Omertà of the HeartChapter 1
On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband, Dominic Valente, brought his pregnant mistress home to the compound.
With a voice as flat and measured as if he were reading terms at a sit-down, he laid out a few instructions.
"Daniela is particular about what she eats. From now on, every meal is to be different. See to it."
"She's fragile and can't sleep alone, so pack your things and move to the guest room at the end of the hall."
Without bothering to respond, I picked up the suitcase I had already prepared and walked calmly toward the door.
The housekeeper tried to stop me, but Dominic let out a cold laugh.
"Let her throw her little tantrum. She'll come crawling back in less than three days anyway."
The moment he said it, the room erupted in laughter. His soldiers by the foyer, the housekeeper, even the courier who'd driven Daniela in from the city.
Right in front of me, they placed a two-million-dollar bet. Two million in cash, counted out on the marble table in the entrance hall, wagering I wouldn't even make it through the night before begging Dominic to let me back in like a pathetic little lapdog.
But what they didn't know was that a black Maybach was already idling beyond the estate gates, headlights dark, engine running.
This time, I was truly leaving.
——
Just as I stepped past the heavy iron doors of the compound, Dominic called out behind me.
"Seraphina. Leave the safety bracelet. Daniela's been having nightmares lately, and she needs it more than you do."
My body went stiff.
That bracelet was the only thing my parents left me. The last piece of the Rossetti name that hadn't been bartered away, sold off, or absorbed into someone else's empire.
As I faced him, Dominic saw the redness in my eyes but remained indifferent. He stood in the doorway with one hand in his pocket, the silver lighter turning slowly between the fingers of the other.
"Name your price," he said.
How much could nine years of groveling in a loveless, blood-bound marriage possibly be worth?
I didn't bother calculating.
All I could remember was what happened the last time I refused to give Daniela something she wanted. My ski goggles, of all things. Dominic had stripped me bare and left me alone on the mountainside in the freezing cold, then taken the gondola down with her while his soldiers watched from the lodge and did nothing.