Betrayed by the Don, Carrying His Heir

Four years ago, I took three bullets for my husband, Marcus DeLuca, heir to New York's most powerful mafia family. It cost me three years in a rival family's flooded cell. They interrogated me, drugged me with hallucinogens, and starved me, trying to make me reveal the DeLuca family's accounts, warehouses, and shipping routes. Three years later, I finally escaped. At the DeLuca Foundation's charity gala, everyone was talking about Rachel Bellini. The same woman I'd slapped in public years ago after she drunkenly draped herself over my husband's shoulder. "God only knows how much Marcus has spent on Rachel over the years. Now she's even got a Golden Globe nomination." "After Sarah disappeared, she moved into the DeLuca estate." "That's not all she got. She gave Marcus two kids." "But Sarah is Marcus's wife. The DeLuca family threw the biggest wedding this city had ever seen." "Oh, come on. She was abused for three years. She can't have kids anymore. Look at her." For more than 1,000 days and nights in that flooded cell, I'd believed he was tearing the city apart to find me. It turned out he'd had other things to do. Pathetic. In the middle of the ballroom, Marcus and Rachel gazed into each other's eyes. Someone shouted, "Make it official, Marcus!" Just then, the spotlight swept across me. Everyone turned to look at me, waiting for me to slap her a second time. I just raised my champagne glass and smiled. "Don't stop on my account." Then I turned and walked out of the ballroom before they could see my red, swollen eyes. I called Lily. "Last time, you said your jewelry studio in Sydney still needs a partner. I've thought it over. I'm in." Chapter 1 Sarah's POV: A year after escaping the flooded cell, I still woke from nightmares of electric shocks and whippings. In my dreams, I prayed again and again for my husband to save me. He never did. It was the same in real life. Marcus DeLuca was my husband and the Don of New York's largest mafia family. Four years ago, an ambush in Philadelphia nearly killed him. I took three bullets for him and used the last of my strength to shove him down the slope and into cover. The rival family that captured me interrogated me, drugged me with hallucinogens, and starved me, trying to make me reveal the DeLuca family's accounts, warehouses, and shipping routes. I didn't tell them a thing. A year ago, I finally escaped. Marcus was surprised to see me, but he still made sure doctors took good care of me. Once I'd recovered a little, he gathered the DeLuca family's senior members and announced, "This is my wife. Anyone who disrespects her is challenging me." I took it as proof that he still loved me, right up until tonight's annual DeLuca Foundation charity gala. As I tried on my gown, I pictured Marcus announcing my grand return to New York society. But when I walked into the ballroom packed with DeLuca family members, bankers, and politicians, everyone was talking about another woman. Rachel Bellini. The woman who'd gone after my husband before I was captured. The woman I'd slapped. "God only knows how much Marcus has spent on Rachel over the years. Now she's even got a Golden Globe nomination." "After Sarah disappeared, she went public with her relationship with Marcus." "Not just that. She gave Marcus two kids." "But Sarah is Marcus's wife. Did you all forget? The DeLuca family threw the biggest wedding this city had ever seen." "Oh, come on. Sarah was abused for three years. She can't have kids anymore. Look at her. You really think Marcus will keep waiting for her to give him an heir?" I'd asked Marcus about the rumors that Rachel had his children. He'd brushed them off, saying the tabloids called every woman he spent time with his side piece and that I shouldn't take it seriously. But now, at the center of the ballroom, Marcus's hand rested casually on Rachel's waist. I thought he would move his hand, or at least deny the rumors about the kids in front of everyone. But he said nothing. That told me plenty. Someone raised a glass and shouted, "Make it official, Marcus!" People started egging them on. He didn't deny a thing. Instead, he gazed into Rachel's eyes. For more than 1,000 days and nights in that flooded cell, I'd believed he was tearing the city apart to find me. It turned out he'd had other things to do. Just then, the spotlight swept across me. Everyone turned to look at me, waiting for me to make a scene. My fingers were icy and trembling. All I could do was grip the glass tighter and force a smile. "Don't stop on my account." Before Marcus could look my way, I hurried out and got into my car. The cool night air through the car window dried my tears and blew away the last of my illusions about him. How pathetic. I'd wasted three years of my life on a man who didn't love me anymore. Back at the estate, I had the maids move my things into the guest room. Then I washed up and went to bed early. Late that night, Marcus came home reeking of alcohol, shouting for painkillers and electrolyte water. It used to be that no matter how late he got home, I'd leave both on his nightstand. But not anymore. Early the next morning, I canceled my appointment at a private fertility clinic in Manhattan. Eight months earlier, Marcus had found