The Civilian Bride Is The Underworld Boss

Sera POV

The vertebrae in my neck gave a dull crack from the velocity of the turn, and the resulting splash of water struck my eyelashes, momentarily blurring my vision.

I demanded the truth, my voice fracturing as I asked him what his soldier meant about our union.

Cassius remained indolently propped against the doorframe, a cruel, unfamiliar smirk deliberately taking shape on his lips.

He admitted it openly, that our entire marriage was a fabrication.

He explained in a slow, condescending drawl that a civilian with no mafia bloodline could never occupy the seat beside him.

He said I was only ever meant to be a pretty distraction, a creature kept in a gilded cage to keep his bed warm.

The consigliere standing next to Cassius added his voice to the chorus, his tone thick with a sycophantic pride.

He declared that Bianca Falcone was the true, rightful future Donna of the Vitiello family.

Thrusting out his chest, he boasted that their real marriage would seal an ironclad alliance between the two most powerful syndicates on the East Coast.

My mind went quiet and empty.

I stared at the man I had loved-the same man for whom I had expended every resource, every hidden connection, and every ounce of my tactical intellect to keep alive during the bloody succession wars.

Through a sharp ringing that had begun in my ears, I asked him if he had used my devotion only to secure his seat as the heir, to then cast me aside the moment I had outlived my usefulness.

Cassius looked at me as if I were a dull-witted child.

Without a flicker of remorse in his expression, he said yes.

I lowered my head.

A dark, chilling laugh forced its way from my mouth. As it did, the men's faces distorted in the steam, becoming grotesque caricatures from a silent film, and the only sound left in my ears was a high, piercing whine.

I unlocked the screen of my phone, keeping the device submerged just beneath the surface of the water where the leering men could not see. My wet thumb hovered over the glass as I prepared to make the call that would summon my real muscle and burn this entire compound to the ground.

But as the last of the foam shifted, it revealed the motion of my hand. Bianca lunged forward.

She snatched the phone from my wet fingers, her eyes glinting with venom as she branded me a pathetic mistress attempting to steal a made man from his rightful place.

She stood tall, preening in her perceived dominance.

With a smile of sickening sweetness, she generously offered to let me remain in the estate as Cassius's temporary whore.

She degraded me further, saying that a woman of my low station was meant to be passed among the soldiers in any case.

My face felt as if it had been carved from stone.

Bianca continued her relentless mockery, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the bathwater and announcing with glee that the concealing bubbles were almost entirely gone.

As if summoned by the rot of the place, two more large cockroaches dropped from a crack in the bathroom ceiling.

They landed with a soft, obscene splash in the water near my stomach.

A scream tore itself from my throat.

I scrambled backward until my spine struck the cold porcelain with a jarring impact.

My throat felt raw, burning with unshed tears and a rising panic.

I made one final, desperate plea to Cassius.

I begged him to clear the room, to just hand me a robe so I could leave with what little remained of my dignity.

- Cassius blatantly ignored my distress.

His jaw tightened. He snapped that I should consider it an honor to breathe the same air as him, let alone be his mistress.

The sound of my scream seemed to flip a switch in the men crowding the hallway.

The gathered associates grew more feral.

Their predatory taunts escalated from crude jokes into open threats of physical violence, and they began to press forward as the last of the foam dissolved into nothing.