Where a Traitor's Kingdom Falls

Looking at Brenda's face, pure hatred surged through me. I trembled uncontrollably.

However, Brenda assumed I was trembling with guilt.

She had been startled by my blood-soaked appearance, but now, her voice dripped with a smug, self-righteous tone. "Cut the act, Aurora Valenti."

"Mr. Thorne is with Scarlett right now, and he specifically said no one is to disturb them. He sent me to tell you something."

"Enough is enough. Don't make things any uglier than they already are."

"He said he didn't want to be so heartless, but you're always so jealous, making a huge deal out of nothing, even faking serious injuries. When your child grows up, what will he think when he finds out his mother was a hysterical mess?"

As Brenda finished, the Don's face hardened with murderous intent. Yet, she was blissfully unaware of who he was.

She even pointed at the Don, who hadn't had time to change out of his blood-stained tuxedo, and sneered, "And who's this filthy man, Aurora?"

"Decided your pathetic little act wasn't enough, so you found some cheap gigolo off the street to get a rise out of Julian? God, you have terrible taste."

"What do you think will happen if I tell Julian you're fooling around with this trash while you're pregnant? Do you think he'll throw you into Lake Michigan to feed the fish?"

Then, Brenda let out a triumphant, unhinged laugh, convinced she had seen right through my ruse.

After all, the Don was covered in blood, his clothes disheveled; she never would have connected this man to the powerful figure she imagined.

That's why she assumed the feared and respected Don Castello was nothing more than my lover.

A cold snort cut her laughter short.

Two Soldati immediately stepped forward and forced Brenda to the ground. It wasn't until the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against her forehead that she realized she had offended someone she could never afford to cross.

Just as she was about to beg for mercy, the butt of a pistol smashed into her mouth, and she was dragged out of the room.

"Break her legs and lock her up. Take a picture and send it to Julian," the Don said, his voice glacial. "Tell him to get here himself. I'd like to see what's so important that he would completely ignore Mrs. Valenti."

I immediately noticed the change in how the Don addressed me.

I was no longer "Capo Thorne's wife," but "Mrs. Valenti."

This was the result I wanted.

In the Don's eyes, a line had been drawn. I was his savior, and Julian was a traitor to be disposed of.

It had been an incredibly risky move, but it had paid off.