Beneath the Mafia Crown

Before I could say anything, Viktor snatched my phone from my hand, his expression turning cold.

"Mia. Bella and I are celebrating our anniversary. Don't interrupt us."

Soft sobbing came from the other end of the call.

Viktor's tone immediately softened.

"What happened?"

Mia was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

"Viktor... I ran into a Capo from the Camorra. He almost..." She broke down into sobs. "I almost got assaulted."

Viktor's face changed instantly. His jaw tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

He hung up, then turned and pulled me into his arms, guilt written all over his face.

"Bella, something happened to Mia. I need to go."

He hesitated briefly before adding, "You know my father made me promise to take care of her before he died."

I looked at him and almost laughed.

What a devoted brother.

Devoted enough to sleep with her.

Suppressing the wave of disgust rising in my throat, I forced out a smile.

"Go ahead. Be careful."

"I'll make it up to you when I get back."

Viktor kissed my forehead and strode out of the room.

The moment his footsteps disappeared down the hallway, I immediately called the hotel manager.

"Luca, pull the security footage from outside Presidential Suite 520 and send it to me."

This seaside hotel was one of the Palma family's private properties, hidden from the public eye.

The footage arrived quickly.

The timestamp showed forty minutes earlier.

In the video, Mia slipped out of Suite 520 with flushed cheeks and disheveled clothes, sneaking down the hallway like a thief.

My stomach dropped.

I opened Mia's Instagram page.

She updated constantly, posting suggestive photos with her boyfriend for attention. She had built a decent following online, somewhere between influencer and minor celebrity.

A new post had just gone up.

It was a heavily censored bedroom photo, paired with a mocking caption:

'My boyfriend was way too intense last night. My legs are still weak today. Unlike certain older women who can only rely on toys.'

The lighting in the picture was dim, making the man's face impossible to see.

However, the tattoo across his chest stood out with brutal clarity.

"VIY."

My hands instantly went cold.

V-I-Y.

Viktor Loves Isabella Yolanda.

He had gotten that tattoo the day before our wedding.

On our wedding night, he held my hand and told me, "These letters will stay with me for the rest of my life. My loyalty is carved into my heart."

And now that same tattoo appeared in a photo of him in bed with his stepsister.

My vision darkened with rage. I shut my eyes and took several slow breaths before forcing myself to calm down.

Then I left the suite and headed toward the hotel restaurant downstairs.

I needed a drink.

I needed silence.

However, the moment I reached the entrance to the second-floor restaurant and raised my hand to push the door open, I froze.

A woman's breathless moans drifted from inside, mixed with a man's rough breathing and the dull scraping of furniture against the floor.

My hand stopped midair.

Through the narrow gap in the half-open door, I looked inside.

Mia was straddling a man on top of one of the dining tables, the two of them tangled together shamelessly.

The man's broad back was painfully familiar.

I had stared at that back for seven years.

It was Viktor.

Mia's voice was soft and cloying.

"Why are you in such a hurry, big brother? Couldn't even wait until we got back to the room?"

Viktor let out a low breath.

"You came here dressed like that just to tempt me. How was I supposed to resist?"

Mia laughed lightly.

"You put me in Room 169, three floors away from your Suite 520 with Isabella. I wanted Room 521 right next to you. Would've made it easier for you to sneak over."

"Stop it." Viktor's voice carried unmistakable indulgence. "Your sister-in-law is upstairs. Keep your voice down."

Mia giggled.

"What's there to be scared of? It's lunchtime. Isabella never comes downstairs when we stay at hotels."

She deliberately dragged out the next sentence.

"Besides, didn't you say she's like a lifeless doll in bed? She can't even make a sound. You only like hearing me."

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

Then I stepped back and pulled out my phone.

[Bring the micro cameras to Room 169. I want everything installed within five minutes.]

The reply came almost instantly.

[Understood, Principessa.]

I took a slow breath and walked toward the restaurant entrance.

My heels struck sharply against the marble floor, each deliberate step echoing through the corridor.

Then I stopped at the doorway and shouted:

"Mia? Is that you in there?"