My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 01

My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 01

I had paid Giuseppe Bianchi a generous salary for ten years.

Thirty-five thousand dollars every month, plus holiday bonuses. I covered his daughter’s tuition, paid for his wife’s surgery, and handled every major expense his family had.

Luca Russo called me wasteful.

I never argued.

Bianchi was solid. Tight-lipped. And his driving was flawless. In ten years, he had never made a single mistake.

More importantly, he was the person who had stayed by Luca Russo’s side the longest.

Even longer than I had.

Today was Bianchi’s retirement day.

I drove him back to his hometown myself. A plain envelope was put in his bag, holding two hundred thousand dollars.

The car stopped beneath an old oak tree in his hometown.

Bianchi got out, unloaded his belongings, then turned around and gave me a firm, respectful nod.

“Mrs. Russo, thank you for everything these past ten years.”

He took a few steps away, then suddenly stopped.

Sunlight fell across his wrinkled face. His expression twisted with hesitation, as if he was fighting with himself.

“Mrs. Russo.”

I lowered the window.

“The trunk of Mr. Russo’s car has a hidden compartment. You should take a look.”

After saying that, he walked away quickly.

I stayed in the driver’s seat, completely still.

The trunk.

The hidden compartment.

A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

The floor mat in Luca Russo’s armored Cadillac had indeed looked uneven before.

I had asked him about it once.

He told me the spare tire was making it sit higher.

I believed him.

For ten years of marriage, I had believed everything he told me.

I didn’t go home immediately.

Instead, I stopped at a café and sat there for twenty minutes.

The coffee went cold.

I didn’t take a single sip.

My mind kept replaying Bianchi’s words.

A man who had been loyal to Luca Russo for a decade chose his last day on the job to deliver that warning.

That meant whatever was hidden in that compartment had weighed on him for a long time.

So long that before leaving, he had finally felt he owed me the truth.

I drove back to Valentino Estate.

The black Cadillac was parked in the garage.

I opened the trunk and ran my fingers along the edge of the floor mat.

There was a seam.

I pulled upward.

Beneath it was a layer of metal plating with a hidden latch along the edge.

I pressed it.

Click.

The compartment opened.

Inside was a black waterproof bag.

I pulled it out and unzipped it.

The first thing inside was a ledger.

Handwritten numbers and coded names filled the pages. Several locations were circled in red ink.

Westside Docks.

Warehouse 7.

The border highway transfer route.

Beside them was a note written in small letters.

“The Irish Mob. Thirty percent cut.”

The second item was a voice recorder.

I pressed the play button.

Luca Russo’s voice came through.

“I make the decisions at Westside Docks. I’ve turned a blind eye to the shipments moving through Warehouse 7, but the accounts don’t go through Valentino’s system.”

Another voice answered, carrying a heavy Irish accent.

“Mr. Russo, what are your terms?”

Luca replied calmly.

“The shipments move through my channels. The money goes into my accounts. At the end of the year, thirty percent goes to Don Enzo’s books. The remaining seventy percent is split between you and me.”

The Irishman laughed softly.

“Does your wife know about this?”

Luca’s answer came without hesitation.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just a woman.”

The recording ended.

The third item was a photograph.

Luca Russo stood outside a church, holding a baby in his arms.

A woman with long brown hair stood beside him.

On the back of the photo was Luca’s handwriting.

“Michael Russo, my son. May God bless you and your mother.”

The stained-glass window behind them carried a symbol.

A shamrock.

The mark of the Irish.

I sat in the driver’s seat.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t shake.

It was like wearing a perfect pair of shoes for ten years, only to realize a nail had been driven through the sole the entire time.

I had walked so steadily that I never felt it.

But now, the nail was right in front of me.

And I had to do something about it.