My Mafia Husband

Chapter 1

In Dallas, Texas, Diego anxiously waited at 9:45 AM for his wife and children to arrive. Diego, a self-made billionaire, was known for his pride and ruthlessness. Despite his wealth, he never left a penny for his wife, Vivian, before heading to work. Vivian, beautiful and dedicated, rarely changed her clothes because Diego neglected her needs.

Diego treated Vivian not as a partner but as a servant, yet she remained deeply in love with him. Her affection for Diego was strong, despite his cruelty. However, something had changed recently, and Diego found himself barely thinking of his once adored wife.

Vivian, a housewife, spent her days at home. She had often wanted to work, to find some purpose outside of her household duties. But every time she mentioned this to Diego, he would dismiss her harshly, sometimes even resorting to physical violence. Vivian, heartbroken and confused, often found herself talking to the walls.

"Could this be Diego? Is this really him? Why is he so heartless? Why is he treating me like this?" she would mutter to herself, lost in thought.

One such day, as she was deep in her thoughts, Vivian forgot she had something cooking on the stove. The smell of burning food jolted her back to reality, and she rushed to the kitchen. But it was too late; the food was burnt. Frustrated and tired of her life, she let out a scream of anger.

Meanwhile, Diego was at his company, preparing for its 28th anniversary. It was midnight when he finally left the office, exhausted and worn out. He arrived home around 2:00 AM. Despite the late hour, Vivian had stayed up to prepare his favorite meal: steak and mashed potatoes. Diego, however, was in no mood to eat. Hungry but filled with rage, he slammed the door behind him, startling Vivian.

She approached him cautiously, offering the plate of food. Diego, eyes filled with anger, threw the plate at her, the steak and mashed potatoes splattering against her. The glass of wine she had poured for him followed, shattering against her face. A sharp piece of glass cut her cheek deeply, and blood began to flow.

Vivian, in pain and barely able to breathe, pleaded with Diego to help her. But he stood there, motionless, staring at her with contempt. "You smell," he sneered, "and you wear the same clothes for a week."

Desperate, Vivian grabbed a scarf to staunch the bleeding, then found iodine, cotton wool, and a bandage to clean and dress the wound. All the while, Diego mocked her, laughing cruelly at her suffering. Despite everything, her beauty remained undiminished, though her spirit was battered.

As she tended to her wound, Diego finally spoke. "You're pathetic," he said coldly. "You can't even handle a little cut without making a fuss."

Vivian said nothing, her silence filled with pain and sorrow. She had loved Diego once, with all her heart, but now she was beginning to see the man he truly was: a heartless tyrant who took pleasure in her suffering.

The next morning, Diego left for work without a word. Vivian, left alone, cleaned up the mess from the night before. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, the cut on her face a stark reminder of Diego's cruelty. She knew she couldn't continue living like this, but she felt trapped, bound by her love for a man who no longer cared for her.

Days turned into weeks, and Vivian continued to endure Diego's abuse. He would come home late, drunk and angry, and she would be there, waiting for him, hoping for a change that never came. One evening, as she sat alone in the living room, the doorbell rang. Startled, she opened the door to find a stranger standing there.

"Vivian?" the man asked, his voice gentle. "I'm Ethan, Diego's business partner. Can I come in?"

Confused, Vivian stepped aside to let him in. Ethan looked around the house, taking in the signs of neglect and the tension in the air. "I needed to talk to you," he said, his voice low. "Diego... he's been different lately. Distant. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Vivian nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm fine," she lied, her voice trembling.

Ethan reached out, gently touching her arm. "You don't have to lie, Vivian. I can see the pain in your eyes. Diego's not the man he used to be."

For the first time in weeks, Vivian felt a hopeful for a while during his words. "I don't know what to do," she admitted. "He won't let me work, he treats me like a slave, and... he hurts me."

Ethan's eyes darkened with anger. "You deserve better than this, Vivian. You need to leave him."

Vivian shook her head. "I can't. I love him."

"Love shouldn't hurt," Ethan said softly. "You have to take care of yourself, first and foremost."

