Beneath the Roses: A Mafia’s Wife

Isabella's POV

The house is bustling with guests within ten minutes, the atmosphere humming with the chatter of Marco’s family and their associates. I stand by the sofa, holding Leonardo close.

Giovanni’s urgent call pulls him away, and he apologizes. “Bella, I have to go. Can you handle this? Marco attacked one of my places. His men are overpowering mine due to a sudden attack.” I look at Marco and his smirks are proof that it’s true.

I nod, even though fear gnaws at my insides. “I’ll manage, Bro.” Deep down, I dread being left alone with Marco’s family.

Marco’s sister, Lyra, approaches me, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Well, well, if it isn’t the sad little wife,” she sneers. “Still clinging to hope, Isabella?”

I force a smile. “Oh, Lyra, I was wondering how you managed to stay relevant. Clearly, sarcasm is your only skill.”

Her eyes flash with anger. “At least I’m not the one insulting the family.”

"So didn't I yet," I replied clenching my jaw.

"Oh really! Look at you. Head to toe is an unwanted piece. I don't know how Marco picked you to be his queen. I am glad he changed his choice, otherwise, standing beside you is so embarrassing. Alas! None is allowing the divorce." Leandro is quite unable to understand anything.

I grip my glass of red wine tighter, my knuckles white. “Embarrassing? Do you mean like you did when you tripped at your own engagement party? That was quite the spectacle.”

She steps closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. “You’re nothing but a burden to Marco. Everyone knows it. Additionally, I doubt Marco being this kid's father. May I know the real name of Leonadro's father? Trust me, it will be our secret.”

That’s it. My patience snaps like a taut wire. I lift my glass and pour the red wine over her head. Gasps ripple through the room as the dark liquid cascades down her hair, staining her expensive dress.

“What the—” Lyra sputters, but I’m not done.

I grab a nearby baguette, shoving it towards her mouth. “Here, Lyra, maybe this will shut you up for once.”

Chaos erupts. Guests scramble to get out of the way as Lyra flails, trying to dodge the baguette. I feel a twisted sense of satisfaction as I watch her humiliated in front of everyone.

“You’ve lost your mind!” Lyra screams, but her voice is drowned out by the commotion.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. This is it. No more meek and humble Isabella. I look around the room, the crowd is silent and stunned.

“Listen up!” I shout, my voice cutting through the noise. “I’m done with this charade. Marco and I are getting a divorce!”

The room falls into a hushed shock. Marco’s face turns ashen, his eyes wide. He tries to maintain his composure, but the humiliation is evident.

“What did you just say?” Marco’s voice is low and dangerous.

“I said we’re getting a divorce,” I repeat, louder this time. “I won’t be your puppet anymore, Marco. I won’t let you or your family control me.”

Leonardo tugs at my dress, his eyes filled with confusion. “Mama, what’s divorce?”

My heart breaks at his innocent question. I kneel down, holding his small hands in mine. “Divorce means Papa and I won’t live together anymore, sweetheart. But I’ll always be with you. I promise.”

Tears well up in his eyes, and he starts to sob. “No, Mama, don’t go!”

I pull him into my arms, my own tears spilling over. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Mama’s here.”

Marco strides over, fury etched into his features. “You’re not taking him anywhere, Isabella.”

I stand up, still holding Leonardo. “Watch me.”

His bodyguards step forward, blocking my path. “You’re not leaving,” Marco says coldly.

I clutch Leonardo tighter, my anger boiling over. “You think you can keep me here like a prisoner? I’m done obeying you, Marco.”

Marco’s mother, standing nearby, raises her voice. “This is for the family’s reputation, Isabella. You need to think of what’s best for everyone.”

I laugh bitterly. “Reputation? You lied about Leonardo’s health to manipulate me. I won’t play along with your sick games anymore.”

The room is a blur of faces, all watching with bated breath. I turn to leave, but the bodyguards hold their ground. “Move,” I command, but they don’t budge.

Leonardo’s cries pierce the air, a heart-wrenching sound that echoes through the room. “Mama, no! Don’t leave!”

I look into his tear-streaked face, my heart-shattering. “I’m not leaving you, Leonardo. I’ll fight for you.”

Marco steps closer, his face inches from mine. “You’ll regret this, Isabella.”

“Maybe,” I say, my voice steady. “But I’d rather regret fighting for my son than regret letting you control my life. You are nothing but a control freak, a bad husband, and the worst father in history.” I was emitting poison through my words.

The tension is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Guests were shuttle cocking their gazes. Marco’s family murmurs, clearly unsettled by my words.

The guests start to leave, whispering amongst themselves. The humiliation for Marco is complete. He keeps talking to the guests, trying to salvage his dignity, but who cares for my condition? They want me to be a flower vase in the mansion, obedient to everything Marco dictates.

As I try to leave with Leonardo, Marco’s bodyguards block my path. I hold my son tightly, but they forcefully pry him from my arms. “Mama, no!” Leonardo cries, his tiny hands clutching at my dress.

“Let him go!” I scream, my voice breaking. “He’s my son!”

Leonardo hugs my legs, his tears soaking through my clothes. “Mama, don’t leave me! Mama!”

The bodyguards pull him away, his cries piercing my heart. They grab my arms, holding me back as I struggle. “Leonardo!” I sob, my heart shattering. Marco indicates them to separate us.

“Mama! Mama!” His cries echo through the villa as they drag him away from me. It was my limit.

I snatch a pistol from the bodyguard and point at Marco. I won’t let him take my son away from me.

Never!!!