Lure My Husband's Mafia Uncle

For three years, I let my husband, Sonny Moretti, humiliate me.

He loved to put on a show for his men.

"My uncle Marco always wanted her," he'd boast, laughing.

"Now she crawls at my feet like a pathetic dog."

He thought I was broken. He thought he had won.

What the fool never knew…

I was lying in his uncle's bed, covered in the marks the man had left on my skin.

————————

1

Sonny Moretti returned from Las Vegas, and for the first time in our marriage, he actually brought me a gift.

I stared at the velvet box, not reaching for it.

“What, are you stupid? I toss one cheap trinket your way and you’re already this touched?” he scoffed, tossing the box onto the table.

I didn't stir. Let's see what new game you're playing now.

I slowly opened the box.

Inside was a custom necklace.

But the name engraved on it wasn’t mine. It was Tiffany, his latest mistress.

I suppose his taste wasn't complete garbage this time.

Just then, my phone rang.

Sonny answered it without hesitation and put it on speaker.

Tiffany’s voice filled the room.

“Sonny, baby, you didn’t accidentally give my present to that buzzkill wife of yours, did you?”

Sonny paused for a second, then slid into a flirtatious tone.

“Baby, didn’t you help me pack?”

She giggled coquettishly.

“Oops, you caught me. I did it on purpose. She’s not going to be mad, is she?”

Sonny glanced at me, his tone dismissive. “She wouldn’t dare. She wouldn't say a damn thing if I brought you home to our bed.”

I raised an eyebrow. He was right.

In the past, I wouldn't have gotten angry, because my love for him had left me with no self-respect.

Now, I wouldn't get angry because I felt nothing for him at all.

But Sonny was still living in the past.

Tiffany huffed. “Hurry back, I miss you.”

Sonny grunted in agreement and hung up.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Perhaps my indifferent expression annoyed him.

“Sharon, I do you the favor of bringing you a gift, and this is the thanks I get?” he roared.

I was about to say something, but he strode closer, looming over me.

“Sharon, I never realized how greedy you were. I can give you money and gifts, but you don't get to ask for them. Understand?”

A clear warning: know my place. Don’t even think about touching the family’s money.

I almost laughed out loud.

He could casually buy his mistress jewelry worth hundreds of thousands but was stingy about giving me a single dollar for household expenses.

This marriage was a joke.

When he saw I was ignoring him, he rapped his knuckles on the table. “And drop the jealous wife act. I don’t have time for your games.”

He turned to leave but stopped at the door.

“Oh, right. Stay away from my uncle Marco. Don’t meddle in family business you shouldn't be involved in, or no one will be able to protect you.”

With that, he hurried away.

Just then, a text from his uncle Marco lit up my burner phone. I glanced at the encrypted message and smiled.