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After Her Divorce, She Inherited the Mafia Empire Novel Cover

After Her Divorce, She Inherited the Mafia Empire

After enduring a disrespectful courier who bled her family accounts dry, the protagonist retaliates by stripping her of funds and leaving her publicly disgraced at Cresthaven's most exclusive establishment. Her husband, Enzo, seemingly brushes off the incident with deceptive warmth. However, on her birthday, his true colors emerge. Under the guise of a lavish celebration at the very same restaurant, Enzo deserts her, leaving her stranded with frozen Gambetti family accounts and a cold, empty chair.
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Chapter 2

Enzo watched me with that same mocking smile carved into his face like a death mask. "Stop looking at me like you're planning where to bury the body, cara mia. If you've got the cash, settle up and walk out of here with whatever's left of your dignity."

"Ha! What cash? She couldn't cover this tab if her life hung in the balance."

"The food, the wine they've already opened—she'd choke on the number before she could speak it."

"She's been living off the Gambetti family's tribute this whole time. Without the Boss, she's nothing but a pretty face with empty pockets."

To ensure my degradation was absolute, Enzo rose from his chair with a cold laugh that echoed off the private room's mahogany walls. His gaze swept across the assembled guests like a blade across throats.

"Anyone who helps Celestina out of this mess becomes my enemy—and an enemy of the Gambetti Family."

The words hung in the air like gunsmoke. Everyone in Cresthaven knew the Gambettis controlled half the city's territory. No one with a survival instinct would dare cross the Acting Boss in his own domain.

A few associates I'd cultivated relationships with over the years shifted in their seats, hands moving toward their breast pockets—ready to step forward, to show respect where respect was owed.

But the moment Enzo's threat landed, they froze. Their hands retreated. Their eyes dropped to their plates. Terrified he might remember their faces.

"See? The Boss doesn't make idle threats."

"He's protecting his little courier harder than he ever protected his own wife."

"Exactly. I thought being his legitimate bride would count for something—that this was just a message, a warning. But this? This is a severance."

"After that declaration, who's going to risk their standing for her?"

I lost control. I crossed the room in three strides and seized Enzo's arm, my fingers digging into the fine wool of his suit. "Enzo, are you really going to humiliate me like this—in front of everyone—for some scheming puttana who climbed out of the gutter and into your bed?"

Enzo's lip curled. His hand moved faster than I could track.

Crack.

The backhand sent me stumbling. My cheek burned like he'd pressed a lit cigarette to my skin.

"Yes."

I turned back to face him, my vision swimming, barely able to comprehend what had just happened.

Three years of marriage. Three years of playing the devoted wife while the Gambetti name rose from street-level enforcers to one of Cresthaven's most feared families. We were famous for being the perfect couple—the ruthless young Boss and his elegant bride.

He was the one who pursued me when I first arrived in Cresthaven. Relentless. Obsessive. He'd sent flowers every day for six months. Had his men shadow me "for protection." Showed up at my door with a ring and a promise that felt like a blood oath.

At our wedding, surrounded by capos and consiglieri from a dozen allied families, he'd made vows—swore on his mother's grave that he'd be faithful until they put him in the ground beside her. That I was his and he was mine until the end of all things.

And now? Three years later, every promise, every whispered devotion, every memory of the man I thought I'd married—shattered by the cold cruelty in his eyes.

Just like the old wives always warned: marry into a Family with nothing but beauty and a false name, and you'll never have true standing. The moment someone younger and hungrier crawls into his bed, your life as a Boss's wife is finished.

But Enzo had no idea. When I married into the Gambetti clan, I wasn't after their territory or their tribute. I married him because I loved him—the man I thought existed beneath the violence.

Facing my bloodshot eyes, Enzo pulled a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and turned away with deliberate dismissal. He wiped the hand that had struck me as though cleaning off something distasteful.

"You knew I valued that courier. You knew she was under my protection. And you still had to push."

He tucked the handkerchief away and met my gaze with eyes as cold as the obsidian floors of his father's study.

"Celestina, if you can't settle this bill, I'll have the manager strip you bare and throw you into the street like a common sgualdrina. Let all of Cresthaven see what becomes of a woman who forgets her place."

The room erupted in murmurs. Every eye fixed on me—some filled with mockery, others with a darker hunger.

"The Boss is really going all out—making his own wife crawl out naked for the new girl."

"Can you believe it? A public degradation. This is a message."

"She won't be his wife by sunrise. After tonight, she's nobody. Less than nobody."

"Silenzio. Let's just watch."

The older capos leaned back in their chairs, amusement playing across their weathered faces. One of them—a man who controlled the docks and had shaken my hand at a dozen family dinners—let his gaze travel down my body with undisguised interest.

"I want to see if she's got the curves to match all that pride."

My face burned with humiliation so complete it felt like drowning.

Enzo had taken my spending rights before we left the estate, catching me completely off guard. A casual request to "hold onto" my access to the family accounts. I'd thought nothing of it.

All I had was the designer gown on my back—silk and lace worth more than most people earned in a month, but utterly worthless as currency. I had no way to pay.

And my phone was dead. The battery had been full when we left. That's when the final piece clicked into place—Enzo had planned every moment of this evening. The dinner. The guests. The timing. Even the dead phone.

This wasn't a lover's quarrel. This was an execution.

Silvana's painted lips curved into a smile of pure triumph from her place at Enzo's side.

"It's getting late, Celestina." Enzo's voice carried the bored finality of a man pronouncing sentence. "The restaurant is waiting for you to settle your debt so they can close for the evening. Unless you'd prefer the alternative."

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