The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Comeback

Sienna POV

I stepped out of my car. The solid thud of the door closing echoed across the quiet courtyard, a sound sharp enough to make them jump apart.

Julian turned around. Panic flashed in his darkened eyes for a fraction of a second before his face hardened into his usual mask of arrogance.

At his side, Mia straightened her skirt, regarding me with a brazen smirk.

"Sienna," Mia said, her voice a confection of false sweetness. "Forgive me. We were just confirming some last-minute travel details. I did not expect you home so early."

I walk slowly toward them, the gravel of the driveway shifting and grinding beneath my heels.

My mind flashed back to two years ago.

I remember finding her cheap perfume bottle in my guest bathroom. I remember the humiliation, a hot, metallic taste in my throat, when I realized my husband had brought a low-level associate into our sanctuary.

I look at Julian.

I remember him standing before the Syndicate Boss on our wedding day.

I remember the glint of the ceremonial knife as it sliced his palm, his blood dripping onto the sacred icon of the saint as he swore to honor our union or burn in hell.

His vows were nothing but ash.

I turn my frigid gaze to Mia.

"You require no apology for performing your duties, Associate," I said, making sure to emphasize her low rank. "But you should remember your place. You are standing on my property."

Mia's smirk faltered, and her arms crossed over her chest in a gesture of weak defense.

"You are merely jealous that he prefers my company," she spat.

Julian stepped forward and grabbed my upper arm, his grip a sudden, bruising vise.

He pulled me without ceremony toward the front door.

"Go home, Mia," he barked over his shoulder.

I did not fight his grip. I let him drag me into the cavernous foyer and down the hall toward the master suite.

He pushed me into the massive walk-in vault where we kept the family cash and jewelry.

"What is the matter with you?" Julian hissed, pacing the length of the room like a trapped wolf in front of the safe. "You disrespect me before my own people. You behave like a shrew."

I lean my shoulders against the cold, dense metal of the vault door.

"You brought her to my home, Julian. You dishonor the Family's traditions for all to see."

Julian stopped pacing.

He stepped right into my space, raising a hand as if to grab my face.

His movement halted. His eyes dropped to my hands, which were clasped loosely before me.

He froze.

His mouth opened slightly.

"Where is your ring?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, guttural octave.

It is a fatal sign in our world. A Capo's wife without her ring is a wife in open rebellion.

"I left it on your bathroom sink," I said calmly.

Julian spun around and tore open the velvet jewelry boxes lined up on the glass counter.

He threw diamond necklaces and gold watches onto the floor, the gems scattering like chips of ice across the tiles.

He wrenched out every drawer.

"Where is the diamond, Sienna?" he yelled, his face flushing a dark, mottled red.

I watched him destroy the room.

"Where is your ring, Julian?" I asked, my voice no louder than a breath.

He froze in the middle of his rampage.

With a slowness that was terrible to watch, he looked down at his own left hand.

His ring finger was completely bare.

He took it off before he touched her.

The silence that followed was louder than any explosion. For a single, crystalline moment, Julian saw himself through my eyes—and what he saw was a man who had broken every oath he had ever sworn.