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4 A.M. Heartbreak Novel Cover

4 A.M. Heartbreak

When Rocco Falcone wakes his wife Alessia at 4:00 a.m., it isn't for romance, but to demand she cook for his pregnant mistress, Scarlett. As the family's lawyer, Alessia is stunned by her husband's blatant disrespect and his insistence that she serve his heir's mother. Facing his cold ultimatum to either obey or lose her prestigious position, Alessia realizes her love is dead. Instead of submitting, she makes a fateful call to exit the crime family for good.
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Chapter 2

For years, I had handled hundreds of millions in legal transactions for the family, not to mention countless multi-million dollar money laundering operations.

In the end, my personal cut was zero.

How ironic.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in my forehead, I stood up and called Rocco.

He let it ring three times before he finally answered, his voice crackling with impatience.

The call connected on the third ring. "Alessia, my love," his voice was a warm purr, "You know I'm busy. I hope the call is more important than what I'm doing right now."

I cut straight to the point. I had decided to leave, but I wasn't about to give up my hard-earned money.

I had earned it.

"Rocco, that five million dollars. That was my personal cut."

"I've invested it," he said, his tone patient, as if explaining something to a child.

With woman giggled in the background, he continued, "A stake in a new Vegas casino. Think of it as compensation for Scarlett."

"An apology isn't enough for what you did, Alessia. You know that. "

"Actions have consequences. I've defended you time and time again, but you went too far. "

"This is a chance for you to be mature. The money is still working for the family. You should be happy about that."

For a moment, I was speechless, but mostly, I found my own blind loyalty laughable.

"Have you forgotten about the port control rights and the money laundering channels I secured for the family?"

"What right do you have to squander the money I earned?"

"Alessia," his voice dropped, becoming a low, intimate growl. "Your body, your money and your very thoughts, they all belong to me. Did you forget that?"

I heard Scarlett murmur something in the background, asking in a playful, teasing voice, "So, what about my body? What do you think of it?"

Rocco chuckled, "It's exquisite, but be quiet for a moment. I'm calming my wife."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. "What if I told you I'm pregnant, too?"

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

Then Rocco's voice came through.

He sighed, a sound of weary patience. "Alessia, my love, I know how much you want a child. We both do. But that isn't a reason to invent fantasies. You should get some rest."

"I can't believe you'd invent something like that just for money. "

"But if you're so desperate for money, fine, I'm not completely heartless."

A notification popped up on my phone.

A transfer of one thousand dollars. Not even enough to cover one of Scarlett's dinners.

I quietly hung up.

My hand trembled as I reached into my purse, my fingers closing around the pregnancy test I'd hidden there for days.

Two distinct pink lines.

I had thought the same, that I was broken forever after the bullet meant for him had taken our child and my ability to conceive.

But a sudden bout of morning sickness last week, which I'd mistaken for the flu, had led to a miraculous discovery.

Since you only want her child, I thought, a bitter resolve hardening in my chest, then I'll take mine and disappear.

Not long after, I got a call from Scarlett.

She chuckled, a smug delight in her voice. "Dear Mrs. Falcone, you didn't know, did you?"

"The night you had your miscarriage surgery three years ago, do you know where Rocco was?"

The hand holding the phone began to tremble.

"Rocco was with me all day. He took me out on his private yacht, and at night we watched the city lights from a helicopter."

"Oh, and I forgot to mention, Rocco bought me a pink helicopter for my birthday."

"What can I say? Rocco told me he treats me like a queen."

My phone slipped from my palm and crashed onto the floor.

It was only after Scarlett told me all this that I finally understood.

That night, as I lay bleeding and in agony on the operating table, Rocco's phone was turned off.

While the doctor was telling me I could never be a mother again, he was promising to buy his maid a helicopter.

"Why so quiet?" Scarlett's voice grew sharper. "Did you really think you were so important, Alessia?"

I wanted to hang up, but then I heard Rocco's voice in the background. "Sweetheart, who are you talking to? Come here."

Then I heard Scarlett's voice, feigning innocence. "Oh, I was just talking to myself, Rocco. I was just wondering..."

"If Alessia ever found out about what happened three years ago, I hope she wouldn't be too angry with you."

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