From Broken Vessel To Mafia Queen

Years ago, I threw myself in front of an assassin's bullet to protect my Mafia boss husband, leaving me nearly infertile.

He knelt in my blood, swearing I would be his only wife.

But tonight, I heard him whisper to his childhood sweetheart in Italian: "My wife is a useless vessel; only you can give the Rossi family an heir."

He thought I couldn't understand him, not knowing I used to work as an Italian translator.

He also had no idea that an eight-week-old miracle was currently growing in my womb.

Julian, you will never see your child.

I no longer want your promises. I no longer want you.

From now on, we will never cross paths again. Adieu, pour toujours.

Chapter 1

I watched my husband, Julian, pour champagne for his childhood sweetheart, hearing him murmur in Italian:

"My wife is a broken vessel, Alessia. You are the only one who can bring a healthy heir to the Rossi family, Alessia."

Alessia rested a slender hand on Julian's chest.

"Julian," Alessia whispered back in Italian, "we shouldn't talk like this. What about Sienna's feelings? She's standing right next to us."

Julian scoffed, his deep eyes sweeping over me as if I were merely a piece of furniture.

"She doesn't understand a word of Italian."

He thought I couldn't understand.

But he had no idea that I used to be an excellent Italian translator.

He also completely failed to realize that an eight-week-old little life was currently causing cramps in my lower abdomen.

Julian Rossi was not just my husband; he was the godfather of the Cosa Nostra, the most powerful Mafia syndicate on the American East Coast.

Before turning twenty-five, he had already painted the streets of Manhattan red with his enemies' blood.

He controlled politicians, judges, and a ruthless army.

His authority made even men of high status bow their heads as he passed by.

Years ago, I had used my eighteen-year-old body to block a bullet aimed at his heart by a rogue soldier.

That trauma severely damaged my uterus, leaving me practically barren.

Julian had knelt in my pool of blood at the hospital, vowing that I would be his only wife.

Now, I stood in the lavish ballroom of the Rossi estate, watching him look at Alessia with an incredibly tender gaze, a gaze that felt like a relic of a long-dead marriage.

Julian turned back to his loyal capos with Alessia, laughing and talking, building a mutual wall between me and them, isolating me in the center of my own home.

Another sharp cramp tore through my abdomen.

I gasped softly, my fingers finding the sleeve of Julian's custom-tailored suit jacket.

"Julian," I whispered, my voice trembling from the physical pain. "I need to go upstairs. I'm not feeling well."

Julian aggressively shook off my hand, his eyes full of cold impatience.

Stunned, I stared at his face, desperately searching for the man who had crowned me his Mafia Queen, the man who had cared for me in every possible way.

All I saw was an arrogant boss who treated me as his burden.

Alessia stepped forward with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Oh, Sienna, I'm so sorry," Alessia said, her eyes wide with a mocking undertone. "We were so caught up reminiscing about the past that we forgot you don't speak Italian. You must feel so left out."

I forced myself to stand up straight, fighting the nauseating pain in my stomach.

"You don't have to apologize, Alessia," I said with a cold smile. "You play the role of the Don's wife quite naturally. Practice makes perfect, right?"

Alessia's lower lip trembled, her eyes filling with carefully orchestrated tears.

She turned to Julian, the expression on her face instantly dissolving before returning to a calm demeanor, speaking in fluent Italian again. "She hates me, Julian. What did I do wrong? I just want to be friends with her."

Julian's face darkened, and the air around us seemed to thin; even the distant chatter of the party seemed to quiet down.

He stepped toward me, using his massive frame to back me against a marble pillar.

"You are petty and mentally unstable, Sienna," Julian snapped harshly. "Your pathetic jealousy is ruining the syndicate's celebration. I truly regret taking you as my wife."

The gilded scrollwork on the ceiling blurred before my eyes.

The pain coiling in my abdomen was nothing compared to the massive, silent emptiness welling up in my chest.

Regret?

He said he regretted it.

"Are you serious?" I asked softly.

Julian looked at me with absolute disgust. "Get out of my sight, or I'll have my soldiers drag you away."

I felt my heart turning colder by the inch.

I stood in the shadowy corner of the sprawling driveway, the cool night breeze doing nothing to ease the burning pain in my stomach.

I watched Julian wrap his large hand around Alessia's waist as they walked out of the ballroom.

The sight of them together completely shattered the last shred of affection in my memory.

My hands trembled as I pulled out my secure burner phone.

I opened a text thread with Lucian, Julian's adopted brother and the syndicate's consigliere.

I typed out an SOS message as the flickering lights on the driveway blurred into streaks, another cramp hitting me hard.

No, I deleted the text. I had to endure this alone. I had to see exactly how far Julian would go.

I was an adult and had to pay the price for my own choices.

Before completely admitting defeat, I didn't want anyone else to see me in such a pathetic state.

The heavy oak doors of the estate swung wide open.

Alessia clung tightly to Julian's arm, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Julian, my penthouse was broken into," Alessia sobbed quietly. "I don't feel safe going anywhere else. Please, let me stay here, under your protection."

Julian didn't hesitate for a second. He nodded, his jaw tight, putting on an air of unquestionable authority.

He looked up and spotted me half-hidden in the shadows.

"Sienna," Julian barked, pointing to the armored SUV parked in the driveway. "Get in the driver's seat. You're driving us to the private quarters. Alessia is staying with us."

