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A Sickness of Roses and Lies Novel Cover

A Sickness of Roses and Lies

To protect her husband, Moretti family Don Lorenzo "Enzo" Moretti, from a deadly trap, she secretly grounded his jet. But when his mistress, Sofia, took the trip instead and vanished in a brutal ambush, Enzo's grief turned into a violent nightmare. For three years, his wife endured relentless abuse, culminating in a tragic miscarriage. But a devastating overheard conversation shatters her reality: Sofia is alive, and Enzo’s cruelty is not trauma—it is a deliberate, malicious punishment.
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Chapter 1

Three years ago, I learned that a trap had been set for my husband, Lorenzo “Enzo” Moretti, Don of the Moretti family, by his nemesis, Dante Falcone.

To protect him, I secretly sabotaged his private jet, preventing him from flying to Miami for a negotiation.

Enzo’s mistress, Sofia Gallo, volunteered to go in his place to deliver the intelligence.

We later received news that her convoy had been ambushed and she had been brutally murdered. But a body was never found.

Enzo fell apart when he heard the news.

The story was that he’d developed a violent form of PTSD. I believed he was drowning in remorse.

Over the past three years, I have been in and out of the hospital countless times because of him.

And this time, he pushed me down the stairs—and I lost our child.

Worn down, I happened to overhear a conversation between Enzo and his consigliere, Marco.

“Don, Sofia is alive. Why are you still keeping up this charade? Aren’t you afraid the Donna will leave you when she finds out?”

“Leave me? Angry? What right does she have to be angry?”

He let out a cold laugh.

“If it weren’t for her, Sofia would never have been taken by that bastard Dante. Every bit of pain she’s feeling now? She brought it all on herself.”

————————

1

My mind went blank. I stared through the crack in the door, my eyes wide with disbelief.

In the study, Enzo held a photograph, a gentle smile on his face. “It’s been three years, and Sofia is as vibrant as ever. Dante must be treating her well. I’m sure she’s happy.”

Enzo’s Consigliere, Marco Vettori, adjusted his glasses, a note of caution in his voice. “If Miss Sofia weren’t safe, you wouldn’t have been so calm these past three years. Don, do you really intend to feign this illness for the rest of your life? The Donna’s miscarriage this time… the damage to her body is severe.”

“The doctor said she might never be able to conceive again. If she finds out—”

With a crisp snap, Enzo tossed the photo aside.

His eyes darkened. “Then make sure she never finds out.”

A sigh followed, laced with a helplessness I’d never heard from him before.

“When I lost Sofia back then, I was so angry I lost my mind. That was the only reason I took it out on Isabella. The first time she asked for a divorce, I panicked. I lied, said I had PTSD. These three years, watching her worry about me every day… I hated her. But seeing her suffer… a part of me ached for her.”

He even confessed, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m the one who’s truly gone mad.”

“But I’ve made my peace with it. Sofia has made her choice. It’s time to let her go and fix things with Isabella. As for a child… we’ll have one eventually.”

Then, as if recalling a fond memory, a gentle smile graced his lips.

But for me, it was like plunging into an abyss. A chill spread through my body, coiling around my throat until I could barely breathe.

Three years ago, I overheard that Enzo’s nemesis, Dante Falcone, had hired hitmen to eliminate him in Miami.

The moment I found out, I contacted Enzo and sabotaged his private jet to stop him.

The intelligence was critical, and he hesitated until Sofia offered to go in his place.

Not long after, we got the news: her convoy was ambushed, and she was presumed dead.

Enzo fell apart. He sank into despair, his grief twisting into violent rages.

All this time, I thought it was guilt that had consumed him.

But now I understood. All his grief, all his anger, all his madness—it wasn’t because of guilt. It was because the woman he loved was with another man.

I stumbled out of the hospital wing in a daze, the memories of my countless visits here—all because of him—flashing through my mind.

During one of his episodes, Enzo lost all reason.

Some were so severe he seemed ready to destroy himself.

To stop him from destroying himself, I let him destroy me instead. I became his target.

Sometimes, I thought I might die at his hands.

Back then, I told myself it was just the illness.

He didn’t mean it.

But now I realized—maybe he really did want me dead.

The ringing of my phone startled me. I answered without thinking.

The moment I answered, Enzo’s gentle voice came through. “Darling, where did you go? Why aren’t you in your room?”

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