the clinic, one of the best-known in the city, and started me on fertility treatment. After that, daily hormone shots became my morning routine. I even taped the treatment schedule to the bathroom mirror and prayed it would work. In that time, I got pregnant twice, but neither one lasted past two months. The doctors had plenty of explanations. Long-term malnutrition. Damage from the drugs. Psychological trauma. Thinking about his two kids with Rachel, I tore down the schedule and threw the remaining medicine and needles into the trash. Then I sat on the toilet lid, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed. I didn't know how long I'd been there when Howard, the butler, called through the door, "Donna, the gown the Don picked out for you has arrived. He expects you at the Valenti family's engagement party tonight." I looked at my pale face and red, swollen eyes in the mirror and gave a bitter smile. Of course. Marcus, the mighty Don, was used to arranging my schedule without ever asking what I wanted. Until I was fully ready to leave, I had no choice but to go along with his plans. That night, I was the last to arrive, carrying only a clutch. Marcus stood at the entrance to the hall. He glanced at his watch, then at my hands, and frowned. "You're late. Where's the gift?" "I didn't get one." "Sarah, listen." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "I know Rachel upset you at the gala. But I swear, she didn't mean to." He crooked his arm for me to take. "She's in the running for a Golden Globe. She needs the press to keep talking about her. I was just giving those reporters something to write about. That's all." He had a way of talking that made him sound like the most innocent man in the room. Then he took a drag on his cigar, blowing smoke into my face. "I bought you an emerald necklace at the gala auction. I know how much you love playing with those stones." I turned my head away and closed my eyes for a second. "You can't keep breathing in secondhand smoke, Sarah. It'll make it even harder for you to get pregnant." My OB-GYN's words echoed in my ears. "The ceremony's about to start." I fought back my nausea and walked past him toward the ballroom. Chapter 2 Sarah's POV: The moment I stepped into the hall, Donna Valenti came over, hugged me, and kissed my cheek. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so glad to see you safe and sound." Then she leaned in close and said quietly, "Don't worry about Rachel. As long as the DeLuca family still needs our smuggling routes, I'll never let her take your place." I already had other plans, but I squeezed her hand gratefully. "Whatever happens, thank you for everything you've done for me." "Of course. The Valenti and Romano families have been allies for years." Hearing her mention my family stung. I forced a smile and kept making conversation with the other socialites. The party finally ended. As I opened the car door, someone grabbed my arm. "Ride with me," Marcus ordered. "No, thanks. I want to get home soon." He frowned and yanked me close. The smell of whiskey and cigars brought back all the nights I'd spent waiting up for him. "Are you still mad about Rachel? She's an actress signed to my company. That's all." I laughed bitterly to myself. I'd been wrong to love him for so many years, but I wasn't an idiot. "Marcus, I'm not stupid enough to believe she's just your employee when you have two children together." "Sarah." His jaw went tight. "Is that how little you think of me? If you're upset that I've kept you at home, just say so. "You want your own career? Fine. You've always wanted to design jewelry, right? I'll make it happen. But don't turn this into something it isn't." Just then, Daniel, his right-hand man, hurried over. "Don. Ms. Bellini got cornered by paparazzi outside the hotel. Somebody knocked over a barricade. She fell and cut her arm. She's at St. Vincent's Hospital now." The anger vanished from Marcus's face. He looked at me, torn, and I knew exactly what he wanted to do. So I said, "Go. You're the one who made her a star. Of course you care about her." He stepped closer and pulled me into his arms, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive spot on my lower back. I stiffened on instinct, yet my body leaned into him anyway, craving his comfort. During those three years in the flooded cell, memories of his arms around me had gotten me through so many nights of abuse. I knew I should stay away from him, but I was ashamed of how my body responded. He murmured against my ear, "There was a problem with her security, so I have to go. I'll be back soon. We'll try again tonight, okay? I promise you, we're going to have a baby." As if to seal his promise, he kissed my forehead solemnly, then hurried off. What he didn't know was that I'd already stopped the hormone shots. Back at the DeLuca estate, I heard the maids whispering. "Looks like this place is about to get a new lady of the house." "Ms. Bellini has been the lady of the house for ages." "I like Ms. Bellini better than the Donna anyway. Last time she came, she gave each of us a Cartier bracelet." "Right? She's so generous it's crazy. I still can't bring myself to wear mine." I stopped on the landing. The vase my mother had given me used to sit