My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 02

My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 02

I got home at nine that night.

Luca Russo had already returned.

The scent of cigars clung to him, mixed with a sweet perfume I didn’t recognize.

He said there had been “an issue at the club,” then went upstairs.

I sat in front of the fireplace in the living room.

On the wall hung a photograph of Don Enzo.

Silver hair.

A cigar between his fingers.

Eyes sharp as an eagle’s.

The Valentino family’s empire had been built over three generations.

Westside Docks.

Eastside Casino.

North Highway.

When Don Enzo turned sixty, he brought Luca Russo into the family’s inner circle.

“He has a sharp mind,” Don Enzo had said.

I was twenty-two when Don Enzo asked if I was willing to marry him.

I said yes.

Ten years had passed.

Don Enzo had retired, and Luca Russo had taken over the position of Acting Don.

I picked up my phone and sent a message to Vivian Ferraro.

[Tomorrow. Same place.]

The next morning, we met in the most secluded booth at the café.

Vivian Ferraro was already there.

She wore a black turtleneck sweater, and the gold earrings hanging from her ears had belonged to her mother.

Her mother had been the daughter of the Valentino family’s previous Consigliere.

Vivian was the only daughter of the Consigliere family.

She was the person everyone went to when they needed information, legal strategy, or someone investigated.

There was practically no one she couldn’t track down and no account she couldn’t crack open.

I pushed my phone across the table.

The screen showed the ledger pages, screenshots of the recording transcript, and the church photograph.

Vivian looked through everything carefully.

When she finished, she placed the phone down.

Her knuckles had turned white.

“Sofia, what are you planning to do?”

“Three things.”

I raised three fingers.

“First, investigate every offshore transfer Luca Russo has made over the past three years. Find out which shell companies he used and who helped him clean the money.”

“Second, find every record of his meetings with The Irish Mob. When did they start? Who was the middleman?”

“Third, Fiona O’Malley.”

I looked at the photograph.

“The woman with brown hair. I need to know whether she’s a spy planted by The Irish Mob or someone he’s been keeping on the side.”

Vivian picked up a pen and wrote a few notes on a napkin.

“Three days.”

“Three days to get everything?”

She nodded.

“And then what?”

I stood up and buttoned my coat.

“Next month is the Feast of the Seven Fishes.”

After Don Enzo retired, Luca Russo had hosted the event every year.

Every Capo in the family would be there.

“That night, I’ll make everyone see exactly what the Underboss they’ve followed for ten years is really worth.”

When I returned to Main House, I went straight into his closet.

Twenty-seven suits.

Every fabric had been chosen by me.

I knew what was in every pocket.

I knew which ones he wore for meetings, which ones he wore for family events, and which ones he preferred when he needed to appear untouchable.

Inside the pocket of the third navy cashmere suit, I found a business card.

Thick paper.

Gold embossed edges.

A name and phone number I didn’t recognize.

But beneath the name was a symbol.

A shamrock.

The mark of The Irish Mob.

I took a picture and sent it to Vivian.

Then I placed the card back exactly where I had found it.

I walked to the vanity and sat down.

The woman staring back at me in the mirror was thirty-five years old.

There were two new fine lines at the corners of her eyes.

Ten years ago, I thought I had married a man who could protect the Valentino family.

Ten years later, I found a contact card from The Irish Mob hidden inside his suit.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

It rang for a long time before someone answered.

“Sofia?”

The voice was deep and rough, like aged whiskey sealed away for decades.

“Don Enzo, I need your ring.”

Silence filled the other end of the line.

Don Enzo’s ring.

The ring belonging to the Don of the Valentino family.

When he stepped down, he hadn’t handed it to Luca Russo.

Instead, he had said:

“When you’re ready, come find me.”

The ring carried the Valentino family crest.

A serpent wrapped around a blade.

A symbol of loyalty, caution, and a fatal strike when the moment came.

“What happened?”

Don Enzo’s voice grew heavier.

“Luca Russo is doing business with The Irish Mob.”

I spoke slowly.

“Westside Docks. Warehouse 7. North Highway. He gave them our Territory routes in exchange for a cut.”

There was silence for several seconds.

“You have proof?”

“Yes.”

I looked at the evidence spread across the table.

“The ledger. The recording. The photograph. And the contact card from The Irish Mob that I found in his suit pocket.”

“Vivian is investigating?”

“She’ll have results in three days.”

“Good.”

Don Enzo’s voice came through the phone.

“The ring isn’t with me. It’s in the second drawer of my study safe. The password is your mother’s date of death.”

I didn’t speak.

“Next to the ring, there’s another document.”

His voice lowered.

“Your father’s Letter of Disposal.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“The contents are blank. It only carries the Valentino family wax seal and my signature.”

“You know what it can do.”

I knew.

The highest authority document in the family.

Signed by the Don.

Sealed with the family wax.

The person holding it could write down the name and crime of a traitor and carry out punishment without needing another vote from The Commission.

“Don Enzo…”

“Don’t.”

His voice interrupted me.

“Come get it. After that, do whatever you need to do.”

“What about The Commission?”

“Valentino was built by your great-grandfather’s gun, not by votes from The Commission.”

He paused.

“Take what belongs in your hands. Once you have it, the votes won’t matter.”

Then his voice softened slightly.

“Sofia, before your father died, he told me something.”

I stayed silent.

“He said passing Valentino to a woman would still be better than handing it to an outsider.”

A bitter smile touched my lips.

“Making me marry Luca Russo was Grandpa’s mistake.”

“No.”

Don Enzo sighed.

“His mistake was believing Luca Russo was the man he pretended to be.”

“He wasn’t wrong about you.”

“He was wrong about Luca.”

“Ten years of acting.”

Don Enzo’s voice turned cold.

“Then it’s time for the performance to end.”

The call ended.

Five minutes later, Vivian’s message came through.

[The card has been checked. The name is fake, but the number belongs to The Irish Mob’s Westside branch contact line. The earliest record of Luca Russo’s contact with them goes back four years.]

Four years.

That was the year I had helped him deliver the financial reports to Don Enzo.

The year he had looked me in the eyes and said:

“Every dollar from our Territory is accounted for.”

Now I knew.

The money that wasn’t in the books had gone straight into the Irishman’s pockets.

I replied:

[Three days is too long. Two.]

Vivian answered almost immediately.

[Got it.]

I put down my phone and closed the curtains.

Outside the window was the lawn of Valentino Estate.

Far in the distance was the road leading toward Eastside Casino.

Autumn leaves covered the ground.

The ring.

The Letter of Disposal.

The evidence arriving in two days.

And then the Feast of the Seven Fishes.

Luca Russo.

You had spent ten years performing.

It was time for the curtain to fall.