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I Built Your Empire, Now It Burns Novel Cover

I Built Your Empire, Now It Burns

I realized my husband did not love me the moment he stepped over my broken heart to answer a text from his mistress. Caleb was the "Architect," a feared Capo in New York, but he forgot that I was the one who funded his rise from the gutter with my inheritance. He brought his assistant, Kimberly, into our private penthouse. She wore my silk robe, mocked my past trauma, and snapped my dead mother’s rosary right in front of my eyes. When I lashed out in grief, Caleb didn't defend me. He pinned me against the wall, comforting her while calling me "unstable" and "violent." He gaslighted me, claiming I would be eaten alive without his protection. He thought I was just a fragile princess who would crumble without him. He truly believed he was the king, forgetting that I was the one who built the castle. I didn't cry. I simply wiped the blood from my arm and walked out the door. He didn't know that I owned thirty percent of his laundering front and the land beneath his precious casino. I picked up the phone and dialed the number of his deadliest rival, the Irish mob. "The bank is closed, Caleb. I’m selling my shares to the enemy."
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Chapter 2

Azalea Vitiello POV

The city smeared into a neon blur beyond the tinted glass of my armored SUV, a dizzying streak of light and shadow.

My hands trembled so violently I could barely grip the steering wheel. I had dismissed the driver.

It was the first time in four years I had driven myself anywhere.

My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, vibrating against the leather like a threat.

Caleb: Turn around. You are making a scene. The Commission will hear about this.

I ignored it, my foot pressing harder on the gas.

Caleb: Kimberly is worried about you. She thinks you are having a breakdown. Come home, Aza. Let me take care of you.

I let out a sob that tore through my throat.

Gaslighting wasn't just a tactic for him; it was an art form.

He wanted to paint me as the unstable wife, the fragile bird that needed its cage. If the Commission thought I was crazy, they would let him keep control of my assets if we divorced.

They would let him keep the Nexus.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, smearing mascara across my cheek.

I needed to think. I needed a weapon.

I dialed the one number I knew by heart.

Azura Moretti picked up on the first ring.

"I left him," I said. My voice was thick with tears, barely recognizable to my own ears.

There was a pause on the other end. Then, the sound of movement. Keys jingling. A door opening.

"Where are you?" Azura asked. Her voice was sharp, professional.

She was the daughter of the Family's Consigliere and the best defense attorney in the state. She was also the only person who hated Caleb as much as I loved him.

"I am on Fifth, heading toward the bridge," I said.

"Go to the safehouse in Brooklyn," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. "The one under the shell company name. He does not know about it. I am initiating extraction protocols. Do not stop for lights if it is late. Do not talk to anyone."

"He says I am crazy, Zu," I whispered, the fear clawing at my throat. "He says I cannot survive without him."

"He is a disgrace to the Oath," Azura spat. "And that little climber he keeps in his pocket is a snake in the grass. We knew this, Aza. We knew he was hungry for power. We just didn't know he would eat you to get it."

My phone buzzed again.

Kimberly: Aza, sweetie, please answer. Caleb is really upset. We just want to make sure you're safe. Don't do anything silly.

The audacity made my blood run cold. She was texting me from my living room.

"Block them," Azura said, as if reading my mind. "Block them both. Cut the cord, Azalea. If you want to survive this, you have to stop being his wife and start being a Vitiello."

I reached over and blocked the numbers. The silence that followed was terrifying.

I arrived at the safehouse twenty minutes later. It was a nondescript brownstone in a quiet neighborhood, invisible to the untrained eye.

I parked the car and ran inside, locking the three deadbolts behind me with shaking fingers.

Azura arrived ten minutes later. She looked like a Valkyrie in a trench coat, storming into the dim hallway.

She had a bottle of tequila in one hand and a legal pad in the other.

She pulled me into a hug that squeezed the air out of my lungs. I collapsed against her, the adrenaline finally fading, leaving me hollow.

"I gave him everything," I sobbed into her shoulder, my knees giving way. "I bought him his rank. I bought him the suits. I bought him the life."

"And we are going to make him pay for it," Azura said, pulling back to look at me. Her dark eyes were fierce, burning with a promise of violence.

I sat on the dusty couch while Azura poured two shots.

"He thinks I am weak," I said, taking the glass. The liquid burned on the way down, grounding me.

"He thinks you are the girl he met five years ago," Azura said. "The girl who needed a bodyguard. He forgot that you are the one who signs the checks."

I looked at the blank wall. I could feel the ghost of Caleb's touch on my skin. I felt dirty. Used.

"I want to hurt him, Zu," I said softly, the words tasting like ash and iron. "I do not want to just leave. I want to burn his empire to the ground. I want him to feel what it is like to be nothing."

Azura smiled. It was a terrifying smile.

"Then let's get to work," she said. "I know where the bodies are buried, Aza. And you hold the shovel."

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