THE MAFIA BOSS DISCOVERED HIS FIANCÉE’S SICK SECRET—NOW HE’S MAKING HER PAY AND TURNING THE MAID INTO HIS QUEEN

One week before the wedding, Daniel entered Luca’s study with an urgent security update from the Illinois Department of Corrections.

"Boss," Daniel said, his expression serious. "Salvatore Bellini suffered a massive stroke in his holding cell at Menard Correctional yesterday. He passed away at four this morning."

Luca looked up from his paperwork, his expression neutral. "And Vanessa?"

"She was informed this morning. According to the prison warden, she had a complete psychological breakdown and has been transferred to the psychiatric evaluation unit under twenty-four-hour suicide watch."

Luca was silent for a moment. He closed the ledger on his desk.

"Ensure the Bellini family debts to the municipal pension fund are settled out of our private charitable reserve," Luca instructed. "The innocent workers who lost their pensions because of Salvatore's embezzlement shouldn't suffer for his crimes."

"Right away, boss."

Daniel turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Boss... there's one more thing. Vanessa signed a formal waiver of her legal rights to the Bellini family vault in Geneva. She left a sealed letter addressed to Emma."

Luca’s eyes narrowed. "Did the bomb squad clear it?"

"Twice. It’s just paper."

Daniel handed Luca a plain white envelope.

Luca inspected it carefully, then called me into the study.

Together, we opened the letter.

Written in shaky, uneven handwriting that was a far cry from her once-flawless calligraphy, Vanessa’s final words read:

Emma,

I hated you because when I looked at you, I saw everything I could never be. You had nothing, yet Luca looked at you with respect. I had everything, yet he looked through me like glass.

I thought power was about making people fear you. I thought destroying what he loved would make him submit to me. I was a fool.

You won. Keep the dog. Keep the diamonds. Keep the man.

May you live with the ghost of what you took from me.

Vanessa.

I stared at the letter for a long moment. There was no anger left in my heart—only a profound, quiet pity for a woman who had destroyed her entire life because her heart was filled with venom and vanity.

I walked over to the fireplace and gently tossed the letter into the crackling flames.

We watched the paper curl into black ash, rising up the chimney and vanishing into the clear blue sky.

"It's over," I said softly, turning back to Luca.