Blurb：
He promised forever, but shattered everything. Michael Falcone, the powerful Mafia Godfather, thought his wife Jennifer would always endure his infidelities. After his mistress Amanda caused her mother’s death, Jennifer’s heart turned cold. Using the asset transfer agreement, she plotted her escape from the Falcone family. In a world of arranged marriage, betrayal, and Mafia power struggles, will Jennifer succeed in reclaiming her life? Dive into a story of love, revenge, and the dark secrets of the Falcone dynasty. Keywords: Mafia romance, strong female lead, emotional thriller, betrayal arc.
Content：
My husband Michael was Mafia godfather.
In the third year of our arranged marriage, he paraded his new mistress in front of me.
He stood by when that bitch caused my mother’s death.
He hung up on me to comfort his crying mistress when I called him for help.
Afterward, he sent me a diamond bracelet as compensation.
He insisted I would always be the one and only Mrs. Falcone and that woman was merely distractions.
But my mother was gone, and my heart was dead.
What was the point of being Mrs. Falcone anymore?
After my mother’s funeral, I retrieved the asset transfer agreement I had prepared in advance.
It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that I finally heard Michael stumble in.
The smell of whiskey and another woman’s perfume on him disgusted me.
“Jennifer, did you like the bracelet I sent you?”
A smear of lipstick still stained his face as he leaned in to kiss me.
I fought back a wave of nausea and handed him the stack of documents.
He squinted, flipping through them, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking smirk.
“More family authorization documents?”
“It seems I’ve trained you well. A proper Consigliere in the making.”
“Fine, a few routine authorizations. Stop bothering me with these trifles.”
With that, Michael carelessly scrawled his name on one document after another.
When he reached the last one, an agreement concerning the dockside warehouses, he suddenly paused.
“What’s this? This one looks different.”
My heart ached. Before I could say a word, his mistress Amanda’s call came through.
“Michael, you promised you’d spend the night with me.”
“Why did you go back just because she’s a little upset? You’re playing favorites.”
Hearing Amanda’s sobs, Michael’s breath hitched.
He quickly signed his name on the final agreement, grabbed his coat, and turned to leave.
At the door, as if remembering something, he glanced back at me.
“Jennifer, be more generous with Amanda.”
“And don’t let outsiders see the family as a joke. Though our marriage was arranged, we’ve become families anyway.”
With a heavy thud, the door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the vast villa.
The endless night swallowed me whole.
I stared at the signed agreements in my hand as tears finally blurred my vision.
I met Michael three years ago.
At the time, my family owed the Falcones enormous debt.
In exchange for my mother receiving cutting-edge experimental medical treatment, I agreed to the marriage.
For Michael, it seemed to be love at first sight.
Even for a political union, he swept me off my feet with grand romantic gestures.
He would cut family meetings short just to take me to an art exhibition.
He remembered all my preferences and planted an entire estate of roses for me.
During my most helpless and desperate days as my mother’s condition worsened, it was Michael who had mobilized the entire family’s resources.
He locked down half of New York City and flew in Europe’s top medical team on a private jet to save my mom.
At that time, his arm still bore fresh wounds from a clash with a rival family.
Yet he held me tight and swore:
“Jennifer, stay by my side.”
“I swear, I will make you the most respected Mrs. Falcone.”
“For the rest of my life, I will only love you.”
Seeing the raw devotion in his eyes, I wept, believing I had married for love.
But the fairytale didn’t last long.
He soon grew tired of a life with only me, and all-nighters in clubs became his new routine.
When I got angry, he would compensate me with expensive jewelry.
When I suggested taking my mother and leaving, he threatened to cut off her treatment.
Our vows became nothing but a pile of lies.
Everything he had promised became the bars of a cage that imprisoned me.
Later, Michael grew tired of arguing.
He gave me a black card with no limit and laid out his classic Mafia philosophy.
“Jennifer, I love you, but it’s impossible for a man to have only one woman.”
“You are my wife, the matriarch of this family. That will never change.”
“As for the women outside, they are just for amusement.”
In three years of marriage, the lovers by his side came and went.
Only Amanda had remained with him for a full six months.
He broke his own rules for her again and again, slowly eroding what little was left of our love until my heart turned to ice.
Now, my mother was dead.
I no longer had to endure this loveless marriage for her sake.
Once this thirty-day asset transfer period was over, Michael and I would be done for good.
More than ten days passed, and Michael still hadn’t come home.
I stayed in the villa, sorting through my mother’s belongings and settling her ashes.
I knew Michael was in Miami with Amandashopping, drinking, watching sunrises.
He never sent me a single message.
Amanda, however, used a different number each day to send me intimate photos of them together.
All the patience and companionship I had craved, Michael lavished on her instead.
After I blocked Amanda’s number for the seventeenth time, Michael finally came home.
He held out a bouquet of slightly withered roses, acting as if he’d just returned from a short business trip.
He spoke to me nonchalantly:
“Jennifer, I’m tired. Have the kitchen make me something to eat.”
He was completely unconcerned about the glaring hickey on his neck or the perfume clinging to his clothes.
When I didn’t move, he frowned with a hint of impatience.
