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Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend Novel Cover

Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend

I stood by Franco for seven years. I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family. We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory. Until last month. I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house. He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man. He pinned her down. I chose to walk away. I heard the rumors later. After I left. Franco lost his mind.
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Chapter 1

I stood by Franco for seven years.

I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family.

We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory.

Until last month.

I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house.

He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man.

He pinned her down.

I chose to walk away.

I heard the rumors later.

After I left.

Franco lost his mind.

Chapter 1

"Franco, aren't you done yet."

Today was his official promotion to Underboss.

We were exactly half a month away from our seven-year promise.

I canceled all my syndicate meetings.

I poured his favorite Macallan whiskey and waited for him to come home to the penthouse.

I could not suppress my joy.

Our life-and-death journey was finally bearing fruit.

"Go to sleep first. Do not wait up. A shipment went wrong at the docks and I will be back as soon as I handle it."

His words were cut off by a sweet female voice.

She asked him to help her unzip her dress.

Click.

The call disconnected.

My mind went completely blank.

Franco was cheating.

He was not at the docks.

He was in another woman's bedroom.

An encrypted message popped up on my phone.

Franco had gained too much power recently.

He was dealing with all kinds of dangerous people.

I had started paying attention to the underground intelligence network.

I never expected today's black market headline to be about him.

The alert read that the new Moretti Underboss was hiding a mistress in a luxury condo.

It detailed a five-year secret affair between the Brooklyn mobster and a Lower East Side dancer.

The attached surveillance photos showed them entangled together over the span of five years.

I stared at the expensive whiskey I had poured.

I felt entirely ridiculous.

A sincere heart could mutate in an instant.

It was two in the morning.

Franco's phone went straight to voicemail.

I did not have the energy to interrogate him.

I recalled every bullet he took for me.

I felt like I had been living in a hallucination he meticulously crafted.

My absolute trust in him bought me this exact outcome.

The secure satellite phone in his study rang.

I picked it up.

I did not make a sound.

I desperately wanted an explanation.

As long as he explained it, I would force myself to believe him.

The sounds coming through the receiver were vile and unmistakable.

I prepared to hang up.

Then I heard his familiar voice.

"Franco, what if Siena finds out you are being this reckless."

"Relax. A woman like her cannot leave me. She threw her life away to protect me back then. I would not even look at her if I did not need a smooth transition into the Moretti family."

"But Franco, Siena cleared out so many of the Don's spies for you over the years."

I was just a stepping stone in his eyes.

"More than that. I control the entire South Side now. Once this arms deal goes through, the old Godfather is no longer a threat. The whole family will have to look at my face. As for Siena, I can kick her to the curb whenever I feel like it."

Laughter erupted through the speaker.

Followed by heavy panting.

I stood up.

I smashed the crystal bottle of Macallan against the hardwood floor.

I tore down the celebration banners like a madwoman.

A long time passed.

I walked back to the master bedroom.

I looked at our bed.

The phantom image of those two twisting together played right in front of my eyes.

I had never seen this version of Franco.

He was always fiercely loyal in front of me.

He was never this arrogant.

It was all an act.

A suffocating sensation drained the blood from my veins.

Tears spilled out of my eyes.

I unclasped the silver cross necklace he gave me.

I dropped it into the drawer.

Franco, I do not want you anymore.

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