Eight years married. Pregnant with his heir.

I had just secured a fifty-million-dollar arms deal for his family.

When I returned home, I found him tangled up with another woman, Isabella.

The new girl had the nerve to sneer at me. "So you're the great Elena," she said. "The gutter rat who married up."

"You have no class. No grace. Marco's mine now."

"So abort the baby, sign the papers, and get the hell out."

I turned to my husband.

He didn't say a word.

Quietly, my hand found the documents in my purse.

The fifty-million-dollar deal he thought was his.

It was mine again.

I gave him one last look. A predator's smile.

"Marco," I asked, my voice sweet as poison. "Are you sure you want to lose me?"

————————

1

I married into the Moretti family when it was on the verge of collapse. For eight years, I used the money-laundering network and intelligence system I built from scratch to drag the family back from the brink.

Even Marco's parents, the Don and Donna Moretti, treated me with the utmost respect.

I thought Marco, of all people, would understand the stakes.

"Elena, let's separate," Marco mumbled, his gaze fixed on the tips of his shoes.

His voice was quiet, but beneath the helplessness, there was a tremor of resolve.

A high-pitched ringing pierced my ears—a cruel new symptom of my pregnancy. As if on cue, a sharp kick came from my belly.

I lunged forward and grabbed Marco by his tie.

"Are you serious? I'm five months pregnant, and you want to end our marriage now?"

Marco remained stubbornly silent.

The fury inside me intensified.

Classic Marco. Avoidance. Silence. His signature response to any problem.

I was about to speak again when a sharp female voice cut in from the side.

"Oh, that's enough. Get off your high horse. Marco is trying to let you down easy, for old times' sake. When a man says it's over, it's over. Anyone with an ounce of dignity would just pack their bags and vanish."

I was the one who brought Isabella into this family, caving after dozens of pleas on her behalf. I never thought I was inviting a viper into my own home.

She would pay for this.

Isabella took another step forward, closing in on me.

"Are you deaf? I'm talking to you, you cheap piece of trash..."

Before Isabella could finish, I swung my hand and slapped her hard across the face.

"That's to teach you how to speak to the Donna of this family!"

I raised my hand again, aiming for Isabella's other cheek.

But just as my hand was about to connect, it was caught in a firm grip.

Marco's face was a mess of conflict.

"That's enough, Elena. If you're going to hit someone, hit me. I'm the one who got drunk and knocked her up. She's just a kid. I have to be responsible for her."

My throat tightened.

Rage and indignation churned in my chest.

But I couldn't utter a single word.

Marco's health had never been the best; for Isabella to get pregnant so quickly...

This reeked of a long-premeditated plan.

I suddenly remembered how Marco, once a chain-smoker, had abruptly quit a while ago.

When I had asked him about it, he had wrapped me in his arms, his eyes full of tenderness, and whispered in my ear,

"Elena, you're pregnant. For you, the baby, and our future, I have to quit."

I thought the man had finally matured, that he was ready to take on his responsibilities.

I never imagined it was all so he could have a child with the little tramp standing in front of me.

A wave of nausea hit me, and I leaned against the wall, dry-heaving.

Marco rushed forward to support me.

He chose his words with care, his voice a low murmur beside me.

"Elena, I'm sorry. I messed up. I'll give you time... but we need to end the marriage before Isabella gives birth. Please, try to understand. Her baby can't be born without a father..."

The familiar scent of his cologne washed over me on the cool breeze.

My heaves grew more violent.

I shoved him away with all my might, a chilling smile fixed on my face as I stared at him.

"What is there to process? Let's do it now."

Then, my gaze fell on Isabella's barely showing belly.

"The child in her belly can't be without a father, and neither can mine. Let's get this done. I need to find my son a more powerful father."

An unreadable emotion flickered in Marco's eyes.

"Elena..."

"Marco, she already agreed! What are you waiting for? Get the annulment papers!"

Isabella interrupted Marco with a pout.

Taking advantage of his daze, she had already placed the printed agreement in my hands.

I glanced at it and suddenly laughed.

"Marco, I don't get a single penny of the family assets?"

"Elena, this is the Moretti family. It was ours long before you. Besides, you were a nobody from the streets when I found you. You have no claim to any of it—moral or legal."

I had been grateful, or I wouldn't have married into the Moretti family when it was at its lowest point.

I had dozens of money-laundering channels, and outsiders were offering hundreds of millions to partner with me.

But I had let the Moretti family use them for free for eight years.

Nine out of ten of the Moretti family's clients came to them because of my network.

And now, with this annulment, Marco wanted me to walk away with nothing.

"Elena, if you're not willing, I can give you a small portion of my personal shares..."

"No. I'll sign. Let's do it now."

Sign it, Marco. Once this marriage is void, so is your power. And the Moretti family will be nothing but an empty shell.

The moment my pen lifted from the paper, a soft, mocking laugh came from beside me.

"What is there to be so proud of? You're a nobody. Let's see how you survive without Marco backing you."

"Marco and I are different. With my family's backing, Marco will be running Chicago within a year!"

I paused and shot Isabella a sidelong glance.

A vague memory surfaced—she was the daughter of some family, but I couldn't quite place her.

I tossed the agreement on the table and turned to leave.

Just as I stepped out, Marco called out from behind me.