That night, as she lay in bed, Vivian thought about Ethan's words. She knew he was right, but the thought of leaving Diego terrified her. She couldn't imagine her life without him, even though he was the source of her pain.

The following day, Diego came home early for once. Vivian, surprised, greeted him at the door. "You're home early," she said, trying to hide her anxiety.

Diego shrugged. "I wanted to spend some time with you," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

They sat in the living room, an awkward silence hanging between them. Vivian could feel the tension, the unspoken words that threatened to tear them apart. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "Diego, we need to talk."

Diego's eyes narrowed. "About what?"

"About us. About how you've been treating me."

Diego scoffed. "Treating you? Like what?"

"Like I'm nothing," Vivian said, her voice breaking she dare not question him or cross her boundary.

Diego never changed all the home appliances despite his wealth and what he possessed he only provided only appliances for Vivian to handle.He is such a cruel man.

Chapter 2

The Penthouse company's 28th anniversary was a grand celebration held at one of the biggest hotels in Dallas, Texas. The venue was adorned with bright lights, so vivid that even a blind person could feel their warmth. Tables were lavishly decorated with an array of wines, red roses, gigantic candles, and pink roses artfully arranged around the table.

Everyone was having a great time, including Diego, who was especially delighted as his favorite drink, Scotch, was served. The music was loud enough to be heard from miles away. People danced energetically, eventually tiring from the sheer exuberance of the festivities. As the jubilation continued, the music was lowered, and Miss Joy, the company's founder, took the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "I can't express how much this night means to me. When I first laid the foundation of this company, I faced countless challenges. There were times when I was kidnapped, and I battled severe illness. But by the grace of God, I am here, alive and healthy."

Her speech was met with thunderous applause. She handed the microphone back to the DJ, who immediately resumed the lively music. Everyone continued to dance, enjoying the night with plenty of schnapps in their glasses. They danced until dawn.

As morning approached, some of the executives were mumbling incoherently, intoxicated from the night's revelry. Diego, however, had limited himself to just two bottles of Scotch and was relatively sober. Gaining clarity, he headed straight to the garage, got into his car, and drove home.

Vivian was overjoyed to see her husband return, but her excitement was short-lived. Diego, instead of greeting her warmly, covered his nose in disgust. Her heart sank, feeling pathetic and weak under his cold gaze. Diego didn't care about her feelings. Instead, he lashed out, punching her several times and pushing her head against the wall.

"What did you cook for me?" he yelled, his voice filled with contempt. The bruise on Vivian's face from the previous night still throbbed, but Diego was oblivious to her pain. All he cared about was his meal.

Vivian was lost in thought, pondering her misery. "Men are demons," she thought. "They are heartless." She didn't realize Diego had been staring at her for almost an hour, growing angrier by the minute at her lack of response. He finally threw a plate at her, snapping her back to reality. She quickly retreated to the kitchen to prepare his favorite dish.

Despite the abuse, Vivian's love for Diego remained unshaken. She served him the meal with trembling hands. Diego ate with satisfaction, and soon after, he fell into a deep sleep, snoring loudly. It was as if he had been given a sleeping pill.

Vivian looked at her husband, feeling a mix of love and despair. Two years of marriage had brought her nothing but heartache. Diego never looked her in the eyes with kindness; he only beat her or treated her like a servant. She hadn't had a good meal in years, and her appearance had suffered as a result. She looked worn out, like a broomstick, and her smell was unpleasant.

Despite everything, Vivian clung to the hope that things would get better. She believed in the vows she had taken, even though Diego showed no signs of changing. Her life was a daily struggle, filled with love for a man who saw her as nothing more than a slave.

Vivian decided to take a moment for herself. She went into the bathroom, cleaned herself up, and changed into a fresh set of clothes. She needed to look presentable, if only for herself. As she looked in the mirror, she saw a hope of the woman she used to be before Diego's abuse had taken its toll.

That afternoon, while Diego slept, Vivian sat in the living room and thought about Ethan's visit. Maybe, just maybe, she could find the strength to leave Diego and start a new life. She knew it would be hard, but staying with him was destroying her.

Vivian began to hatch a plan. She would need to gather some money and find a place to stay. She could reach out to Ethan; perhaps he could help her. The thought of leaving Diego terrified her, but she knew she couldn't endure much more.

