My Mafia Husband Chose My Sister, So I Chose My Lost Love

By the tenth year of my marriage to the Moretti Don, I was finally tired of it all.

I stopped checking which villa he had gone to at night, or which woman he had slept with.

And I no longer cared whether Lucien Moretti loved me.

Even when the family doctor sent over birth control pills, I swallowed them without so much as a frown.

Lucien returned to the Moretti estate after dark.

He stood beside the bed and said my name in a low voice.

“Clara, I haven’t been back the past few days because Vivian got hurt.”