A Traitor's Debt

"Honey, are you sure you want to go to the party tonight?" Vincent asked, fixing his tie. "If you're not feeling well, I can make your excuses."

"I'm fine," I said, applying lipstick in the mirror. "Besides, I want to see your new club. I hear you've got some new faces."

Vincent's hands paused for a second before he went back to his tie.

"Nothing special. Just some new staff."

"I heard a girl named Carmen is a real crowd-pleaser."

"I don't really keep track of names," he said, turning to kiss my cheek. "Come on, let's go. Don't sweat the small stuff."

In the car, I pushed a little more.

"Vincent, I was thinking we should buy a villa in Malibu. I hear the oceanfront properties are a great investment."

"Malibu?" His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "That's too far. The house we have is big enough."

"But I've seen so many of our friends buying property there. You can get a nice place with an ocean view for around eight hundred thousand."

Vincent almost slammed on the brakes.

"Eight hundred thousand? That's a very specific number. You been looking at a place already?"

"Just spitballing," I said, patting his hand with a smile. "Why so jumpy?"

"I'm not. I just don't think we need a house that big right now."

When we arrived at the nightclub, I told him I wanted a tour.

"It's just a club, Isabella. Nothing to see," Vincent tried to stop me.

"I'm the boss's wife, aren't I? Is it so strange for me to look at my own property?"

Vincent must have been afraid of making a scene, because he didn't argue.

In the hallway leading to the private booths, I saw her.

Carmen Rodriguez. Younger and prettier than in her photos. More brazen. She was wearing a tight red dress, her small baby bump obvious. The diamond bracelet sparkled on her wrist.

The one Vincent gave her.

"Vincent, that girl's bracelet is beautiful. Looks familiar, too."

"What bracelet? I didn't notice." He wouldn't even look in her direction.

"Why don't you introduce me? I'd love to meet our 'star employee'."

"Isabella, we should go," Vincent said, pulling at my arm, desperate to escape.

I wasn't about to let him off that easy.

I pulled my arm free and held out my hand to Carmen, a friendly smile on my face. "Hello, I'm Isabella Marconi. Vincent's wife."

Vincent had no choice but to force a stiff smile. "This is Carmen. She's one of our popular… dancers."

I saw the jealousy and bitterness in her eyes.

But she managed a tight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Romano."

My gaze drifted down to her wrist, and I spoke casually. "That's a lovely bracelet. It suits you." I barely hid a smirk. On her salary, that bracelet would take her ten years to earn.

Carmen quickly tried to hide the bracelet with her other hand, her eyes darting toward Vincent. "Thank you, ma'am…"

Her acting skills needed work.

I pretended not to see the look they exchanged, then took his arm and glided away.

I could feel Carmen's eyes burning a hole in my back.

Good. Panic. Get angry. You'll only make more mistakes.

Midway through the party, I excused myself to the restroom.

As I passed the VIP lounge, I heard Carmen on the phone.

"The baby's healthy. The doctor said we'll see Daddy in five more months." She was rubbing her belly. "Vincent is so good to me. I just mentioned I wanted a necklace, and he said he'd give me the Marconi family necklace, hahaha… As soon as the baby's born, he's going to divorce that old woman. Then I'll be the real Mrs. Romano."

I pushed the door open.

When Carmen saw me, her face went white.

"Congratulations on the pregnancy," I said with a small smile. "The father must be thrilled."

"Yes…" her voice trembled.

"How lucky for you." I wasn't ready to show my hand yet; a little tap was enough to make her panic. "But a word of advice, Carmen. Smart girls know what's not theirs for the taking. You can want it all you like, but it will never be yours."

I turned and left her alone in the lounge.

Back home, while Vincent was in the shower, I snuck into his private office again.

Inside the safe, behind the cash and documents, was a small box.

It held the Marconi family diamond necklace—an heirloom I gave him when we married.

I held it up to the moonlight. The diamonds threw off a cold, hard light.

Vincent was planning to give my family's legacy to his mistress. This wasn't just a betrayal of me. It was an insult to the entire Marconi family.

I closed my hand around the necklace, feeling the sharp edges dig into my palm.

"You made the wrong choice, Vincent. And I won't give you the chance to regret it."