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Mafia King's Debt: My Family's Fury Novel Cover

Mafia King's Debt: My Family's Fury

At my husband's nephew's christening, I saw him across the ballroom holding a newborn with another woman. I was four months pregnant with his heir, but he was presenting her son as his own. He had built a criminal empire, and our marriage was a strategic alliance. But now, the men who toasted our wedding were congratulating him on another woman's child, their gazes sliding right past me. My mother confirmed my worst fears: he'd been paying for his mistress's apartment for months. His mistress, Selena, cornered me, her voice dripping with venom. "He chose me. And our son." The stress brought on sharp, agonizing cramps, but when my husband, Dante, rushed over, he took her side. "Calm down," he commanded. "You're making a scene." He accused me of being hysterical, of cornering his fragile mistress who had just given birth. Through a haze of pain, I watched him shield her from me, his wife, telling me to go home and "be rational." The public humiliation was absolute. In the lawyer's office, Selena slapped me, then knocked over her own baby's carrier and screamed that I had attacked her child. Dante believed her without question. As I collapsed from the pain, the last thing I saw was his back as he walked away with his new family. I woke up in the hospital. He arrived with his mistress, not to see if I was okay, but to demand I apologize to her. That was the moment the woman he married died. And in her place, someone new was born.
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Chapter 1

At my husband's nephew's christening, I saw him across the ballroom holding a newborn with another woman. I was four months pregnant with his heir, but he was presenting her son as his own.

He had built a criminal empire, and our marriage was a strategic alliance. But now, the men who toasted our wedding were congratulating him on another woman's child, their gazes sliding right past me. My mother confirmed my worst fears: he'd been paying for his mistress's apartment for months.

His mistress, Selena, cornered me, her voice dripping with venom. "He chose me. And our son." The stress brought on sharp, agonizing cramps, but when my husband, Dante, rushed over, he took her side. "Calm down," he commanded. "You're making a scene."

He accused me of being hysterical, of cornering his fragile mistress who had just given birth. Through a haze of pain, I watched him shield her from me, his wife, telling me to go home and "be rational."

The public humiliation was absolute. In the lawyer's office, Selena slapped me, then knocked over her own baby's carrier and screamed that I had attacked her child. Dante believed her without question. As I collapsed from the pain, the last thing I saw was his back as he walked away with his new family.

I woke up in the hospital. He arrived with his mistress, not to see if I was okay, but to demand I apologize to her.

That was the moment the woman he married died. And in her place, someone new was born.

Chapter 1

Seraphina POV:

The crystal chandeliers of the ballroom felt like they were weeping light onto the scene of my life's demolition. I saw my husband, Dante Moretti, from across the room.

He wasn't looking at me. His gaze was fixed on the newborn cradled in another woman's arms, a look of paternal tenderness on his face I had only ever dreamed of receiving.

This was his nephew's christening. I was four months pregnant with his heir, the child meant to solidify the alliance between my family's old money and his burgeoning criminal empire.

I was supposed to be at his side, the picture of the perfect Underboss's wife. Instead, I was a ghost at my own party, watching him present another woman's son as his own.

The men who had toasted our wedding, their faces slick with false respect, now swarmed him and his new family. Their eyes slid past me, my swollen belly, as if I were nothing more than a piece of furniture.

My hand shook as I found a secluded alcove and dialed my mother.

"Sera? What is it?" her voice was sharp, cutting through my panic.

"He's here," I whispered, the words catching in my throat. "With her. And a baby."

There was a glacial silence on the other end. "That bastard," my mother, Elizabeth Hayes, finally hissed. "I knew it. My sources confirmed it this morning. He's been paying for her apartment for the last eight months."

The confirmation was a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. He hadn't just cheated. He had built a second life on a foundation of my money and his lies.

"He told me I was being paranoid," a raw, ugly sob escaped my lips. "That it was just the pregnancy hormones."

"You are a Hayes, Seraphina," her voice turned to steel. "You are not a victim. Do not confront him. Not yet. We will handle this."

I ended the call, a cold resolve beginning to crystallize in the pit of my stomach. Handle this? No. I would do more than handle this. I would burn his world to the ground. Just as I took a step out from behind the floral arrangement, a voice, dripping with saccharine sweetness, stopped me.

"Seraphina? You look so pale."

It was her. Selena Cole. She stood before me, a perfect picture of maternal radiance, her eyes glittering with a vicious, undisguised triumph.

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