“Still angry about Amanda?”
“I told you, it was just a little girl’s prank. You’re overreacting.”
“Alright, don’t give me that look.”
“I’ve replaced the flowers for you, and I’ll have someone replant the rose garden.”
“As for your mother I’ve already contacted the best sanatorium in Switzerland.”
A sharp pang of grief shot through me, and my eyes burned with unshed tears.
It had been over half a month, and Michael still knew nothing of my mother’s death.
He was even using such a clumsy lie to placate me.
I suppressed my heartache and looked at him.
He was texting Amanda again, with a tender smile on his lips.
Three years. Had he already forgotten everything?
Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.
Startled by my expression, Michael fumbled to comfort me.
“Don’t cry, Jennifer. I’ll spend more time at home with you from now on, alright?”
The words had barely left his lips when his phone rang.
“Don Falcone, the banquet is starting. Amanda has been waiting for you.”
It was his Consigliere, Robert.
Michael glanced at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
“Alright, Jennifer, I said I’d stay with you, and I won’t go back on my word.”
“We’ll go together. You can get out and clear your head.”
Without giving me a chance to refuse, he dragged me into the car.
As soon as he opened the car door, I spotted an earring belonging to another woman on the seat.
Michael, looking a bit awkward, quickly tossed it out the window.
“She’s just a kid. She doesn’t know any better. You need to be more understanding.”
I didn’t get angry as he had expected.
I just calmly took out a wet wipe and meticulously cleaned the leather seat.
Michael froze, instinctively shifting his body to block the intimate photo of him and Amanda stuck to the dashboard.
He asked tentatively, “You’re not angry?”
“There’s nothing to be angry about.” I turned my gaze indifferently out the window.
He didn’t knowthe moment he signed that paper, he became a stranger to me.
He wasn’t even worth my anger anymore.
The rest of the drive was silent.
Michael tried to speak several times but seemed unable to find the words.
Ever since he’d introduced that twisted Mafia code into our marriage, we’d lost the ability to have a civil conversation.
All that remained were endless arguments and rage.
And at this moment, I didn’t even have the strength to argue.
My mother’s death had drained the last of my energy.
I just wanted to get through these last few days in peace and escape this rotten marriage for good.
When we arrived at the banquet, a crowd surrounded us the moment we walked in.
I was pushed to the side, my lower back slamming hard against the sharp corner of the bar.
Amanda, dressed in a sexy red evening gown, glided toward us.
“Michael, today is our six-month anniversary.”
“I don’t want any expensive gifts. I just want to borrow the sapphire necklace your mother left you Just for a little while.”
“So that I can pretend just for a moment that I’m your wife.”
Her performance was a masterful blend of charm and sincerity.
It wasn’t just Michael. Even the family members around seemed moved.
However, Michael strode forward and pulled Amanda into his arms.
“I promise.”
The media, already poised, immediately swarmed in with their cameras.
They captured the blissful moment as Michael fastened the necklace around Amanda’s neck.
I lowered my head, a bitter smile touching my lips.
When Michael and I were married, he said we should keep the ceremony simple.
I didn’t care about formalities. I only asked to see the matriarch’s necklace.
But Michael said the time wasn’t right, that we would talk about it later.
That “later” turned into three years.
He waited until we were on the verge of breaking apart.
He waited until I had to watch with my own eyes as he placed it around another woman’s neck.
He waited until I finally understood that Michael hadn’t changedhe just never truly respected me.
The love I thought was real?
It was nothing more than a passing game for a Mafia godfather.
After the banquet ended, Michael left with Amanda without glancing my way.
I returned alone to the empty villa and sat at the dressing table all night.
As dawn approached, I opened the safe and took out the last thing my mother had left mea worn-out USB drive.
I plugged it into the computer. Inside was a video my mother had recorded before her death.
“Jennifer, my child…” On the screen, my mother looked pale but forced a smile.
“If you’re watching this video, it means I’m gone. There’s something I must tell you…”
After the video finished playing, I felt chilled to the bone.
It turned out my mother had known Amanda’s true identity all alongshe was sent by a rival family, getting close to Michael to dismantle the Falcones.
And the most ironic part was that Robert, the man Michael trusted most as his Consigliere, was Amanda’s biological father.
I immediately contacted a private investigator, demanding an in-depth investigation into Robert.
At the same time, I accelerated the pace of the asset transfer.
Just three days before the transfer deadline, Michael stormed into my bedroom in a rage, throwing a stack of photos in front of me.
“Explain this, Jennifer.” His eyes burned with fury.
“Why were you meeting privately with someone from the Costa family?”
In the photos, I was meeting with the second son of the Costa family at a caf.
That was three days ago, when I had arranged to meet an informant to investigate Amanda.
“Having me watched?” I sneered, “Michael, when did you become so pathetic?”
He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it nearly crushed my bones.
“I warned you not to betray the Falcone family.”
“Betrayal?” I stared straight into his eyes.
“While you’ve been sheltering my mother’s killer by your side, what right do you have to talk about betrayal?”
Michael froze, his grip loosening unconsciously. “What do you mean?”
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