there. Now a promotional photo from one of Rachel's movies had taken its place. That woman was using every trick she had to get under my skin. I walked back to the guest room on the second floor in silence. As I shut the door, I heard a snap. I'd clenched my hand so hard that one of my long nails had broken and dug into my palm. Blood dripped onto the plush carpet. If I kept living here, I'd lose my mind sooner or later. I pulled out my phone and called Lily. "Sarah?" "Last time, you said your jewelry studio in Sydney still needs a partner. I've thought it over. I'm in." "Wait." All at once, she sounded wide awake. "Are you serious? You know Marcus would never let you do that." I looked up at the gates of the DeLuca estate. For three years, the thought of this place had kept me alive. "He won't be a problem. Because I'm getting a divorce." Chapter 3 Sarah's POV: Marcus didn't come home that night, and I stayed up until morning sorting through photos from when I was a girl. I was the youngest Romano daughter, and the hardest to handle. The DeLuca and Romano families had been allies in New York for decades, so I'd known from a young age that I would marry Marcus someday. On our wedding day, he vowed, "Sarah, you'll never have to bow your head to anyone. If I ever betray you, you can cut off my ring finger." I laughed. "I don't think I'll ever get the chance to use that promise." I thought my life would stay that perfect forever. Until Rachel showed up. Rachel was a waitress at a private club Marcus often visited. One day, she spilled a drink on him. He found out afterward that she was a sophomore film student at NYU. At least, that was the version he told me. At first, it was easy enough to accept what he did for her. He paid her tuition and rented her an apartment. Then he found her a reliable agent to take her to auditions. Before long, Rachel signed with DeLuca Media. She no longer had to compete with dozens of girls for a single role at open auditions. Even so, having her around never really bothered me. As far as I was concerned, he was just sponsoring her. Then one day, I left my prenatal appointment with an ultrasound picture in my hand, excited to send it to Marcus. A gossip reporter stopped me and played me a video. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of a private house in the Hamptons, Rachel threw her arms around Marcus and kissed him hard. Then he pressed her up against the window, and their naked bodies moved together again and again. "Ten million dollars, Mrs. DeLuca. I'd say that's a fair price." I covered my stomach on instinct and leaned against the cold hospital wall, gasping for air. A passing nurse saw that something was wrong. She helped me sit down and gave me oxygen for half an hour before I finally pulled myself together. Back outside, I stuffed the ultrasound picture into my bag and headed to Rachel's apartment. When she opened the door, she was still wearing a low-cut silk nightgown. The moment she saw me, her face went white. "Sarah—" I slapped her. It wasn't until her head snapped to the side that I realized my hand was shaking. "I know how it looks, but it's really not what you think. That house isn't mine. I was just there for work. The paparazzi picked the angle on purpose. That's how they make money. Nothing you're imagining has ever happened between Marcus and me." Even now, that snake was trying to talk her way out of it. "So you're saying the paparazzi delivered you to my husband's house in the Hamptons?" Her lips moved. "Those opportunities came because Marcus thought I had potential. I never asked him to..." "Don't." I cut her off. "You could tell me you want to be famous. You could tell me you like him. You could even tell me to my face you want to take him from me. At least I'd respect your nerve." I took a step closer. "But don't stand here and treat me like an idiot. He was fucking you up against that window. That's not a camera angle." Rachel cried even harder, dropping to her knees and clutching my hand as she begged, "I wasn't trying to steal your husband. I know you've been married for years, and I know you don't like me, so I've always tried to stay out of your way. Sarah, I just haven't been as lucky as you. I don't have anything. I'm just a girl from the projects. I only wanted to hold on to the one chance I finally got." That actually made me laugh. "So riding my husband was your way of holding on to that chance?" I raised my hand again. That was when the door burst open. Marcus took one look at the blood at the corner of Rachel's mouth and pulled her behind him. "Sarah, you need to calm down." I reached for her hair, but Marcus stopped me. In the struggle, I slipped and fell. Something warm and red trickled down between my legs, and terror washed over me. "Sarah, see this little dot here? That's your baby." Just a few hours earlier, with the doctor encouraging me, I'd said a soft hello to the baby on the screen. No. I can't lose this tiny life so soon. ... When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed. Marcus's eyes were bloodshot. "Sarah, babe, we'll have another baby." I closed my eyes and turned my face away. Tears ran down my cheeks into my ears. "I'll end Rachel's contract. She'll be out of that apartment tonight. And I won't