The Divorced Wife He Could Never Afford

I spent ten years building a mafia empire with my husband, Julian, taking bullets and laundering millions to make him the untouchable Don.

But today, he slid a fifty million dollar divorce settlement across the boardroom table, demanding I step down to make room for his naive new mistress.

He stripped me of my titles and gave her my Underboss pendant. He fabricated rumors of my infidelity to ruin my reputation in the Underworld, just to build a spotless pedestal for her.

When I was bleeding out in a turf war, he let her hang up my desperate call for backup.

"Julian had a stressful day, please do not bother him with your gang drama."

He didn't even apologize. Instead, he threatened to feed me to rival families if I didn't disappear, leaving me completely isolated and hunted by assassins.

Ten years of hiding bodies and surviving for his sake were reduced to a severance package. I stared at the man who once slaughtered an entire syndicate just to crown me his Queen, feeling nothing but a suffocating betrayal. How could he abandon our blood-soaked vows for a cheap replica playing a dangerous game?

I didn't cry or beg him to remember us.

I calmly signed the papers, stepped out of his fortress, and initiated a live broadcast to the highest judges of the Commission, leaking the corrupt ledgers that would burn his empire to the ground.