The Betrayed Wife's Ruthless Mafia Comeback

Katarina De Luca POV: I was in my private glasshouse, trimming the thorns from a stem of Black Baccara roses. The rare, velvet-dark blooms were one of the few things in this estate that brought me a quiet sense of peace. The silence was shattered as the glass door was thrown open, slamming against its frame. Alessandro stormed in, bringing a storm of fury into my sanctuary. I didn't turn around. I snipped another thorn with a precise, metallic click. "The custom is to knock, Alessandro." He ignored the jibe, striding until he stood beside me. "What did you do to Aria? Why did you freeze her accounts?" I placed the clippers down on the workbench and finally faced him. My expression was placid. "I did nothing. I simply followed your father's directive. Or would you prefer to explain to him why an outsider requires access to three million dollars of family funds?" I used Donato's name like a shield, and it worked. His anger had nowhere to go. He couldn't argue with his father's law. He took a deep, steadying breath, his strategy shifting. The anger was replaced by a false, placating softness. "Katarina, we don't have to be like this. I know you're upset about what you saw in the study." He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a familiar blue velvet box. He opened it. Inside, nestled on a bed of white satin, was a necklace—a stunning, deep blue sapphire surrounded by a halo of diamonds. The 'Heart of the Sea.' "I bought this for you at the auction. I know how much you wanted it." He was trying to buy my forgiveness, to settle the account. It was his way. He believed every wound had a price tag. I looked at the necklace. I had wanted it, once. Now, the sight of it made me feel sick. "So this is the price of my humiliation?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. His jaw tightened. The impatience was back. "Why do you always have to make things so difficult? Aria is a distraction. A toy. You are Mrs. De Luca. Don't lose your dignity over something so trivial." *Trivial.* He had just defined his infidelity, her corruption, and my public degradation as a trivial matter. In that moment, any lingering, microscopic piece of my heart that still belonged to him turned to dust. I finally understood. In his eyes, Aria and I were the same. We were just different types of property. One for show, one for play. I held out my hand, a serene smile gracing my lips. "It's beautiful. Thank you." Relief washed over his face. He thought he had won. He thought I had a price. He placed the box in my hand. I let it rest in my palm, feeling its weight. "So," I said, my eyes meeting his. "What do I have to do in return?" "It's simple," he said, falling right into my trap. "Call Mark. Tell him to reactivate Aria's accounts. Say you've reviewed the books and it was all a misunderstanding." He didn't just want me to forgive. He wanted me to personally undo my victory and exonerate his mistress. My smile deepened, but it didn't touch my eyes. I opened the box, lifted the heavy, cold necklace, and walked to the antique mirror hanging on the wall. I fastened the clasp behind my neck. The sapphire rested in the hollow of my throat, its icy facets glittering against my skin. In the reflection, my face was pale, beautiful, and utterly cold. "It does suit me," I said, more to myself than to him. Alessandro smiled, a satisfied, arrogant expression. The matter, in his mind, was closed. I turned back to him, my face a mask of wifely obedience. I touched the cold gem at my throat. "Alright, Alessandro. I'll take care of it."