Betrayed Wife: Saved By The Mafia King

Nessa POV

The villa was quiet when I returned.

I stepped into the foyer, where the click of my heels against the marble floors echoed the hollow emptiness of the life I had built here.

I went straight to the guest bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.

I looked at my reflection. Pale skin, wide eyes, the face of a victim.

Not anymore.

I heard the front door open.

"Nessa! We're home!" Salvo's voice boomed.

"Babe? Where are you?" Xander called out.

I walked into the living room.

They were both there, tugging at their loosened ties, slumping their shoulders in a performance of exhaustion.

"How was the appointment?" Xander asked, rushing over to me.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands reaching for my ankles. "You must be swollen. Let me rub them."

His touch made my skin crawl, as if a thousand spiders were skittering up my calves.

It took everything in me not to kick him in the face.

"The doctor said everything is fine," I said, my voice steady. "But he's worried about stress."

"Stress?" Salvo frowned, pouring himself a drink. "You don't have any stress. You live like a queen."

"I worry about the future," I said. "About the baby's security."

Xander looked up, his eyes gleaming. "That's why we need to handle the trust fund transfer, Nessa. So I can invest it for our family. For the baby."

He pulled a document from his jacket pocket. It was already folded, ready.

"I spoke to the lawyers," he said smoothly. "This just authorizes me to manage the portfolio. Standard procedure."

I took the paper.

It wasn't a management authorization.

Hidden deep within the dense legal jargon of the third paragraph was a single, devastating clause: Signatory voluntarily waives all parental rights and transfers full custody of any offspring to the legal guardian designated by the father.

He wasn't just stealing my money.

He was stealing my baby.

He wanted to take my child and raise it with Rissa.

I looked at him. He wore the face of an angel to hide the heart of a rat.

"I trust you, Xander," I said.

I walked over to the desk, picked up a pen, and signed.

But I didn't sign my name.

I scribbled a frantic loop that mimicked the visual shape of my signature but was legally unrecognizable.

"Thank you, baby," Xander breathed, snatching the paper. "This is for us."

Suddenly, both their burner phones buzzed at the exact same time.

They checked the screens, and the atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Emergency meeting," Salvo said, putting down his drink. "The Underboss needs us at the Guest House."

"Don't wait up," Xander said, kissing my forehead. His lips were dry.

They hurried out.

As Xander turned, something fell from his pocket.

A small white flower. A groom's boutonniere.

I waited until the door clicked shut, then picked it up.

It was a white rose, identical to the ones in the video I had seen.

They hadn't come from a meeting. They had come from a celebration.

I walked to the window and watched them head toward the Guest House-Building B, where Salvo's "staff" lived.

Where Rissa lived.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't used in years.

"Carlo," I said when the line connected.

"Principessa?" The old lawyer's voice was raspy. He had been my mother's Consigliere, loyal only to her bloodline.

"Liquidate the trust," I ordered. "Now."

"Nessa, your father..."

"My father is a thief," I cut him off. "Trigger the 'Clean Hands' clause my mother wrote. If Salvo or his associates attempt to access the funds, the assets freeze and transfer directly to me."

"Understood," Carlo said, his tone sharpening. "It will take ten days for the full transfer. Until then, you are vulnerable."

"I know," I said. "Cut off the laundering channels. Stop the flow to Xander's crew. I want them to starve."

"Done."

I hung up.

My phone pinged.

A flurry of photos arrived from a blocked number.

Xander and Rissa cutting a cake. Xander's hand on Rissa's stomach-she was barely showing, but the intent was clear.

The caption: My True Love Rissa.

Then a voice note.

I pressed play.

Rissa's voice filled the silent room. "Do you like the sheets in the honeymoon suite, Nessa? They're stained with everything he couldn't give you. He hates touching you. He says you're cold. But he burns for me."

I walked to the wedding photo of Xander and me on the mantle.

I picked it up and threw it into the fireplace.

The glass shattered.

I watched the flames curl around the edges of his smiling face, consuming the lie.

"Burn," I whispered.