see her again." "Get out." He didn't leave. Instead, he took out a folding knife and pressed the blade to his ring finger, just above his wedding band. "I still remember our wedding vows." "Marcus, don't be crazy." Maybe losing the baby had wrecked my judgment. I was desperate to convince myself that he still loved me. If he knew he'd done wrong, if he was scared of losing me too, maybe we could start over. And for a while after that, he really was good to me. That was why, later, when a traitor inside the DeLuca family set up the ambush in Philadelphia, I threw myself in front of him without a second thought. I pressed his gun down so he'd save his last bullet to defend himself, then pushed him away. Only later did I find out that in my second year of captivity, my parents' private jet went down in the Atlantic. By the time I made it back to New York, the Romano family no longer existed. I packed the last photo album, sealed the box, and put a shipping label addressed to Australia on it. Just then, my phone buzzed. Rachel had texted me a photo of her pregnancy test results, along with a few messages. "Marcus and I are having our third baby." "I've never forgotten that slap you gave me. One day, I'm going to make you watch while I take your title." I didn't reply. I just blocked her number, forwarded the messages to my lawyer, and told him to draft the divorce papers as soon as possible. She really was stupid, thinking this would get to me. Once I'd finished with the files, I locked the drawer, lay down on the guest bed, and fell into a deep sleep before sunrise. Half asleep, I felt the mattress sink behind me. A hand slipped under the blanket and settled on my waist. Before I could turn over, familiar body heat pressed against me, along with the smell of cigars and whiskey. It was Marcus. Chapter 4 Sarah's POV: The next second, a pair of big, rough hands turned me over. Quick, hungry kisses landed on my chest. "Babe, I missed you so much." I thought of those pregnancy test results, of him touching her like this, and my stomach turned. "Don't touch me." I pushed his hands away, threw off the blanket, and got out of bed. He called my name, but I'd already rushed into the bathroom. I braced myself on the sink and threw up. "Are you sick?" He followed me in and put a hand on my back. When I saw his face in the mirror, I flinched away. "Get out. I don't want to see you right now." He grabbed my arm and turned me around. My back hit the tiles, and the cold seeped through my thin nightgown. I tried to pull my arm free, but he only held on tighter. "Sarah, look at me. Stop this." Suddenly the scene in front of me blurred into the dark flooded cell. The tiles turned into damp, blackened walls, and Marcus's face disappeared. My hands were tied above my head, the rope cutting into my already raw wrists. Water kept pouring over my face. I couldn't breathe, and all I could hear were their voices ordering me to give up the DeLuca shipping routes. I fought with everything I had and somehow hit the shower handle. Cold water crashed down on us. Marcus's frantic shout nearly split my eardrums. "Enough! This isn't the flooded cell, babe. Look at me. Nobody's going to hurt you." When I met his eyes, I finally snapped out of it and realized I was safe. But my body still wouldn't stop shaking. I hunched my shoulders, trying to cover the soaked nightgown clinging to me. Only then did he let go and step back. He sounded defeated. "Fine. If you want nothing to do with me, I won't force you into anything. Someone will bring you a dry nightgown." He gave me a long, unreadable look, then strode out. For once, Marcus showed up for dinner. He cut into his short ribs, his long fingers steady on the knife. "Rachel's pregnant," he said casually. "Her fans are out of control, so I can't let her live out there alone." It hit me all at once. His affection that morning had been for Rachel's sake. I kept my face blank and answered as if I didn't care, "Of course. After all, she's already given the DeLuca family two heirs. You can move her right into the master bedroom." He glanced at Daniel, who quickly led the servants out of the dining room. A few seconds later, someone set a Rose Lychee Spritz in front of me. Marcus leaned close, his stubbled cheek brushing my neck, and softened his voice. "Babe, I know you've been through so much lately. But I'm going to make it all up to you. I promise. "Rachel's kids were never part of my plan. They're just my responsibility. You're my wife. Nothing changes that." His lips grazed the edge of my ear. "Once she moves into the estate, I'll take you to Milan. Just the two of us. I have a feeling that trip is going to bring you the good news you've been dreaming of." What could I say? The Don who ran New York's biggest mafia operation was practically begging me. If I was foolish enough to fight him, things would only get worse for me. So I gave in, and Rachel moved in soon after. I'd hoped giving in would buy me a few quiet days before I left. It turned out I'd given her too much credit. The day after she moved in, she set me up and claimed I'd pushed her. Rachel sobbed in Marcus's arms. "I know Sarah doesn't want me here, but I never meant to replace her. I'm pregnant, and people keep following me out