When Diego finally woke up, he was in a better mood. The celebration had left him feeling triumphant, and for a moment, he treated Vivian with a semblance of decency. "Get me a drink," he ordered, but his tone was less harsh than usual.

Vivian brought him a glass of water, watching him carefully. She needed to be cautious, not to provoke his anger. "Diego, can we talk?" she asked softly.

"What now?" he grumbled.

"About us," she said. "About how you've been treating me."

Diego looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "What about it?"

"I can't live like this anymore," Vivian said, her voice shaking. "You treat me like I'm nothing. You hurt me. I love you, Diego, but I can't go on like this."

Diego's face twisted with anger. "You think you can leave me?" he shouted. "You're nothing without me!"

Vivian felt a surge of fear but also a hurting feeling.

."I deserve better," she said quietly. "I deserve to be happy."

Diego stood up, towering over her. "You'll never leave me," he hissed. "You're mine."

Vivian took a step back, her heart skipped a bit. She knew this was her moment. If she didn't act now, she might never get another chance. "I'm leaving, Diego," she said, her voice firmer. "I'm leaving you."

Diego lunged at her, but Vivian was ready. She dodged his grasp and ran to the bedroom, where she had hidden a brief case for her to escape.

Chapter 3:

Diego, a billionaire with a sense of pride that matched his wealth, arrived late to the office on Monday. His extended sleep from the previous night's events had taken its toll. Mrs. Joy, the owner of the company, couldn't hide her frustration. Her patience was wearing thin, and her anger almost led to Diego receiving a termination letter.

"Who will be your savior now, Diego?" murmured the workers, eyeing him with a mix of jealousy and disdain. Their arrogance towards him was palpable, stemming from his position as the company's Chief Executive and Mrs. Joy's favored employee. They whispered among themselves, unable to conceal their envy.

"He's always in Mrs. Joy's office," one worker muttered. "He must be up to something."

"Probably thinks he's better than us," another chimed in, bitterness evident in their tone.

Despite their harsh words, Diego remained unfazed. His confidence and charisma were unmatched, making him the best worker among them. Mrs. Joy's affection for him only grew each day, much to the chagrin of his colleagues.

Whenever their eyes met, Mrs. Joy would give him sultry looks, her smile filled with unspoken desires. Stupid Diego, she thought, never noticing her advances. She often wore sexy clothes, hoping to catch his eye, but Diego's focus remained on his work. He greeted her politely, never lingering on her attire.

Mrs. Joy stormed into Diego's office. "Why were you late today?" she demanded, her voice laced with irritation.

Diego tried to explain, but her anger clouded her judgment. She barely heard his words, her mind fixated on his lack of attention towards her. Their argument escalated quickly, and before he knew it, Diego was holding a sack letter in his hands.

His eyes filled with unshed tears, making him look even more attractive. "Please, Mrs. Joy, I need this job. I'll do anything," he pleaded.

Mrs. Joy's anger melted at his desperation. "Anything?" she asked, a sly smile forming on her lips. "Then take me out on a date tonight. And afterwards... well, you know what I want."

Diego had no choice but to agree. They went to the finest restaurant in Texas, conveniently located near Mrs. Joy's office. They sat down on a plush sofa, and Joy's eyes roamed over Diego's features. His dark curly hair, deep mahogany complexion, and lightly trimmed mustache made him undeniably attractive.

As they talked, Diego found himself drawn to her sincere brown eyes. Unable to resist any longer, he leaned in and their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss. The kiss was electric, and he pulled her closer, his hands exploring her body. Their breathing became ragged as they indulged in their forbidden desire, each touch igniting a fire within them.

Joy moaned softly as Diego's hand slipped beneath her dress, touching her intimately. "Don't stop," she whispered, her voice breathy with desire. The intensity of the moment consumed them, their surroundings fading into oblivion.

She reached for his zipper, her hand slipping inside to stroke him. Diego groaned at the sensation, his mind clouded with lust. He lifted her onto his lap, guiding her movements as she rode him slowly. Her moans grew louder, each one driving him wild.

