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She Cheated With A Pawn: The King's Wrath Novel Cover

She Cheated With A Pawn: The King's Wrath

My wife, Elena, walked into the Grand Boardroom and placed a possessive hand on her lover's chest. Julian, a low-level associate I’d only hired as a favor to her, sat in my chair with his muddy boots on the polished mahogany table. He blew smoke in my face and laughed. "You're just a figurehead now, Dante. The Syndicate belongs to Elena. And since I'm the one keeping her happy at night, it belongs to me too." Elena looked at me with cold eyes, delivering the ultimate betrayal without a shred of remorse. "I'm pregnant, Dante. It's Julian's. We need the Moretti name for the baby, so sign the transfer papers and leave." She believed the power of attorney documents I signed while delirious with fever had given her my empire. She thought the mercenaries standing behind her were loyal to her checkbook. She truly believed she could fire a Don like a mid-level manager caught stealing office supplies. But she didn't know that in our world, loyalty isn't bought with stolen money. And she certainly didn't know what was actually in the leather folder she was holding. I looked at the traitor and the rat, feeling a strange, lethal sense of calm. "You want to talk about papers?" I tossed the real file onto the table, watching their smiles falter. "You didn't sign a transfer of power, Elena. You signed a Renunciation of Protection." I signaled my Enforcers, and the room exploded into motion. "Now," I said, staring at Julian's terrified face. "Let's see how much the streets respect you without my name."
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Chapter 5

Dante Moretti POV

"Get him out of here!" Julian screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria. "He threatened us! Enforcers! Throw him out!"

He pointed a trembling finger at the men standing by the door. The Enforcers. My personal guard. Men who had stood immobile as stone this entire time.

"Strip him!" Julian ordered, spittle flying from his lips. "Beat him until he can't walk! Show him who runs this city!"

The Enforcers didn't twitch.

"What are you doing?" Elena screamed at them, stepping forward. "I pay your salaries! I am your Queen! Obey him!"

The head Enforcer, a giant of a man named Luca, slowly turned his head. He looked at Julian, his expression blank.

Then he looked at Elena.

Finally, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

I lifted my right hand and calmly adjusted my cufflink. It was a small, subtle movement.

In an instant, the room exploded into motion.

Luca and the other Enforcers drew their weapons with terrifying speed. But they didn't aim at me.

They leveled their barrels at the mercenaries.

"Drop them!" Luca roared, the sound shaking the walls.

The mercenaries, realizing instantly that they were outgunned and outclassed by men who killed for a living, dropped their guns. Clatter after clatter echoed on the floor. They raised their hands, eyes wide with terror.

"What is this?" Julian stammered, backing away until he hit the table. "Elena! Do something!"

Elena stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock. "But... I signed the checks. I fired the old staff."

"You fired the staff on paper," I said, walking slowly around the table toward them. The sound of my footsteps was the only noise in the room.

"But loyalty isn't a contract, Elena. It's a bond. These men swore an oath to the Don. You cannot buy loyalty with stolen money."

I stopped directly in front of Julian. He was trembling violently. The arrogance was gone, replaced by the pathetic, primal fear of a coward.

"You wanted to sit at the head of the table," I said softly.

I punched him.

It wasn't a warning shot. It was a piston of rage driving straight into his face. I felt the cartilage of his nose crunch under my knuckles. Blood sprayed in a fine mist across Elena's pristine white dress.

Julian collapsed to the floor, screaming and clutching his ruined face.

"Dante!" Elena shrieked, trying to kneel beside him. "Stop! You're hurting him!"

I grabbed Julian by the collar and hauled him up. He was dead weight, sobbing through a mouthful of blood and broken teeth.

"You wanted to run the streets?" I asked him, forcing him to look at me. "This is the street, Julian. It's blood and bone. It's not suits and cigarettes."

I threw him toward the Enforcers like a sack of trash. "Hold him."

Luca grabbed Julian, pinning his arms painfully behind his back. Julian kicked and cried, begging Elena to save him.

Elena lunged at me, hammering her fists against my chest in a futile temper tantrum.

"You monster!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "He's the father of my child! You can't do this!"

I caught her wrists mid-air. It required no effort. She was so weak. I had made her strong, or so I thought. But without my protection, she was nothing.

"You want to talk about papers?" I asked, pulling a folded document from the inside pocket of my jacket.

I tossed it onto the table. It wasn't the transfer agreement she thought she held.

"Read it," I commanded.

Elena looked at the paper. Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely smooth it out.

"This... this isn't the transfer," she whispered, the color draining from her face.

"No," I said coldly. "I swapped the files in your safe three days ago. You thought you were tricking me into signing away my empire. What you actually signed, and what I signed, is a Renunciation of Protection and Assets."

I leaned in close, my voice a cold whisper against her ear.

"You are not Elena Moretti anymore. You are Elena Nothing. You have no money. You have no house. And you have no husband."

I stepped back, looking at the two of them with pure disgust. The traitor and the rat.

"You wanted to be independent," I said. "Congratulations. You're on your own."

I turned to my men. "Throw them out."

"Wait!" Julian gurgled, blood bubbling from his split lips. "The baby! She's pregnant!"

I stopped. Slowly, I looked at Elena's stomach.

"If that child is born," I said, my voice devoid of mercy, "pray it doesn't look like you. Because if it does, it will learn that in my city, treason is paid for in suffering."

I turned my back on them, straightening my jacket.

"Get them out of my sight."

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