My Mafia Husband's Photo Game

My hand trembled as I pointed to the most vicious comment on the phone screen.

Someone had even put a screenshot of my face during labor next to a photo of one of the family's enemies moments before their execution.

"Carter, that is your wife, the mother of your son. You let other men use my most vulnerable moment for their entertainment, for their humiliation, and you think it's just a joke?"

Carter's brow furrowed in annoyance as he took the phone from Sofia.

He casually sent an "Alright, don't take it too far" sticker into the group chat, then turned back to me.

"That's enough, Sloane. Don't be so dramatic."

"You gave me an heir. I'm happy, and I wanted to share the joy with my men. If you don't like it, don't look. Now be good."

I went rigid, unable to believe those words had come from his mouth.

But then I realized, perhaps I had never truly known him at all.

The affection I thought I saw was just the cheapest kind of mask, hiding the callous playboy underneath.

The thought that I had spent five years of my life with a man who would so casually expose my privacy to others sent a chill down my spine.

Looking at his face now, I couldn't help it. I leaned over the side of the bed and gagged.

"Is there..."

I gasped for air, unable to suppress the sickening feeling of humiliation rising in my chest.

"have you sent out anything else?"

Carter raised an eyebrow, seeming to give the question serious thought. He was silent for a few seconds.

"No. I promise."

I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking he had at least retained some final shred of decency as a husband.

But then he continued, "I wanted to, though."

"But back then, we were just married, and we didn't have a child yet. How could I bear to show you off to others? "

"If I did that, what if the financial genius I worked so hard to woo decided to leave me?"

"You're disgusting!"

I was shaking with rage, my hands, braced against the bed, trembling uncontrollably.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, and finally, unable to stop myself, I used every last bit of strength I had to swing my hand at Carter's face.

He saw it coming, catching my wrist in mid-air with ease.

"Shhh, Sloane."

He tightened his grip, his thumb tracing my pulse point as a smirk played on his lips. "No violence now. You just gave birth. Save your strength."

I struggled pathetically, but he held me fast.

Just then, the hospital room door swung open.

Several of Carter's Capos swaggered in, laughing, carrying expensive cigars and bottles of red wine.

They walked right past my bed and piled their gifts in Sofia's arms.

"Hey Sofia, heard you were the one who captured the sacred moment! We came to see the little boss!"

"Boss, c'mon, let us see if the kid's got the right equipment."

One of them, a brutish man with a fleshy face, was the same one who had bet in the group chat that I would have a girl.

As I watched Sofia preen and lead them toward the bassinet, alarm bells screamed in my head.

"Carter."

With my wrist still in his grip, I could only turn a pleading gaze to him.

Carter paused. Seeing my pale face and disheveled hair, a flicker of pity crossed his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice softening.

"Make them leave. Please. The baby just fell asleep. Don't let them near him."

At my words, the warmth that had just entered Carter's tone instantly vanished.

"Sloane, they came to see the baby out of kindness. Why do you always have to be so judgmental?"

"They mean no harm. Relax."

"Sigh, Sofia's right. You women are all the same, so high-strung, petty, and always keeping score."

My nails dug into my palm. I fought through the pain, about to say more.

But over by the bassinet, the drunk Capo was already leaning over.

"Well now, the little guy's sleeping soundly."

He pulled a freshly cut, thick cigar from his pocket and grinned, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Here, let your uncle give you a proper baptism. This is what a real man smells like."

As he spoke, the hand holding the stinking cigar moved toward my newborn son's mouth.

His other filthy hand was even reaching to undo the baby's swaddle, to touch his body.

I screamed. A mother's instinct took over.

I lunged, sinking my teeth hard into the soft flesh of his hand between the thumb and forefinger.

The taste of his blood filled my mouth.

Carter yelped in pain, his grip instinctively loosening.

Ignoring the tearing agony in my own wound, I threw myself forward like a madwoman, using my body to block the space between that filthy hand and the bassinet.

"Get away! Don't touch him!"

Tears I could no longer hold back streamed down my face as I looked at my son's peaceful, sleeping face.

The violent movement tore my incision open. Bright red blood bloomed across my white hospital gown, spreading in an alarming stain over my abdomen.

The searing pain nearly made me pass out, but I held my ground, shielding my son with everything I had.

"All of you, get out!"

The men looked to Carter. They had always looked down on me, so they paid my order no mind.

Carter clutched his bleeding hand, his expression dark.

But when his eyes landed on the blood spreading across my stomach, he finally frowned and waved the others away.

"Alright, everyone out."

Once the room was empty, even Sofia had retreated sullenly to the doorway.

Carter looked at me, and there seemed to be some heartache in his eyes.

"I'll go get a doctor right now. Hang in there, baby."

As I watched his retreating back, I took a ragged breath, wiped a tear from my eye, and said in a cold voice, "All of you, just wait. You will pay for this."