Revenge on my Abusive Mafia Husband

The late afternoon rush at Rosie's Diner was in full swing. The sun streamed through the big front windows, lighting up the red booths and the black-and-white checkered floor. The air smelled like fries and coffee, and the place hummed with chatter-construction guys unwinding, a few retirees lingering over pie, and some loud college kids splitting a tab. Tina Rossi moved through it all like she owned the place, her tray loaded with plates and a grin on her face.

"Order up, Jenkins!" she called, sliding a burger in front of the old guy by the window. "Don't say I never do anything for you."

Mr. Jenkins, a regular with a mop of white hair, smirked. "You're a saint, Tina. What's a guy gotta do to get a smile with that burger?"

"Pay your tab from last week," she fired back, winking as she topped off his coffee. "I'm not running a charity here."

He laughed, and Tina moved on, dodging a kid who'd dropped a ketchup packet. She loved this job-well, most days. The people, the noise, the way she could make somebody's day with a quick joke. It wasn't fancy, but it was hers.

At the counter, her best friend Ginny was refilling the sugar shakers, her curly hair bouncing as she peeked over at Tina. "You got an admirer, girl. Booth five. He's been eyeing you like you're the special of the day."

Tina glanced over. A guy sat there-late twenties, dark hair slicked back, wearing a leather jacket that screamed "I'm trying too hard." He was good-looking, sure, but in a way that made her think he knew it. He caught her staring and flashed a grin.

"Oh, joy," Tina muttered, turning back to Ginny. "Another prince charming. Should I start planning the wedding?"

Ginny snickered. "He's got a vibe. Maybe he's your type."

"My type? Please. My type is 'pays his bill and doesn't hit on me with lines he got from a rom-com.'" Tina grabbed a rag and wiped down a spot on the counter, but she couldn't help sneaking another look. Okay, he wasn't bad to look at.

The door jingled, and another guy walked in. This one was different-tall, dark hair, dressed in a sharp white shirt and pants that fit just right. He looked like he belonged in an office, not a greasy diner, but he didn't seem out of place. He scanned the room, his eyes pausing on Mr. Leather Jacket for a second, then took a seat at the counter.

Tina raised an eyebrow. Two cute guys in ten minutes? I should play the lottery.

She was about to head over when Leather Jacket stood up and swaggered toward her, holding a single red rose like he'd just invented romance. Tina stopped short, blinking at him.

"Uh, hi?" she said, gripping her tray like a shield. "You need something?"

He grinned, leaning in a little too close. "I couldn't help myself. You're the prettiest thing in here. Had to come say hi."

Tina snorted, loud enough that a guy at the next table looked up. "Wow, did you practice that in the mirror? I bet you say that to all the waitresses."

His smile didn't budge. "Only the ones who look like you. I'm Jake, by the way. Thought maybe this rose could convince you to let me take you out."

She glanced at the flower, then back at him, her lips twitching. "A rose, huh? What's next, a poem? 'Roses are red, I'm kinda sleazy'?"

Jake laughed, like he thought she was flirting. "Come on, give me a shot. Dinner, maybe? I promise I'm a good time."

Tina tilted her head, sizing him up. "A good time? Honey, I get enough excitement dodging spilled coffee and cranky customers. But points for confidence."

Ginny, who'd been watching the whole thing, leaned over the counter. "Tina, he's trying! Maybe don't scare him off yet."

"Scare him off?" Tina shot back, smirking. "Gin, if he can't handle me now, he's not surviving dessert."

Jake wasn't fazed. He pulled out his phone, still grinning. "How about your number? I'll call you, prove I'm worth it."

Tina opened her mouth to say no-nicely, of course-when the guy from the counter stood up and walked over. He moved with this calm, steady vibe, like he wasn't in a hurry but knew exactly where he was going. Up close, he was even better-looking-dark eyes, strong jaw, the kind of face you'd notice twice.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I don't want to butt in, but I think you should know something."

Tina and Jake both turned to him. Jake frowned. "Who are you, man?"

The guy didn't blink. "I was outside when your friends were talking. They've got a bet going-two hundred bucks says you'll get her into bed by the end of the week."

Tina's mouth fell open. "Wait, what?"

Jake's face went from cocky to panicked in two seconds flat. "That's- No, it's not like that! It was just a stupid-"

"A bet?" Tina cut him off, her voice rising. "Two hundred dollars? Are you kidding me? What am I, a slot machine?"

"Look, I didn't mean-" Jake stammered, backing up.

"Didn't mean what? To make me the punchline of your little bro party?" Tina crossed her arms, glaring. "Take your rose and your cheap bet and get out of my diner."

Jake hesitated, then bolted for the door, leaving the rose on a table. The bell jingled as he disappeared.

Tina exhaled, her hands shaking a little. She turned to the guy who'd stepped in. "Okay, wow. Thanks for that. I owe you one."

He smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made her stomach flip-warm, real, not flashy. "No problem. I just figured you should know what he was up to."

She studied him for a second. He was polite, but not stiff. Handsome, but not full of himself. "I'm Tina," she said, sticking out her hand. "You got a name, or do I just call you my knight in shining armor?"

He shook her hand, his grip solid. "Vincenzo. Enzo, if you want."

"Enzo," she said, testing it out. "Fancy. You Italian or just faking it with that outfit?"

He chuckled. "Italian. Family's from Naples."

"Ooh, a classy hero," she teased, her sarcasm softening into a grin. "Seriously, though, that was cool of you. I'd have felt pretty dumb falling for his game."

Enzo shrugged. "I don't like liars. You didn't deserve that."

Tina nodded, liking him more by the second. "Well, you saved me from a disaster date, so thanks."

He glanced at the door, then back at her. "I should head out. But maybe I'll stop by again sometime."

"Yeah, maybe," she said, a little bummed he was leaving already.

He gave her one last smile-God, that smile-and walked out. Tina watched him go, feeling weirdly off-balance.

Ginny popped up beside her, elbowing her hard. "Tina! What are you doing? Go after him!"

"What?" Tina laughed, turning to her. "Why?"

"Because he's hot, he just saved your ass, and you were totally checking him out!" Ginny's eyes were wide with excitement. "Come on, don't let him get away!"

"He was just being nice," Tina said, but she couldn't stop smiling. "I don't even know him."

"So what? That's how it starts!" Ginny grabbed Tina's apron and yanked it off her. "Go! I'll cover for you."

Tina rolled her eyes but didn't fight it. "Fine. But if this flops, you're buying me coffee."

"Deal!" Ginny shoved her toward the door. "Move!"

Tina stepped outside, the evening air cool against her skin. She spotted Enzo a few feet away, unlocking a sleek black car. Her heart did a little jump. Okay, here goes nothing.

"Hey, Enzo!" she called, jogging over.

He turned, looking surprised. "Tina?"

She stopped in front of him, suddenly nervous. "Yeah, hi. I just- Thanks again, you know? And, uh, if you're not busy, maybe we could get coffee sometime? My treat, for the rescue."

His smile came back, slow and easy, and Tina forgot how to breathe for a second. "

Six Months later

The Los Angeles sky was painted gold as the sun dipped low, turning the wedding venue into something out of a dream. White roses lined the aisle, their sweet scent mixing with the warm breeze. Valentina "Tina" Rossi stood there, her heart thumping like a drum, staring at Vincenzo "Enzo" DeSantis. He looked sharp as hell in his black suit, that cocky grin of his making her knees weak.

"You ready to lock this down, Mrs. DeSantis?" he said, voice low and teasing.

Tina smirked, tugging at her veil. "Only if you don't trip over my dress on the dance floor. I've seen your moves-they're a liability."

Enzo laughed, a deep rumble that made her stomach flip. "I'll manage. You just say 'I do.'"

The officiant started talking, and the crowd-family, friends, and a few faces Tina didn't know-went quiet. Her best friend Ginny was already sniffling in the front row, and old Mr. Jenkins from the diner showed up in a tie that looked like it'd been through a war. It was everything Tina had imagined. Well, almost. There were those guys in slick suits lingering near the back, eyes darting like they were sizing up the place. Enzo's work buddies, probably, she figured, shrugging it off.

The vows were quick, the "I do's" even quicker. When Enzo kissed her, the crowd whooped and hollered, and Tina felt like she could float away. She'd never been this damn happy.

The reception was a blast. String lights twinkled overhead, and the band played something upbeat. Enzo twirled Tina across the dance floor, stepping on her dress not once, but twice. "Told you!" she cackled, smacking his chest. "You're a menace."

"Lucky I'm your menace now," he shot back, pulling her in tight.

She grinned, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of those suited guys whispering to Enzo's cousin, both of them looking too serious for a party. It nagged at her for a second, but the music and the buzz of champagne drowned it out.

A few months later, they were sprawled on the couch in their cramped apartment, Tina flipping through a home decor magazine. Enzo had his arm around her, sipping a beer. "We need a real place," he said. "A house. Somewhere to raise a family. You see one you like, you tell me, alright?"

Tina's head snapped up, eyes wide. "Wait, for real? I get to pick?"

He kissed her temple, his lips warm. "Anything you want, babe."

She didn't waste time. A week later, she was cruising through a quiet neighborhood when she saw it-a two-story house with white shutters, a big green yard, and a porch swing swaying in the breeze. It was perfect. She could see it all: kids running around, Enzo flipping burgers out back, her sipping coffee on that swing. Her heart did a little dance.

She called Enzo that afternoon, practically bouncing. "I found it. Our house. It's fucking amazing."