"You're bringing her into our private sanctuary?" I was appalled by his audacity.

"Do not question my orders," Julian snapped aggressively, completely ignoring my words. "You are being paranoid, selfish, and bitter. She is in danger."

I took a deep breath, one hand involuntarily coming to rest on my lower abdomen.

"Julian, I have something important to tell you," I began, desperate to reveal my pregnancy, hoping the mention of his miracle child would snap him out of this madness.

"Stop," Julian interrupted roughly. He took a step closer, his shadow looming over me. "I'm sick of your complaining. If you're mad about what I said inside, get over it. I was just joking when I said I regretted marrying you. You're overthinking things."

"Joking?" I repeated, a bitter taste rising in my throat.

"Alessia is pure, and she needs my protection," Julian defended her firmly. "Stop throwing a fit like a crazy woman."

A violent wave of nausea hit me, hot and sudden.

"If she's so pure," I said, "then translate exactly what you were just whispering to her in Italian. Tell me what you said."

Julian's lips formed a tight line.

A flicker of panic crossed his deep eyes, instantly turning into fury.

"I am not indulging your delusions," Julian sneered. "You don't understand mob business anyway. Get in the car."

I didn't move. I stood my ground, facing the most dangerous man in the city.

Then, I spoke in flawless Italian.

"My wife is a cripple, completely useless, Alessia. You are the only one who can bring a healthy heir to the Rossi family."

Julian froze.

A muscle in his jaw twitched violently. The blood instantly drained from his face, his skin pulling taut over his cheekbones.

I repeated every single insulting word he had used.

My pronunciation was impeccable. My tone was entirely lifeless.

Julian stared at me, his face turning deathly pale as realization struck him.

He knew I had heard everything.

I met the Don's deadened eyes.

"I'm tired," I said. "Julian, I want a divorce."

I turned to walk away.

"Sienna, stop right there!"

Julian's roar echoed across the massive stone courtyard.

I heard his heavy footsteps pounding against the pavement behind me, growing closer with every frantic beat of my heart.

His possessiveness had been completely triggered.

A godfather could not tolerate defiance, especially from the woman he considered the pillar of his estate.

I veered off the driveway, my heels clicking sharply against the flagstones leading to the grand marble staircase of the lower gardens.

Before I could take another step, Julian's hand clamped down tightly on my wrist like handcuffs made of flesh and bone.

He yanked me back so hard my teeth rattled.

"You are not leaving me!" Julian growled, his eyes blazing with fury.

His touch sickened me, knowing he had just used that same hand to hold another woman.

I wrenched against his grip, and for a split second, the raw rebellion in my eyes made him hesitate.

His fingers loosened just a fraction in surprise.

That momentary hesitation was all I needed. I seized the opportunity, broke free, raised my free hand, and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

I had done it.

No one else would ever dare do such a thing-openly slapping the Don.

Alessia, who had been following closely behind, suddenly lunged forward.

She threw herself directly in front of Julian, taking a blow that was never meant for her.

In the night air, the sound of my palm striking her cheek was sharp.

Alessia gasped, a sound far too fragile and far too deliberate.

She stumbled backward, clutching her face, then collapsed to the ground and began sobbing dramatically.

"Please!" Alessia cried, throwing herself against Julian's legs.

"Please, stop fighting over me! It's all my fault. I'll leave! Julian, please don't let her hurt you!"

She played the role of the ultimate martyr to perfection.

Julian looked down at his childhood swan, the other woman.

He saw the red marks of my fingers glowing against her pale cheek.

A savage fury blinded him.

He stepped toward me.

He raised his hand, his face twisted into a mask of pure violence, lunging at his own wife.

I braced myself for the impact, stepping backward until my heel met empty air at the edge of the stairs.

Alessia pretended to hold Julian back, but actually grabbed his arm.

Using the chaotic momentum of his lunge, she swung her body weight forward.

Her hands planted firmly on my shoulders.

For someone so frail, she pushed me back with incredible force.

As gravity took over, I caught a glimpse of the wicked, triumphant glint in Alessia's eyes, even if just for a second.

My foot slipped off the edge of the landing.

I fell backward into the open air, a sickening jolt making the world turn upside down.

I tumbled violently down the unforgiving marble staircase.

My body slammed into the stone, again, and again.

A dull impact traveled up my spine, stealing all sound, and the metallic taste of blood filled my throat.

A violent, tearing sensation ripped through my lower abdomen.

It felt like an invisible knife carving me open from the inside out.

I rolled off the bottom of the stairs onto the pathway.

I couldn't breathe, nor could I cry for help. The agonizing pain pinned me down like a heavy boulder.

I lay there, staring up at the pitch-black, starless night sky.

And then, I felt it.

A terrifying, warm, chilling rush of fluid soaked through my custom gown, pooling between my thighs.

I didn't need a doctor to tell me what had happened.

I knew instantly.

My prayed-for miracle, my eight-week-old Rossi heir, was gone.

My vision began to blur, a dark tunnel closing in on my sight.

Just before I plunged completely into darkness, I saw movement at the top of the stairs.

Julian violently shoved Alessia aside.

She hit the ground hard, but he didn't even glance at her, his previous rage vanishing like a phantom.

Julian's face was contorted in primal terror.

He looked like a bystander, his eyes locked not on my face, but on that dark trail of blood.

"Sienna!"

His desperate, broken scream echoed through my fading consciousness as he threw himself down the marble steps toward me.