"Faster," she urged, her voice needy. Diego complied, moving with increasing intensity. He shifted her into a new position, giving her a doggy style that made her cry out in pleasure. "Oh yes, Diego, just like that!"

He raised her legs, angling her hips for deeper penetration. His tongue flicked over her sensitive spot, tasting her sweetness. The scent of her arousal drove him to the brink, and he couldn't get enough. He preferred his boss's passionate responses over his wife's indifferent meals any day.

Their encounter was intense, filled with raw passion and unspoken desires. By the time they were done, both were breathless, their bodies entwined. Diego had secured his job, but at what cost? He couldn't deny the powerful attraction between them, and he wondered how long they could keep their affair hidden.

that their relationship would never be the same again.

After their passionate encounter at the restaurant, they decided to take things further. Mrs. Joy insisted on going to a luxury hotel nearby. As they entered the suite, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Diego could feel his pulse quicken as he took in the opulent surroundings. The room was spacious, with a king-sized bed draped in satin sheets and a panoramic view of the city.

Mrs. Joy wasted no time. She turned to face Diego, her eyes blazing with desire. "Take off your clothes," she commanded, her voice firm and seductive.

Diego obeyed, his hands trembling slightly as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then slid out of his trousers and underwear. He stood before her, fully exposed, his heart pounding in his chest.

Mrs. Joy's eyes roved over his body, taking in every detail. She licked her lips, her gaze hungry. "You're even more magnificent than I imagined," she said, her voice husky with need.

She approached him slowly, her fingers trailing over his chest and down his abdomen. Diego shivered at her touch, his arousal growing. Mrs. Joy pushed him onto the bed, straddling him as she leaned down to kiss him deeply. Her hands roamed over his body, exploring every inch of him.

Diego's hands found her hips, and he pulled her closer, his need for her overwhelming. He could feel her wetness through the fabric of her dress, and he groaned with desire. Mrs. Joy ground against him, her movements slow and deliberate. She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

"I want you to make me scream," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

Diego's eyes darkened with lust. He flipped her onto her back, positioning himself between her legs. He tugged at her dress, pulling it off and tossing it aside. She lay beneath him, wearing nothing but a lace bra and panties. Diego's mouth found her breast, sucking and biting gently through the fabric. Mrs. Joy moaned, arching her back in pleasure.

He moved lower, kissing a trail down her stomach. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her glistening folds. He could smell her arousal, and it drove him wild.

Diego's tongue flicked out, tasting her. Mrs. Joy cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring her most intimate places. Her moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his mouth. He could feel her muscles tightening, her body on the edge of release.

He pulled back, looking up at her. "Not yet," he said, his voice rough with desire.

Mrs. Joy's eyes opened, filled with frustration and need. "Please, Diego," she begged. "I need you."

Diego couldn't resist her plea. He moved back up, positioning himself at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, savoring the feeling of her tightness around him. Mrs. Joy gasped, her nails digging into his back. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

They moved together, their bodies in perfect positioning The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, their moans and cries echoing off the walls. Diego's thrusts grew harder, his need for release building. Mrs. Joy's body tightened around him, her orgasm approaching.

"Diego, I'm going to... oh God!" she screamed, her body convulsing in pleasure.

Diego followed her over the edge, his release crashing over him like a wave. He collapsed on top of her, their bodies slick with sweat. They lay there, breathing heavily, their hearts pounding in their chests.

After a few moments, Diego rolled off of her, pulling her close. They lay in silence, the aftermath of their passion settling over them. Mrs. Joy rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin.

"That was incredible," she said softly.

Diego nodded, unable to form words. He could still feel the remnants of their encounter, his body humming with satisfaction. But beneath the euphoria, a nagging worry lingered. What had they just done? And what would happen next?

Diego awoke the next morning to the sound of his phone buzzing. He groaned, reaching for it on the nightstand. The screen flashed with a message from his wife, reminding him of an important meeting he had that day. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as the reality of the situation hit him.

Mrs. Joy stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled, stretching languidly. "Good morning," she purred, her voice still thick with sleep.

Diego forced a smile, his mind skipped a bit. "Good morning," he replied, trying to keep his tone light.