"Send me the address," he said, voice steady but warm. "I'll take care of it."

The next day, Enzo rolled up to the house in his blacked-out car, the engine purring as he parked. The owner, some guy named Paul, was out front, watering the lawn in a faded polo shirt. He squinted as Enzo stepped out, all polished shoes and quiet confidence.

"Hey there," Enzo called, flashing a smile that was all charm. "Nice spot you've got."

Paul turned off the hose, wiping his hands. "Uh, thanks. You need something?"

"Just here to talk about the house," Enzo said, hands in his pockets. "I'd like to buy it."

Paul frowned, scratching his neck. "It's not for sale, man."

Enzo's smile didn't falter, but his eyes got a little sharper. "Come on, Paul. Everything's got a price."

"Look, I don't know you-"

"Vincenzo DeSantis." Enzo let the name drop like a stone, watching Paul's face twitch. "Heard of me?"

Paul's Adam's apple bobbed. "I... yeah. Maybe. But I'm not looking to sell."

Enzo stepped closer, pulling an envelope from his jacket-thick, heavy with cash. "Here's the thing. My wife loves this place. Makes her happy. And when she's happy, I'm happy." He held out the envelope. "This is a good deal. More than it's worth."

Paul stared at it, hands fidgeting. "I don't-"

"Take the money," Enzo cut in, voice still smooth but edged with steel. "Or we can make this harder than it needs to be. Up to you."

Paul's eyes darted to the house, then back to Enzo. He took the envelope, fingers shaking, and peeked inside. His breath hitched at the stack of bills. "Okay," he mumbled. "Okay, fine."

Enzo clapped him on the back, grin back in full force. "Good choice. My guy'll handle the paperwork."

As Paul scurried inside, Enzo glanced over at Tina, waiting in the car with that big, oblivious smile. He gave her a thumbs-up, and she clapped her hands like a kid on Christmas. Anything for her, he thought, chest tightening.

Nine months later, Tina was in a hospital bed, sweat dripping down her face, cursing Enzo's name. "You did this to me, you bastard!" she groaned, squeezing his hand so hard he winced.

"I know, I'm the worst," he said, brushing her hair back. "You're almost there, babe. You're a fucking rockstar."

One last push, and the room filled with a baby's cry. Tina flopped back, panting and laughing, tears streaking her cheeks. The nurse swaddled the little bundle and handed her over. Tina's breath caught as she looked at her daughter-tiny, perfect, with Enzo's dark eyes.

"Hey, Mia," she whispered, voice cracking. "I'm your mom."

Enzo leaned in, his big, calloused hand dwarfing Mia's as he touched her cheek. "She's beautiful," he said, voice soft as hell. "Just like her mama."

Tina looked up at him, grinning through the exhaustion. "We're a family now, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes locked on Mia. "Our little crew."

The nurse stepped out, leaving them in this quiet, perfect bubble. Enzo shifted, cradling Mia like she was made of glass. "Gonna give you the world, kid," he murmured, so low Tina barely caught it.

She chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Better start with diapers, tough guy."

He smirked. "Deal."

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, jaw tightening for a split second before he hit ignore. Tina raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

Enzo shrugged, slipping the phone away. "Just business. Nothing big."

She nodded, too wiped out to dig deeper. But as she looked back at Mia, cradling her close, a little knot twisted in her gut. That "just business" line was starting to sound familiar-too familiar. The calls always came at weird times, and he always brushed them off with that same easy smile.

For now, though, she let it go. Mia's tiny yawn was all that mattered.

The living room was a mess-crayons scattered across the coffee table, a half-eaten apple on the couch, and Mia's latest masterpiece smudged on the wall. Tina sighed, running a hand through her hair as she picked up a toy truck. Three years old, and Mia was a tornado with curls and a giggle that could melt anyone. Even now, she was spinning in circles, singing some made-up song about dragons and princesses.

"Mia, baby, slow down before you crash into something," Tina called, her voice warm but tired.

"I'm a dragon, Mommy!" Mia roared, flapping her arms.

Tina laughed despite herself. This was her world now-sticky fingers, bedtime stories, and a husband who ran half the city's underworld. She'd known what Enzo was for years, ever since the truth slipped out before Mia was born. Mafia boss. Head of the DeSantis family. It wasn't like he hid it anymore-the late nights, the scars, the way people flinched when he walked into a room. But Tina loved him, and love was a stubborn bitch. She'd endure the whispers, the fear, the distance, because he was hers. At least, she hoped he still was.

The clock read 7:45 p.m. Enzo was late again. She'd made his favorite-chicken parmesan, the kind that took hours to get right. It was cooling on the stove, and the knot in her stomach tightened. Lately, he'd been a ghost in their home, drifting in after midnight with excuses about "business." She didn't ask anymore. Asking meant fighting, and fighting meant facing things she wasn't ready to face.

