"Honey, are you sure you want to go to the party tonight?" Vincent asked, fixing his tie. "If you're not feeling well, I can make your excuses."

"I'm fine," I said, applying lipstick in the mirror. "Besides, I want to see your new club. I hear you've got some new faces."

Vincent's hands paused for a second before he went back to his tie.

"Nothing special. Just some new staff."

"I heard a girl named Carmen is a real crowd-pleaser."

"I don't really keep track of names," he said, turning to kiss my cheek. "Come on, let's go. Don't sweat the small stuff."

In the car, I pushed a little more.

"Vincent, I was thinking we should buy a villa in Malibu. I hear the oceanfront properties are a great investment."

"Malibu?" His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "That's too far. The house we have is big enough."

"But I've seen so many of our friends buying property there. You can get a nice place with an ocean view for around eight hundred thousand."

Vincent almost slammed on the brakes.

"Eight hundred thousand? That's a very specific number. You been looking at a place already?"

"Just spitballing," I said, patting his hand with a smile. "Why so jumpy?"

"I'm not. I just don't think we need a house that big right now."

When we arrived at the nightclub, I told him I wanted a tour.

"It's just a club, Isabella. Nothing to see," Vincent tried to stop me.

"I'm the boss's wife, aren't I? Is it so strange for me to look at my own property?"

Vincent must have been afraid of making a scene, because he didn't argue.

In the hallway leading to the private booths, I saw her.

Carmen Rodriguez. Younger and prettier than in her photos. More brazen. She was wearing a tight red dress, her small baby bump obvious. The diamond bracelet sparkled on her wrist.

The one Vincent gave her.

"Vincent, that girl's bracelet is beautiful. Looks familiar, too."

"What bracelet? I didn't notice." He wouldn't even look in her direction.

"Why don't you introduce me? I'd love to meet our 'star employee'."

"Isabella, we should go," Vincent said, pulling at my arm, desperate to escape.

I wasn't about to let him off that easy.

I pulled my arm free and held out my hand to Carmen, a friendly smile on my face. "Hello, I'm Isabella Marconi. Vincent's wife."

Vincent had no choice but to force a stiff smile. "This is Carmen. She's one of our popular… dancers."

I saw the jealousy and bitterness in her eyes.

But she managed a tight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Romano."

My gaze drifted down to her wrist, and I spoke casually. "That's a lovely bracelet. It suits you." I barely hid a smirk. On her salary, that bracelet would take her ten years to earn.

Carmen quickly tried to hide the bracelet with her other hand, her eyes darting toward Vincent. "Thank you, ma'am…"

Her acting skills needed work.

I pretended not to see the look they exchanged, then took his arm and glided away.

I could feel Carmen's eyes burning a hole in my back.

Good. Panic. Get angry. You'll only make more mistakes.

Midway through the party, I excused myself to the restroom.

As I passed the VIP lounge, I heard Carmen on the phone.

"The baby's healthy. The doctor said we'll see Daddy in five more months." She was rubbing her belly. "Vincent is so good to me. I just mentioned I wanted a necklace, and he said he'd give me the Marconi family necklace, hahaha… As soon as the baby's born, he's going to divorce that old woman. Then I'll be the real Mrs. Romano."

I pushed the door open.

When Carmen saw me, her face went white.

"Congratulations on the pregnancy," I said with a small smile. "The father must be thrilled."

"Yes…" her voice trembled.

"How lucky for you." I wasn't ready to show my hand yet; a little tap was enough to make her panic. "But a word of advice, Carmen. Smart girls know what's not theirs for the taking. You can want it all you like, but it will never be yours."

I turned and left her alone in the lounge.

Back home, while Vincent was in the shower, I snuck into his private office again.

Inside the safe, behind the cash and documents, was a small box.

It held the Marconi family diamond necklace—an heirloom I gave him when we married.

I held it up to the moonlight. The diamonds threw off a cold, hard light.

Vincent was planning to give my family's legacy to his mistress. This wasn't just a betrayal of me. It was an insult to the entire Marconi family.

I closed my hand around the necklace, feeling the sharp edges dig into my palm.

"You made the wrong choice, Vincent. And I won't give you the chance to regret it."

A few days later, Uncle Dante's call came right on schedule.

"Carmen Rodriguez. Twenty-four, immigrant from Mexico. Moved into a Malibu beachfront villa three months ago, valued at eight-fifty. Yesterday at 2 PM, Vincent was with her at St. Mary's for a prenatal check-up."

"What else?"

"I got security footage. Vincent putting the diamond necklace on her himself. In the hospital parking lot. They also kissed for seventeen minutes."

I hung up and looked at Vincent, still sound asleep. He looked so innocent, so trustworthy.

"Isabella? You're up early," he said, reaching for me.

I moved away. "Hitting the gym. Got an important business lunch today."

"With who?"

"A friend," I said, getting dressed. "I'll make you your favorite pasta for dinner tonight."

Vincent smiled. "I married the perfect wife."

Two hours later, I was in the VIP section of Lafey's Salon, the best place in the city to pick up high-society gossip.

