ella

with Hudson's bruised ego. By the time we entered our master bedroom,

uiet house. He didn't turn on the main lights. The room, decorated with the

d toward me, his hands grasping my shoulders, shaking me slightly as if to wake me from a nightmare he had orchestr

error of a naive girl. "But Hudson... you're my husband," I whisper

make me comfort him for his own betrayal. "It was Freddie Solis. The Consigliere came to me yesterday. He said the Don had seen y

i

ddie Solis, the Falcone family's terrifying Consigliere, had forced Hudson's hand. But I knew better now. Solis di

Hudson wept, his tears soaking through the silk

is confession was too much to bear. My fingers brushed against the cold silver o

ooked shattered, her eyes hollow. "Then I am ruined," I murmured, lifting the sh

from my hand. He threw it across the floor and pulled me into a cru

en to me, Isabella. This... arrangement. It stays between us and the Don. No one else will ever know. I swear it on

, collapsing against h

issing the top of my hea

cold sneer that curled my lips. I believed

ing. He slept soundly, unburdened by conscience, believing he ha

darkness pressing down on me. His vow of secrec

with the force o

g room, clutching a glass of water, trying to make myself invisible. Hud

losing.

ar across his nose, leered at me.

g grin plastering his face. "She's not lonely. She's serving the fam

n basked in it. He didn't protect my honor; he spent it like currenc

me, my reputation, and eventually, the lives of my mother and daughter. He would do it again.

k was exposed, vulnerable. It would be so easy to end him

chaos? Fine. I would be the one

row, the Devil of Chicago was sending a car for me. And this time, I wouldn'