My Mafia Husband Said I’d Never Cheat. The Twins Aren’t His

For years, while my husband ran his crime family and took other women to bed, I threatened to find a lover of my own.

By the hundredth time, Lewis James didn't even look up from the ledger on his desk.

“Mrs. James.” A cigarette hung from his lips, smoke drifting across his faint smile. “A hundred threats, and you still haven't fucked another man. Aren't you getting tired of this?”

I stood across from him in the study, where men twice his age waited for permission to speak. Behind me, his guards had shut the doors. They knew better than to witness an argument between the boss and his wife.