My Mafia Husband's Photo Game

Carter was visibly stunned.

He probably never expected his wife, the one who was always so gentle and obedient, would suddenly turn on him like this.

Remembering our promise, his gaze faltered, and a rare look of guilt crossed his face.

Three years of dating, five years of marriage.

Seeing him like this, the last, laughable shred of hope in my heart shattered into dust.

I once thought his only flaw as a husband was his obsession with having fun.

Now I see he isn't fit to be a father.

Perhaps the scorn in my eyes was too obvious. Carter avoided my gaze, loosening his tie as he fumbled for an excuse.

"You know how it is, Sloane. I got an urgent call right then. Family business, it couldn't wait..."

"Oh, really?"

I looked at him coldly, then at Sofia, who stood beside him ready to jump to his defense. My voice was laced with mockery.

"What urgent business couldn't wait? The kind that involved letting her watch me at my most vulnerable, so urgent you couldn't even spare a glance for your own newborn son?"

"Carter, who gave you the right to bring her into the delivery room? And who gave you permission to film any of this?"

My words silenced the room. You could have heard a pin drop.

Carter pressed his lips together, seemingly trying to figure out how to sweet-talk his way out of this one.

It was Sofia who, seeing him silent, pouted with displeasure. Her fingers, tipped with blood-red nails, rested lightly on Carter's arm.

"Sloane, I was the one who filmed it."

Meeting my gaze, she lifted her chin arrogantly. "And don't blame Carter. I was just curious. I had no idea giving birth could be so... spectacular."

"Besides, I just wanted to record this important moment. When the child is older, you'll have something to look back on, right? Making a scene over something so trivial doesn't look good on the Underboss's wife."

I turned my head to look at Carter.

He didn't object. In fact, his expression softened slightly when he heard Sofia defending his honor.

"Curious..."

I savored the word.

"If you're so curious, Sofia, why don't you find a man and have one yourself?"

My voice wasn't loud, and my tone was calm, but the arrogance on Sofia's face instantly cracked.

Carter sighed softly, his tone a gentle reprimand.

"Baby, that's not a nice thing to say."

I watched him quietly, saying nothing.

As he turned to comfort Sofia, I spoke again.

"Oh, I forgot."

"You're just the bastard daughter of some nobody family."

"Even if you wanted to have a child, Carter's father, the Don, would never allow a child with tainted blood through the doors of the Rossi family."

After all, everyone who knew Sofia knew about the sordid things she'd done in her past.

The words were barely out of my mouth when two sounds rang out at once.

"Sloane!"

A sharp smack.

Sofia stood before me, her hand, now lowered, having struck me hard across the face.

Still weak from the C-section, I didn't even have the strength to lift a hand. I took the full force of the slap.

My cheek burned, and the violent jolt sent a fresh wave of agony through the incision in my abdomen.

The pain made my vision go dark, and a cold sweat instantly soaked through my hospital gown.

Sofia glared at me, her chest heaving. "If it weren't for Carter, I'd rip that mouth of yours to shreds! You think you're some high-born princess?"

My face was pale. I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out, my eyes fixed on Carter.

When Sofia had lunged at me, he was right there. I don't believe for a second he couldn't have stopped her.

Unless he never intended to.

Carter looked at the red handprint rapidly forming on my cheek. His body tensed, and he instinctively started to reach for me.

But after seeing Sofia trembling with rage, his hand froze in mid-air.

"Sofia, don't be impulsive."

He sighed and turned back to me, his tone now carrying a hint of weary blame, as if I were the one who had started the trouble.

"Sloane, that was out of line."

"You know how sensitive Sofia is about her background. Why would you provoke her with words like that?"

My heart plummeted. I was out of line?

Compared to the disgusting things he and Sofia had done while I was in excruciating pain, my single, truthful sentence wasn't even a tenth as hurtful.

I had risked my life to give him an heir, and he hadn't even acknowledged the child's cries moments ago.

And now, he was worried that the person who'd just assaulted me had her feelings hurt.

"Carter Rossi."

I took a deep breath, my voice trembling but firm.

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Sloane, you're being way too serious."

Sofia, having composed herself, crossed her arms and cut in with a look of disdain.

"Your body got all misshapen and ugly during the pregnancy, and Carter never said a word. So what if we share a little joy with the family and watch a video of you giving birth?"

"Don't act like some great martyr. We're all family here. It was just a joke."

My body tensed.

"What do you mean? Tell me exactly who else saw the video."

A terrible premonition crept over me.

Sure enough, seeing my reaction, Sofia couldn't help but laugh as she shoved the phone screen in my face.

The group chat was flooded with memes of my face.

The same Capos who usually called me "Mrs. Rossi" with respect were now spewing filth.

"That face, one minute she's grimacing, the next her eyes are rolling back. And she's so red... hard to believe she's giving birth, haha."

"Sofia knows how to have fun, always finds a good time for the boys."

"That screaming... got me hard..."

I closed my eyes. A wave of nausea washed over me, and the pain from my wound was so intense I could barely breathe.

"Carter, explain."

I didn't look at Sofia. My eyes were locked on my husband.

I had originally thought this was just some private, twisted amusement between him and Sofia.

I never imagined he would take screenshots, turn them into animated memes, and send them, along with the video, to the group chat he used with his Capos and Soldatos.

Carter frowned, clearly annoyed by my confrontational tone.

He glanced at the phone, then back at me.

Finally, as if he'd lost all patience for humoring me, he threw his hands up. "Fine, Sloane."

His face was a mask of indifference. "There's nothing to explain. It's just the guys having some fun, livening things up."

"You know my inner circle. It's a joke. Why are you taking it so seriously? You're being a real buzzkill."

My breath caught in my throat.

I looked at the man I had loved for eight years and repeated quietly,

"You call this a joke?"