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The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All Novel Cover

The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All

I stood at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the daughter of New York’s most feared Don, ready to lower myself to marry a common soldier. Then, a toddler in the front pew shrieked, "Daddy." Liam didn't squeeze my hand for reassurance. He dropped it like it was a branding iron. In front of five hundred of the criminal elite, he ran down the aisle, scooping up his secret child and the mistress who had been blackmailing him. He left me standing there, humiliated and alone. Three months later, the "Jilted Princess" title still clung to me. Yet, Liam had the audacity to bring her to my father's birthday gala. Sarah, wearing a dress far too tight and a smug smile, cornered me in the middle of the ballroom. She wanted to twist the knife. "He hates you, you know," she screamed, loud enough for the Dons and Capos to hear. "He says sleeping with you was like sleeping with a statue. He chose real love! He chose a family!" The room went deathly silent. Liam looked at me with pity, thinking he had won. He thought I was broken. He thought I was alone. I took a slow sip of my champagne and set the glass down. "I am not alone, Sarah," I said calmly. I turned toward the shadows near the entrance. "Ethan?" I called out. The crowd parted instantly for the scarred, lethal man who stepped forward—The Ghost of Chicago, the most feared Underboss in Europe. He walked over and wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist. "I’d like you to meet my husband," I told a horrified Liam. "And our daughter is waiting upstairs."
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Chapter 6

Ava Vitiello POV

Liam arrived ten minutes later, looking like a man who had sprinted all the way from midtown.

He wasn't running, strictly speaking. He was walking fast, flanked by Mark, a low-level associate who looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

Chloe was in Liam's arms. Sarah was standing by the perfume counter, sobbing into a tissue that looked suspiciously dry.

I stood my ground. The Patek Philippe weighed heavy in my purse, a cold lump of metal that represented my reclaimed dignity.

Liam saw me. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that comes from fighting a war on two fronts and losing both.

"Ava," he breathed.

He put Chloe down. The child immediately ran to Sarah, burying her face in her mother's skirt.

Sarah pointed a manicured finger at me.

"She stole my watch, Liam! She cut the card! She attacked me!"

It was a performance worthy of Broadway—if Broadway cast actors with zero talent and too much filler in their lips.

I didn't flinch. I watched Liam. I watched him weigh the crying woman against the Vitiello princess standing in front of him.

"I didn't attack her, Liam," I said calmly. "I just revoked her access to my bank account."

Liam ran a hand through his hair. He looked at the crowd gathering near the exits. He looked at the security guards who were watching him closely, knowing he was already on thin ice with the Family.

"Give it back, Ava," he said. His voice was pleading. "Please. Just give it back. I promised her."

"You promised me a lot of things too," I said.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Sarah wailed louder. Chloe started to cry, a high-pitched sound that grated on my nerves. Sarah was pinching the girl's shoulder. I saw it. A subtle dig of nails into soft flesh to provoke a reaction.

Disgust rose in my throat like bile.

"You want the watch?" I asked.

"Yes!" Sarah screamed.

I looked at Liam.

"I'll give you a choice, Liam."

I pulled a folded document from my purse. I had been carrying it for days, waiting for the right moment. It was a transfer of ownership form for his ten percent tribute shares in the waterfront construction racket. It was his only remaining steady income.

"Sign this," I said. "Sign over your points to me. And she can keep the watch."

Sarah stopped crying instantly. Her eyes darted between the paper and the purse.

"No!" she shrieked. "Liam, no! That's our money!"

Liam looked at the paper. He knew what those points meant. They were his status. They were his retirement.

He looked at Sarah. He looked at the tears streaming down her face, the way she clutched the child like a shield.

He looked at me. He saw the ice in my eyes. He saw that I was not bluffing.

"If I walk out of here with this watch, Liam, I sell it and donate the money to a cat shelter," I said. "And then I call my father and tell him you're harassing me in public."

He flinched.

Sarah grabbed his arm.

"Don't you dare, Liam! That watch is worth five thousand! The shares are worth millions over time!"

She was doing the math. She was always doing the math.

Liam pulled his arm away from her. He looked defeated. He looked like a man who just wanted the screaming to stop.

"Give me the pen," he whispered.

"Liam!" Sarah screamed.

"Shut up, Sarah!" he roared.

The store went silent. Chloe hiccuped.

Liam took the pen from my hand. He didn't read the document. He pressed the paper against the glass countertop and signed his name.

He signed away his future for a moment of peace.

He handed the paper back to me. His hand was shaking.

"Give her the watch," he said. His voice was dead.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the watch. I tossed it onto the counter.

Sarah lunged for it like a starving dog. She didn't check on Liam. She didn't check on Chloe. She checked the watch face for scratches.

I folded the document and put it in my bag.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Soldato," I said.

I turned and walked away. I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I knew exactly what I was leaving behind. A man who had just sold his crown for a piece of costume jewelry.

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