The door swung open, and Mia bolted toward it. "Daddy!"

Enzo scooped her up, his deep laugh filling the house. "Hey, princess. You been good?"

Tina leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching them. He looked like sin in a suit-dark hair tousled, tie loose, a shadow of stubble on his jaw. A new tattoo peeked out from his rolled-up sleeve, some jagged design she didn't recognize. Her chest ached. He was still the man who'd swept her off her feet, but something was slipping.

"Hey," she said, forcing a smile. "Dinner's ready."

He glanced at her, his eyes softening for a second. "You're too good to me, babe." He set Mia down and kissed Tina's forehead, quick and casual. She caught a whiff of whiskey and smoke on him-not unusual, but it stung anyway.

They ate together, Mia chattering about preschool while Enzo shoveled food in, barely looking up. Tina watched him, her fork hovering over her plate. He was distracted, his mind somewhere else. She missed him-missed the way he used to look at her like she was the only thing that mattered. Tonight, she'd change that.

After Mia was asleep, Tina slipped into the bedroom, her nerves buzzing. It had been weeks-maybe months-since they'd been close. She'd bought lingerie last week, black lace with a plunging neckline, the kind that screamed take me now. She changed in the bathroom, checking herself in the mirror. Her curves were softer since Mia, but damn, she still looked good. She fluffed her hair, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

Enzo was in bed, eyes half-closed, scrolling through his phone. The sheets were bunched around his waist, his chest bare. Tina's pulse raced. She leaned against the doorframe, one hip cocked, letting the lace do the talking.

"Hey, handsome," she purred, her voice low. "You awake?"

He looked up, blinking like he'd forgotten she was there. His gaze slid over her, and for a heartbeat, she thought she had him. Then he rubbed his face, groaning. "Jesus, Tina, you're killing me. You look fucking incredible."

She grinned, crawling onto the bed. "Good. That's the plan." She straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss his neck, her hands sliding under the sheets. He was warm, solid, and she found him-half-hard already. Perfect. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking slow and deliberate, feeling him twitch.

Enzo groaned again, but it wasn't the good kind. He caught her wrist, pulling her hand away. "Babe, stop. I'm fucking exhausted. Long day."

Her stomach dropped. She sat back, the lace suddenly feeling ridiculous. "Oh."

He opened his eyes, giving her a tired smile. "Don't look at me like that. I want to, I swear. Just... tomorrow, okay? I'll make it up to you."

Tina swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding. "Yeah. Sure. Tomorrow."

She slid off him, curling up on her side of the bed. He reached for her, his arm draping over her waist, but it felt like pity. She stared at the wall, the sting of rejection burning behind her eyes. Long day. Right. She'd heard that one before.

Morning came too fast. Tina woke to the sound of water running-Enzo in the shower, getting ready for another day of "work." She dragged herself out of bed, the lingerie tangled in the sheets like a bad joke. She kicked it under the bed and pulled on a robe, heading to the kitchen.

Mia was still asleep, so the house was quiet. Tina started the coffee, her mind replaying last night. She'd tried-really tried-and he'd brushed her off like it was nothing. Maybe it was her. Maybe she wasn't enough anymore. The thought twisted in her gut, but she shoved it down. He was busy. That's all.

The coffee maker gurgled, and she leaned against the counter, staring out the window. Enzo's car was parked crooked in the driveway, like he'd been in a hurry last night. She frowned. He'd smelled like whiskey, hadn't he? And there'd been that moment-when he'd grabbed his jacket, she'd seen a smudge on the collar. Lipstick? No, it couldn't be. She was paranoid.

The shower shut off, and Enzo walked out, towel slung low on his hips. Water glistened on his chest, and Tina's traitorous heart skipped. "Morning," he said, flashing that damn grin.

"Morning." She handed him a mug, trying to sound normal. "Big day?"

"Always." He sipped the coffee, leaning beside her. "You okay? You seem off."

She forced a laugh. "Just tired. Someone kept me up with promises of tomorrow."

He chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. "I'll keep it this time. Scout's honor."

"Yeah, right." She smirked, but her chest felt tight. He finished dressing-suit, tie, the whole mafia king look-and grabbed his keys. "Love you," he called, heading out.

"Love you too," she muttered, watching the door close.

Mid-morning, Enzo was back in the shower. He'd forgotten something-his wallet, probably-and popped home to grab it. Tina was in the bedroom, folding Mia's tiny clothes, when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at it-Unknown Caller. It rang again, insistent. She hesitated. Enzo hated her touching his phone, but he was in the shower, and what if it was important?

She picked it up, hitting answer. "Hello?"

A woman's voice slid through the line, smooth and sweet. "Hi, darling. Where are you?"

Tina froze, her breath catching. "Who the fuck is this?"

.