hard I could barely grip the fabric. Seconds stretched like years. Finally, my fingers brushed something small and smooth. I yanked it out, vision flickering.
‘Almost there. Just get it in your mouth…’
But my hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
The pill slipped, bounced oncethen crunched under a jeweled stiletto.
Gianna.
She twisted her heel slow, deliberate, grinding until nothing was left but white dust. Then she pressed downon my hand. Pain shot up my arm. I heard a tiny crack, but no sound came out.
“Why…” I breathed.
Gianna crouched, her smile pure venom. “Let’s play a game, Siena. What if Don Suvari’s precious daughter just… died in a freak accident tonight?
“Her heartbroken husband would inherit everything, right?
“And if I happened to marry that grieving widower afterward…”
She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Then the Suvari empire would be mine.”
And just like that, it clicked.
She didn’t want to embarrass me. She wanted me gone. Dead.
But she’d messed up. The Suvari Family doesn’t hand their throne to outsidersespecially not snakes in designer heels.
I forced my eyes open, found the clock.
Three minutes left.
Gianna sighed, already bored. “You’re tougher than I thought.” She smoothed her dress, flashing that cold little smile. “Guess I’ll do you a favor and finish the job myself.”
Chapter 3
Gianna grabbed a slice of pie. “Heard you made these yourself, Siena. Why not try a bite?”
Before I could blink, she smashed it into my face.
Crust cracked. Hot jam hit like lava. It clogged my nose, filled my mouthI couldn’t breathe.
Panic tore through me, yanking out one last burst of strength.
“Help!” I choked, voice shredded. “SomebodyHELP ME!”
That finally got their attention.
Carlo stormed over, all fake calm and ice. “What’s going on here?”
Gianna froze, that smug grin flipping to fake concern in a heartbeat.
“Oh my God, Siena! How’d you make such a mess eating pie? Here, let me help you clean up.”
I tried to back off, but my legs gave out. I stumbled right into her.
She let out a high-pitched shriek and dropped to the floor. “Siena! I was just trying to helpand you shoved me?”
Carlo stormed over, fury flashing in his eyes. “Siena, can you stop humiliating yourself?”
Then he actually looked at memy skin tinted blue, lips shakingand for a second, the anger cracked.
“What’s wrong with her face? Maybe we should give her the meds?”
He took a step toward me, but Gianna caught his arm.
“Don’t let her fool you, Carlo. She’s just thirsty. Happens when she’s dehydrated.”
The second she said ‘thirsty’, his whole expression softened.
Gianna picked up a glass of clear liquid, her smile sugar-sweet. “Here, Carlo. Give it to her. She’ll only drink it if it’s from you.”
He noddedbecause of course he didand stepped toward me.
The second the rim hit my lips, the scent slammed into me.
Amaretto. Deadly with almond.
Terror surged through me. I jerked my head away.
That tiny act of defiance flipped a switch in him.
“I’m trying to help you, and you’re still putting on a show? Enough already!”
Gianna yanked the glass from Carlo’s hand and jammed it toward my face. “Let me do it. She needs to learn her lesson.”
She forced my jaw open. The liquid scorched its way down my raw throat like acid.
I hit the floor hard, choking, tears blinding me as I coughed and retched.
Gianna laughed, setting the glass down like she deserved applause. “See? A little water and she’s magically cured.”
Carlo actually nodded. “Guess she really was just thirsty.”
He turned to walk off, but I clawed at his pant leg, barely holding on.
“Help… me…” My throat was sandpaper. “My father is… Don Giovanni Suvari…”
Carlo looked down and actually scoffed. “Your dad’s the Don? Please. You clip coupons and chase clearance deals. We’ve been married for a yeardon’t you think I’d know if you were mafia royalty?”
Laughter exploded around us.
“Somebody’s watched way too many mob flicks,” someone cracked. “Now she thinks she’s the main character.”
Gianna lost it, laughing so hard she cried.
“Still clinging to that princess fantasy?” She kicked a crusty chunk of pie at me. “Here’s your crown. Go ahead, wear it. Dirty little princess needs a rinse. Lemme help.”
She grabbed the Amaretto and dumped it over my head.
The cold liquor drenched my hair and scorched its way down my neck.
Gianna’s laugh cut through the roomshrill, smug, victorious. “How’s that, princess? Feeling royal yet?”
Carlo leaned against the wall, arms crossed like he was watching a trainwreck. “Gianna, don’t overdo it.”
Yeah, not worried. Just didn’t want blood on his designer shoes.
I was fading fast. Every breath stabbed like broken glass. The air reeked of liquor, almonds, and straight-up evil.
Their voices blurred into one giant, echoing nightmare. My eyes flicked to the wall clock.
9:10.
That was it.
Nobody came. Maybe my family gave up too.
Just as my eyes started to close, the doors slammed open. White light flooded the room.
“Where is Siena Suvari?”
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