The Jilted Mafia Bride And Her Rise

Vivienne POV

I stepped out of the syndicate safehouse just as the sky tore open, releasing a torrential downpour.

The sky was a bruised shade of black. Cold rain struck the pavement in heavy sheets. I took what little shelter I could find under the awning's narrow lip, clutching the transfer documents against my chest.

Through the dense curtain of rain, I saw a familiar figure approaching with a purpose in his stride. It was Christian, shielded by a large black umbrella.

My chest tightened with a foolish jolt of hope. I instinctively shifted my weight, preparing to step toward him.

But before I could take a step, a petite figure darted out from the side door of the safehouse. It was Lilith.

She claimed the dry space under Christian's umbrella first, pressing her body against his side without a hint of hesitation. Christian did not flinch or push her away. Instead, he made a subtle motion to adjust the umbrella, covering her completely, while the gaze he turned on me was one of devastating indifference.

"Do you want to join us?" Christian asked me, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. "Lilith invited me to her apartment for a sit-down dinner."

I stared at the two of them, the image searing itself into my mind. Slowly, I shook my head. "I refuse."

My mind returned to the Family gathering an hour ago. Christian had barely touched his food at the banquet. Now I understood: he had been saving his appetite for a private dinner with her.

Lilith gave a soft, theatrical gasp. She feigned surprise, acting as if she had only just noticed me standing in the shadows of the doorway.

"Christian, the rain is so heavy," Lilith murmured, looking up at him through her lashes with wide, innocent eyes. "We can reschedule our dinner. You should really escort Vivi home first."

She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering for theatrical effect. "I can just wait out the storm alone," she claimed.

She played the helpless martyr to perfection. Her submissive act struck a chord of protective pity in Christian's ego.

"I couldn't possibly do that," Christian told her, and his tone was firm and unwavering. "I am a man of my word. In this life, when I make a promise, I keep it."

Lilith stole a fleeting, triumphant glance at me. "But what should Vivi do then?" she asked softly.

Christian at last looked at me. Without a word of warning, he tossed the large black umbrella directly at me.

I fumbled with it, my fingers closing on the handle. Leaving himself exposed to the storm, Christian grabbed Lilith by the hand. "Let's go," he said to her.

Together, they ran into the pouring rain. Lilith let out a loud, ringing laugh that cut through the night. A second later, Christian laughed with her. Their shared laughter echoed, somehow louder and more deafening than the torrential storm.

Rainwater dripped from the hem of my coat, and the cold seeped through the thin leather of my shoes, pinning my feet to the wet asphalt.

Then, I was struck by a memory so violent it stole the breath from my lungs. On a rainy day four years ago, Christian had said those very same words to me. He had pulled me into the rain, and we had run and laughed together, just like that.

My fingers trembled against the cold handle of the umbrella. Slowly, with the movements of a machine, I opened it and stepped out into the storm.

I walked toward our penthouse alone, my head bowed against the biting wind.

The rain masked the sound of my footsteps. It also masked the sound of my phone vibrating with another alert—Lilith had posted a new photo to the Family network. I would not see it until I was standing in our empty bedroom, soaked to the bone and utterly alone.

I walked into the empty, silent penthouse and stripped off my damp clothes.

After washing the chill from my skin in a scalding shower, I checked my secured phone. There were no messages from Christian.

With a frown, I opened the Family's encrypted social channel. The first thing to load was a new post from Lilith.

"When you are with someone who truly protects you, you do not fear the storm," the caption read.

An Associate had commented below. "Who is your new protector?" the Associate asked.

Lilith had replied a minute later. "Hehe, cy."

I stared without expression at the screen. Cy. Christian.

A wave of bitter realization washed over me. If they were willing to run through the storm together, how could it be anything but love?

I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

Christian did not return to the penthouse until eleven at night, breaking the unspoken rule we had set years ago. We always returned before ten for security reasons.

I heard the heavy front door open and close. A moment later, Christian walked into the bedroom. He had changed into a perfectly tailored new shirt, but the scent hit me instantly. He smelled strongly of cheap motel soap rather than his usual expensive cologne.

My vision blurred for a second. I took a deep breath to steady my heart, which had begun to race, then picked up the transfer documents from the nightstand. I held them out to Christian.

"The Consigliere wants you to reconsider this rare opportunity," I told him evenly.

In the next second, Christian snatched the documents from my hands and tore them to shreds with a violent motion. The ruined pieces fluttered to the hardwood floor.

I stood frozen, unable to comprehend his volatile reaction.

Christian glared at me, his eyes blazing with a strange fury. "Why are you targeting Lilith?" he demanded loudly. "Why are you whispering poison into the Consigliere's ear? You know how hard she is trying to survive."

He stepped closer, his chest heaving with a misplaced, righteous anger. "Do you get a sick thrill out of bullying an orphaned girl?"

I looked at him in bafflement. "Show me proof that I ever targeted Lilith," I countered, my voice eerily calm. "Show me proof that I broke Omertà to speak ill of her. I have never done such a thing."

Christian scoffed coldly. "Do I need proof?" he snapped. "The ledgers Lilith handed to the Consigliere were rejected. She was severely reprimanded, and you were the only one in his office at the time. If it was not you sabotaging her, who else could it be?"

My lips parted and closed, but no sound came out; I almost wanted to laugh. The endless arguments I had prepared died in my throat. Those ledgers were doctored under his direct supervision. Of course the Consigliere saw right through them.

"Go to the Consigliere tomorrow," Christian ordered me, and his tone left no room for argument. "Clear Lilith's name and force the approval of her route."

I took a very slow, deep breath. "After four years together in this life, do you still not know my character?" I asked him.

Everyone in the Family knew I despised backdoor politics. I always helped our own. Christian himself had his financial plans rejected seven times before I fixed them for him line by line.

Christian fell silent for a moment, his pride refusing to yield. "People change in this life," he stated stubbornly.

I narrowed my eyes. "So, that applies to you too, right?" I retorted, my gaze pointedly on his unfamiliar shirt.

Like a man whose fatal weakness had been exposed, Christian flew into a rage. "Vivienne!" he shouted. "You have become arrogant and unreasonable. It is because I have always been too gentle and accommodating with you."

Without another word, he turned and stormed off into the study, slamming the door behind him with a sound that shook the walls.

I stood alone in the sprawling bedroom.

My mind flashed back to my junior year in the Family. A moment of reckless passion had led to me becoming pregnant, and I had desperately wanted to keep the child. But Christian had manipulated me into terminating it. He claimed a child would ruin his chances of making Capo, insisting it would make us vulnerable to rival hits.

I remembered him holding my cold hand in the sterile clinic. "I am sorry," he had sworn to me then, his eyes brimming with a sincerity I now knew to be false. "It is my fault you have to suffer."

He had made a blood oath right there in the clinic. "Never again. I will never let you suffer or be wronged. No matter what happens, your safety and feelings come first. I swear on my life I will never break your heart."

I looked down at the shredded papers on the floor. Today, he had broken me multiple times. His sacred vow, which I had held as a relic, now seemed like a sick joke.

I realized with clarity that I was a fool to believe him. I had sacrificed our child for his ambition, and he had repaid me by giving another woman everything I had ever asked of him.

Just then, my phone suddenly lit up on the nightstand with a message—one that would seal his fate forever.