He Killed Love, She Killed His Empire

I was securing the diamond clasp of my necklace when the security monitor blinked to life, revealing my husband burying his face between his assistant's thighs.

Just an hour later, Dante Moretti stood by my side at the Gala, playing the part of the devoted Capo, while his mistress smirked at me from across the room in a dress that screamed for attention.

I wanted to leave. I had packed my bags, ready to disappear.

But then the doctor told me the news: I was six weeks pregnant with the Vitiello-Moretti heir.

I thought the baby might save us. I thought it would stop the madness.