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Fall of the Underboss Novel Cover

Fall of the Underboss

For five years, Lorenzo Moretti has treated his marriage as a cold political arrangement, filling his life with mistresses while dismissing his wife's noble demeanor as boring. Everything changes when a clumsy, admiring maid enters their estate, making the underboss feel like a hero for the first time. When the girl destroys a precious family heirloom, Lorenzo’s protective instinct turns into a cruel attack against his wife. Facing his blatant betrayal and hostility, his wife decides it is time for a new leader to rise. This modern romance story follows a woman ready to strip her husband of his power.
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Chapter 4

To celebrate the lost lamb’s return to the flock, Don Moretti hosted a special family dinner.

The long table was draped in white linen, and the silverware gleamed under the lights. Aside from Don Moretti, Lorenzo, and me, every core member of the family was present.

Lorenzo looked nothing like his old self. Even the beard he’d kept for years had been shaved clean, leaving him looking humble and obedient.

“Elena.”

He stood up, holding a thick stack of documents, and walked toward me.

“I was an asshole before and so immature. These past months, I’ve thought things through. These are deals I secured through my own connections. Please consider them my apology.”

There were several international trade contracts. The projected profits were staggering, enough to make the elders at the table visibly restless.

“All my effort, all the credit, belongs to my beloved—you, Elena. These deals are my vow, my resolve.

“As long as you sign, all profits are yours to control.” He handed me the pen, posture lowered. “I only want to do something for the family.”

The elders nodded, murmuring among themselves, praising Lorenzo’s “growth”.

Even Don Moretti smiled in relief.

“Elena, sign it. The Moretti family has an old saying. Husband and wife may fight in bed, but when morning comes, they still share the same sky.”

I took the documents and flipped through them quickly.

As expected.

On the surface, it showed massive profits. Underneath, however, it was nothing but landmines.

Lithium mining rights in a war zone, shipping routes running straight through pirate waters, and most amusing of all, the guarantor was a shell company.

These deals were guaranteed to explode.

If I signed, I’d become the sinner of the Moretti family.

It was a classic honey trap. He wanted to blow me apart with sugar-coated bullets.

“What? You won’t forgive me?” Lorenzo asked shakily, eyes reddening.

“Lorenzo.” I closed the folder. The snap was crisp and loud.

“You really have grown, learning to fool people with this kind of garbage.”

The room fell dead silent.

I flung the documents straight at his face, leaving pages scattered everywhere.

“Page three, clause four—mining rights valid for only three months. Page eight, clause two—liquidated damages at ten times the principal.”

I stood up and looked at him. “You brought this to me to sign? Do you think I’m blind or that everyone here is blind? Trash is still trash. A trip to Trinacria just turned you into trash with mud on it.”

Lorenzo stood there as the paper sliced across his cheek.

He didn’t get angry. Instead, he grew strangely calm.

“Elena, you really are smart.”

His voice trembled slightly. “So smart it makes it hard for people… to live.”

“Lorenzo!” Don Moretti frowned. “What is going on? Explain yourself!”

Lorenzo didn’t look at Don Moretti. He slowly bent down as if to pick up the scattered papers.

At that moment, a female server approached with a tray of red wine. Her head was lowered, but her figure looked oddly familiar.

When she reached my side, her wrist suddenly jerked.

The full glass of wine spilled across my chest.

Dark red liquid streamed down my white dress, resembling dried blood.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Madam!” The server screamed in panic.

I looked at her coldly and raised my hand.

“Smack!”

The slap was heavy, knocking off her server’s cap. Blonde hair spilled down, revealing a worn yet still garishly familiar face.

It was Sophia.

“Looks like Trinacria’s soil really suits people. Even you managed to crawl back,” I said, pulling out a napkin and wiping my hand, my tone sharp with mockery.

Sophia covered her cheek.

She didn’t cry, but grimaced at me. “Yes. I’m back. Elena, did that slap feel good?”

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