Reclaiming The Crown From My Ex-Husband

Serena's POV:

The corporate headquarters of the Vitiello family towered into the clouds; it was the place we used to launder our blood and wealth.

The next morning, I walked through the glass doors of the executive floor. Even though my throat still stung from last night's allergic reaction, I kept my spine straight like a queen.

Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks.

A young woman in a fiery red dress was sitting on the polished granite reception desk, flirting and laughing with two family guards.

What was even more blinding was that on the index finger of her right hand, she wore that heavy Vitiello family signet ring.

I approached the front desk. The two guards immediately fell silent and stood at attention, resuming a posture of absolute obedience.

"Take the ring off," I spoke coldly, my voice echoing in the lobby.

The girl looked up and sized me up without a trace of fear, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You must be Serena. Sal said you were a bitch. I'm Chiara."

I didn't even look at her, giving a direct order to the guards. "Take her ring off and throw her off Vitiello territory. If she dares to take another step into New York, shoot her on sight."

The guards' loyalty to the family bloodline was carved into their bones. Without any hesitation, they stepped forward expressionlessly to grab Chiara.

However, before they could touch her, the oak doors of the conference room were shoved open violently. Salvatore strode out, furious.

"No one touches her!" he barked at the guards, stepping in front of Chiara to shield her from me. The guards froze and stepped back, dropping their hands.

"Salvatore," I said coldly. "She is wearing my ring. She is an outsider trespassing in a restricted area. She has to leave."

"She stays." Salvatore growled, stepping closer. "She makes me more money in one night than you do sitting in the penthouse for a year."

"You broke the family rules," I refused to yield an inch. "You broke Omertà, bringing an outsider into the family's sanctuary."

"I am the rules now!" Salvatore roared.

Before his voice even faded, he suddenly raised his hand. A gust of wind brushed past, and a piercing ringing exploded in my ear.

That slap sent me flying to the ground, my temple striking the cold marble heavily with a dull thud.

The lobby went dead silent. The guards stared fixedly at the floor. A reigning boss laying a hand on the granddaughter of the family patriarch in public was an absolute taboo.

My cheek burned fiercely, and my mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood. I didn't get up immediately; I just looked up at the man I had married. At this moment, in my heart, he had completely become a stranger.

"Oh my god, Sal, she almost attacked me just now!" Chiara suddenly pretended to limp back against the reception desk, letting out a delicate whimper.

Salvatore didn't look at me again. He immediately turned to Chiara, his cold face instantly softening as he scooped her up into his arms.

"I'll take you to see a doctor," he coaxed softly.

He carried her straight into the private elevator. He never looked back, not even as the steel doors slid completely shut.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and slowly pushed myself up from the floor. The guards still had their heads bowed—their former loyalty to the family had clearly been bought off by Salvatore's money.

The phone in my pocket vibrated. I took it out; it was a multimedia message from an unknown number. The photo was of Salvatore carrying Chiara into the elevator from behind.

The caption read: "The boss doesn't need a caged bird; he needs a true queen."

I stared at the screen, and the last shred of affection I had for Salvatore died instantly, leaving behind nothing but a cold, hard void.

I looked around the lobby my grandfather had built. He stole my empire and betrayed me. I would make him pay!