there... If I'm in her way, I can move out." Marcus held her and gently rubbed her back. "Did you touch her?" "No." "She fell down the stairs, and you were right there. Sarah, I want you to be honest with me." I gave a humorless laugh. "You've already decided what happened. Why bother asking?" The conversation ended badly. That night, I was in the study answering emails from the studio in Sydney when Marcus appeared in the doorway in a tuxedo. "You don't need to come to the charity auction tonight. Rachel's going with me." I shrugged like it was nothing and went back to revising my jewelry designs. I didn't love him anymore, and it was getting easier not to care. Early the next morning, I was woken up by Rachel holding court in the living room. "Ms. Bellini, is that the black opal bracelet you won last night? It's gorgeous!" Howard was laying it on thick. "That's right. It's called the Midnight Garden." The Midnight Garden was a Romano family heirloom. My mother had worn it on her wedding day. She'd once told me it would be mine someday. After my parents died, the Romano family's assets were liquidated, and the bracelet disappeared. It had belonged to my mother, and it was the last shred of my pride. I had to get it back, no matter the cost. I came downstairs, trying to think of how to bring it up. Rachel spotted me and held out her arm to show off the bracelet. "Isn't it pretty?" "That belonged to my mother." I bit my lip, trying to keep my voice calm and respectful. "Oh? Really? But Marcus gave it to me as a reward for getting pregnant." As she said it, she snuggled into Marcus's arms. The whole time, Marcus didn't even look at me. Now I understood. In yesterday's fight, he'd been on Rachel's side all along. That was why he'd taken her to the auction and why he was so cold to me today. He was punishing me. And that trip to Milan he'd promised? He'd never meant to take me. No matter what, I had to get my mother's bracelet back today. After that, nothing here would have anything to do with me. I lifted my chin. "How much did Marcus pay? I'll give you double." "Oh, Sarah, you silly girl. This bracelet stands for Marcus's love for me. Money can't fix that. Unless..." "Unless what?" "Unless you act as my target while I practice shooting at Marcus's private range on Long Island." Chapter 5 Sarah's POV: Even Howard drew a sharp breath. "Ms. Bellini, isn't that a little too dangerous?" Rachel nudged Marcus's shoulder, all sweetness. "Honey, you're the gun expert. What do you think?" Marcus turned to me. "Rachel just wants to play a game with you. She won't hurt you. I'll have Tony, who runs the range, and his security team watch the whole time." Watching them cuddle on the couch, I felt as if they were the real family and I was the outsider. At that moment, I was just glad my lawyer's latest email had come through. I handed him a document. "I'll agree to the game. But since you swear nothing will happen, why don't you sign this safety agreement?" From his expression, I could tell he thought it was ridiculous. I flipped the document to the last page and handed him a pen. He stared at me for two seconds, then took the pen with a sigh and quickly signed his name. "Satisfied?" I took the document back and exhaled in relief. What he didn't know was that the last page of that safety agreement belonged to our divorce papers. The next day, as agreed, Rachel and I went to the shooting range on Long Island. The staff tied my hands and feet to the center of the target. I couldn't stop shaking. Bang! Rachel's first bullet passed right under my arm. Cold sweat soaked my hair. I kept telling myself the same thing. It's okay, Sarah. After today, you'll be free for good. Rachel's soft laugh carried across the range. "Don't be so nervous, Sarah. Didn't you grow up in a mafia family? It's just a gun." Then she had someone blindfold her and lifted the gun with a laugh. "Relax. I'm not like her. I'm just a scaredy-cat civilian. I'm not interested in having anyone's blood on my hands." After the next shot, pain like a red-hot knife sliced across my left hand. A bullet had grazed my ring finger. Rachel pulled off the blindfold. When she saw the blood, she looked even more pleased. "Looks like it's my lucky day." By the time Tony ran over, she'd already handed the gun off to someone else. She shrugged. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't kill her." She walked up and looked at my wounded hand. Of all my fingers, she'd hit the one with my wedding ring. "Go on home, Sarah. The bracelet's yours." I looked down at my wedding ring, stained red with blood. My marriage had started with this ring. It felt right to end it here too. Perfect, really. The driver took me back to the estate. I patched up the wound, then carried the black jewelry box holding the Midnight Garden into the guest room. I packed what I needed in a little over ten minutes. Passport. Bank cards. A few letters my mother had left me. I bought a ticket for the next flight to Sydney. After I boarded and buckled my seat belt, a message came in from my lawyer. "The paperwork is in order. Marcus DeLuca's signature is valid. I'll handle the rest." I smiled, satisfied, and switched my phone to airplane mode. Goodbye to my marriage and all its lies and betrayal.