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The Mafia Wife's Wicked Payback Novel Cover

The Mafia Wife's Wicked Payback

After investing a fortune into a Sicilian getaway, a mafia wife is discarded by her husband, Dante, in favor of his old flame, Chiara. Forced to travel alone through a deadly rival zone where associates frequently vanish, she realizes the famiglia views her life as expendable. Instead of following orders, she disappears to Monaco to live lavishly while ignoring their desperate calls. As she thrives in exile, the organization that betrayed her begins to crumble from within.
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Chapter 3

Monaco was everything New York wasn't: clean, blindingly sunny, and quiet—a dangerous kind of quiet.

The penthouse suite at the Fairmont was already furnished with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the azure water, but what interested me more was the security detail. The Giordano famiglia didn't do anything by halves. Two Soldato in impeccably tailored suits stood sentry outside my door, courtesy of their Donna.

I set up my mobile office, three monitors humming with financial data. The Bellini accounts were still frozen, sending ripples through Dante's operations. His Capos were scrambling to cover costs, and the Soldati were getting restless. Debt was a tool; panic was a weapon.

My laptop chimed. It was an encrypted message from the Giordano Donna, Seraphina.

: A pleasure to host you, Viola. Dinner tonight? We have much to discuss about 'tributes' and 'safe passage'.

I smiled. Seraphina Giordano was not a sentimental woman. She saw an opportunity, and I was giving her the blade to use it.

Dinner was held in a private salon overlooking the Grand Prix track. Seraphina was a masterpiece of control: black silk suit, blood-red lipstick, and eyes that missed nothing.

"Dante called me," Seraphina said, not wasting time on pleasantries as she poured a deep, rich Sassicaia. "He was... desperate. Accused you of theft."

I shrugged, sipping my wine. "I was his banker, Seraphina. You don't steal what you own. He gave me a simple choice: my life or his comfort. I chose wisely."

"You froze his operating cash. That's a bold move, even for a Bellini wife."

"Ex-wife, I suspect," I corrected. "And it's a strategic move. He needs liquidity to secure his Sicilian supply routes. Without it, he's exposed."

Seraphina leaned forward, her elbows on the table. "You negotiated the truce with us, Viola. You paid us well. But now you're here. What do you want from the Giordano famiglia? Protection comes at a price."

"I want two things," I stated, setting down my glass. "First, I want your explicit guarantee of protection within your territory—physical and legal. Second, I want to manage a percentage of your overseas assets. My legitimate businesses are a perfect, clean funnel."

"You want to profit from your own divorce?" Seraphina raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"No. I want to be an independent Donna. Dante taught me that relying on a man for safety is fatal. The Giordano famiglia gets a reliable, clean, and financially brilliant partner who has just crippled their New York rival."

Seraphina smiled, a genuinely terrifying expression. "I like your style, Viola. You take a quarter-million-dollar vacation and turn it into a coup d'état. The Giordano famiglia is open for business."

She raised her glass. "To the bleeding of the Bellinis."

We clinked glasses. The wine tasted like victory.