"Isabella! It's been too long!" Sarah Wagner, the mayor's wife, walked over.

"Sarah, you're looking wonderful."

"Thank you. By the way, I heard Vincent's nightclub is doing great business."

"It's doing alright," I said, feigning indifference. "He's been so busy lately."

"Well, it's good for a man to be ambitious. But Isabella, there's something… I don't know if I should say anything—"

I looked up at her.

"I saw Vincent at Cartier with a very young girl. They seemed quite close. I was going to go say hello, but—"

"Oh, don't worry about it. She's probably a new employee. Vincent mentioned he was training someone for management."

Sarah looked like she wanted to say more, but she let it go.

At 3 PM, Uncle Dante sent me an audio file.

Carmen's voice was crystal clear. "Vincent says that old hag Isabella doesn't understand him at all. She's boring and dead in bed. Can't even give him a child."

Her friend sounded hesitant. "Really? But Isabella Marconi is a mafia princess. Her family's powerful."

"So what?" Carmen scoffed. "I have his child, she doesn't. The child is everything. Vincent said once our baby is born, he'll divorce her. Then I'll be the real Mrs. Romano, and I'll even get a piece of the Marconi family fortune."

"Vincent really said that?"

"Of course! Look at this diamond necklace. It's worth three million. He said it proves how much I mean to him. That boring old woman could never compete with me."

I turned off the recording and took three deep breaths.

Then I called my father's consigliere.

"Uncle Dante, I've changed my mind. I'm not waiting."

"What do you mean?"

"It starts tonight. I want his whole world to come crashing down."

"Are you sure? Once we start, there's no going back."

I looked at myself in the mirror. For three years, I had played the part of the docile, supportive wife. But there was nothing docile about the blood that ran through my veins.

"I'm sure. Put the word out to all our partners. Vincent Romano is no longer under Marconi protection."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"Tell my father his daughter is coming home."

After I hung up, I walked out of the salon. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the city.

But for some people, the night was just beginning.

And it was going to be a very long night.

"Isabella, what's going on?"

Vincent burst through the door, his face a mask of panic. His hair was a mess and his shirt was rumpled, like he’d run all the way home.

"What do you mean?" I asked, calmly dicing tomatoes for his favorite pasta.

"My casinos… all my protection is gone. The Torrino family pulled their security. The Benedettis recalled their funding. Even my government contacts are ghosting me." He grabbed my arm. "This can't be a coincidence."

"Maybe it's just a business realignment," I said, stroking his cheek. "Don't worry. My father's people will still protect you. I'll always have your back."

A flash of hope in Vincent's eyes.

"Really? Can you talk to your father for me? I swear I haven't done anything to disrespect the Family."

"Of course, darling." I fought back the bile that rose in my throat and kissed his cheek. "We're husband and wife. I'm always on your side."

He hugged me tightly, like a drowning man clinging to a life raft.

"Thank you, Isabella. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I wondered what his face would look like if he knew the woman in his arms had unleashed this storm.

Two hours earlier, at the Family compound.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" my father asked, looking over the files I’d handed him. "Vincent is your husband. This will leave him with nothing."

"He should have thought of that before he betrayed me," I said, taking the seat across from him. "And he didn't just betray me. He betrayed the trust of this entire Family."

"I need to see the proof."

I laid out the photos, the videos, the bank statements. Everything.

"Is this enough?"

My father's face grew darker with every image. When he saw the photo of Carmen wearing the family necklace, his fist slammed down on the mahogany desk.

"That son of a bitch! He gave a family heirloom to a common whore!"

"So you understand why I have to do this."

"I understand," he said, picking up the phone. "Notify all our partners. As of today, Vincent Romano is no longer under Marconi protection. Yes. Effective immediately."

After he hung up, my father looked at me.

"Revenge is an art, Isabella. Make sure your hands stay clean."

"I understand, Father."

Now, watching Vincent seek comfort in my arms, I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"Vincent, go take a shower. I'll get dinner ready."

After he left, my phone rang.

The caller ID read: Carmen Rodriguez.

I let it ring three times before answering.

"Mrs. Romano?" Carmen's voice was nervous. "I think we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About Vincent. About you. And about my baby."

So, she's finally ready to squawk.

I glanced toward the bathroom. The water was still running.

"Tomorrow. Three o'clock. Presidential suite at the Four Seasons."

"You'll see me?" She sounded surprised.

"You're about to find out, Carmen," I said smoothly, "that I'm far more generous than you can imagine."

I hung up and smiled as I continued to prep dinner.

When Vincent came out of the shower, he looked much more relaxed.

"I feel better," he said, sitting at the table. "Isabella, will your father really help me?"

"Of course," I said, serving him a plate of pasta. "The Family always protects its own. But Vincent, if someone betrays the Family, the consequences are severe. You understand that, right?"

"I understand. I would never betray the Marconi family. And I would never betray you."

He looked me right in the eye, as if he truly believed every word.

That's the most dangerous thing about liars. Eventually, they even manage to lie to themselves.

"Good," I said, raising my wine glass. "To our future."

"To our future."

The clink of our glasses sounded like a promise. The promise of the perfect revenge.