"Elena, that Russian arms deal you handled today… did you close it?"

I slowly turned back to Marco and smiled.

"I closed it. Then, I sent Mr. Petrov a message canceling our agreement." I added, "Marco, our marriage is over. I have no desire to keep slaving away for the Moretti family. I hope you can understand that."

Marco, a coward all day, finally erupted. "Elena, do you have to be so ruthless?!"

He seethed through gritted teeth as he pulled out his phone to call the client.

The moment the call connected, Marco's face instantly broke into a sycophantic smile.

"Petrov... Mr. Petrov, hello, this is Marco from the Moretti family..."

"Marco? Who the hell are you? In Chicago, I only deal with Elena."

A click, and the line went dead.

Marco tried calling back, again and again, only to be met with the flat tone of a rejected call.

Marco slammed his phone onto the ground, his eyes fixed on me as he roared,

"Elena! Do you know how important that fifty million is? That's nearly a year's income for the family!"

I spread my hands.

"I know. But what does that have to do with me?"

Isabella quickly stepped forward, rubbing Marco's back and cooing softly to comfort him.

"Marco, don't worry. It's just a fifty-million-dollar deal. I'll go back and talk to my grandpa. Never mind fifty million, even five hundred million won't be a problem!"

I turned and walked away with a smile on my lips.

Behind me, Marco's resentful roar echoed.

"Elena, ending this marriage was the right decision! How did I never see what a vicious, disgusting bitch you are?!"

As Marco's curses faded behind me, I called the person who had introduced Isabella to the family.

"Dante, what's the story with that girl you sent over?"

"Her? She's the principessa of the Gallo family—if you can even call them a family anymore. Her grandfather, old Lorenzo, has been begging me for a meeting with you for five years. No dice. So he sent his granddaughter to get close, build a bridge. He wants your network, of course. Figured if you could save the Morettis, you could save the Gallos."

The fuzzy memory snapped into focus.

At several recent underworld gatherings, I remembered him now—the stooped old man bowing before me, a pretty girl trailing in his wake.

A bitter laugh caught in my throat.

So that's all this was. A farce starring two fools, each thinking they were the player. Pathetic.

I was at Dante's private club, giving him the rundown on Isabella's latest 'heroic' achievements, when one of his men knocked and entered, his face tight with urgency.

He carefully approached Dante, about to speak, but Dante waved him off.

"There are no outsiders here. Spit it out."

The man stepped forward, trembling.

"Boss, we're surrounded..."

"Surrounded by who?"

"They say they're looking for... for Donna Elena. They're demanding an explanation..."

Dante and I pulled out our phones almost simultaneously.

After seeing the news on our phones, my stomach dropped into a cold, bottomless pit.

The underworld was buzzing with rumors, all aimed at me.

【MORETTI BETRAYAL: ELENA CARRYING RIVAL DON'S HEIR?】

【THE LONG CON: WAS ELENA'S MARRIAGE A POWER GRAB FROM THE START?】

【SPITE & TREASON: JILTED WIFE ELENA SINKS $50M MORETTI DEAL!】

Messages from my associates started pouring in.

【Elena, I hope you can give us an explanation for these rumors. Otherwise, we might consider partnering with Marco next quarter.】

【Elena, let's put a pin in the collaboration we were discussing.】

There were even threats from unknown factions.

【Bitch! We'll spit every time we see you in Chicago from now on!】

【Shameless, ungrateful bitch! Hope that bastard in your belly is born with nothing!】

I slammed my fist on the table, my teeth gritted.

This had Marco and Isabella's fingerprints all over it.

I'd barely told my key clients I was splitting from the Morettis, and suddenly this filth erupts.

They were trying to box me in.

I grabbed my phone and started for the door, but Dante caught my arm.

"Elena, you're pregnant. Don't go out there. I'll handle this."

I pushed Dante away.

I had clawed my way out of hell once before. This was nothing.

When I stepped outside, I understood why Dante's man had been so panicked.

It wasn't just hired muscle; some of Chicago's heaviest hitters were out there.

Among them, I saw Marco's parents.

Sofia spotted me from a distance and immediately pasted on a smile as she walked toward me.

The moment she reached me, she grabbed my hand.

"Elena, I don't know how things got so out of hand. It must be because of that fifty-million-dollar deal. Did we upset Mr. Petrov?"

Marco's father also stepped forward, forcing a smile.

"That's right. You canceled a deal that was already agreed upon. It's only natural for them to be upset. Hurry up and apologize, get the deal back, and maybe these people will all leave."

I slowly pulled my hand from Sofia's grasp and smiled.

"Donna Moretti, Mr. Petrov isn't upset at all. In fact, he's in a great mood. I just re-signed the deal with him. Under the Romano family name."

I watched as the color drained from their faces.

A cold sneer rose in my heart.

It seemed they had a hand in today's spectacle as well.

To think I had poured my heart and soul into the Moretti family for all these years, only to feed a pack of ungrateful wolves.

My words made Sofia's expression twist.

"Elena, what did you say? You signed the agreement with Mr. Petrov under the Romano family's name? You are a Moretti daughter-in-law, why are you siding with outsiders?!"

I met Sofia's gaze, pulled the freshly signed agreement from my bag, and shoved it into her hands.

"I'm sorry, I have no connection to the Moretti family anymore."