Hated by All, Loved by None The Mafia Queen’s Rise

The comment section froze the moment my notification chimed—Adrian was calling.

His voice came through irritated, but kept under tight control, the way mafia heirs were trained to sound even when angry.

“Bella, you shouldn’t take my friends’ banter seriously. They were only teasing when they joked around with Veronica and me. Your remark embarrassed them. I get that you’re upset after seeing that post, but please understand—you’ve disappointed my mother again. She expected us to show up together at the Syndicate Gala, and you vanished without explanation. And yes, I missed our anniversary dinner, but unlike you, I actually have operations to oversee. You can’t keep acting out every time you get emotional.”

I stayed silent.

My silence unsettled him—Adrian wasn’t used to being ignored.

“Bella? Why aren’t you saying anything? When you get home, we need to settle this. You should apologize to my mother as soon as possible.”

“…Alright.”

The word scraped out of me like broken glass. I swallowed down the storm of emotions clawing up my throat.

The man whose neglect cost me my child was demanding that I apologize.

“Bella… why aren’t you asking about me? About how I’m doing?”

“There’s no need,” I murmured. “I already know everything I need to know.”

Before he could respond, I hung up, and the dam finally broke—sobs shaking me so hard it felt like grief itself was tearing through my ribs.

My parents—the Mafia King and Queen—had never trusted Adrian. But when they realized how deeply I loved him, they let me choose my own fate.

What a catastrophic choice it turned out to be.

I hailed a taxi and returned to the De Luca estate. Dawn was just breaking when Adrian finally stumbled in, reeking of expensive liquor and smoke from Syndicate lounges. The sound of his uneven steps woke me. He froze when he saw I was awake, scrambling for an excuse he hoped I’d accept.

Wary I might scold him for coming home drunk, he attempted to turn the blame on me.

“Bella… why weren’t you home these past three days?”

I turned my back to him.

“Oh, so now you’re pretending to be angry with me?” he asked, his voice softer, almost cajoling. “No warm soup tonight?”

“I’m exhausted,” I replied coolly.

Startled by my indifference, he sighed and tugged the duvet over me, as if that could erase the widening gulf between us.

“You should take better care of yourself. The baby will inherit my position one day. You need to rest.”

But as he sat beside me, a strong fruity perfume clung to him—Veronica’s signature scent, something every mafia socialite recognized instantly.

My stomach twisted.

Unable to bear it, I stood up, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and headed for the door, tears slipping silently down my cheeks.

“Bella?”

“I can’t sleep here,” I whispered.

I shut the door behind me, leaving him staring at the empty space beside him—confused, but not enough to chase after me.

The next morning, I left for work before he even woke.

During the staff meeting at the syndicate-affiliated corporation I worked for, my boss reviewed assignments.

“This next project is demanding. It’ll require overtime. Comes with a larger budget and a significant bonus. Anyone interested?”

“I’ll take it.”

Several colleagues stared at me, stunned.

My boss hesitated.

“Bella… what about your husband? And… you’re pregnant. We assumed—”

“I’m not expecting anymore,” I said calmly. “I had a miscarriage. So there’s no need for leave.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. The meeting ended almost immediately afterward.

My boss dismissed the others but asked me to stay.

“Bella… I hope I’m not overstepping, but is everything okay at home?”

She folded her hands, choosing her words with care—as one does when speaking about mafia families.

“You’re one of my best. I’ve been wanting to recommend you for promotion for months, but I thought you wouldn’t want to be assigned far from the De Luca territory. But… if it’s something you’d consider, I can transfer you to headquarters in the capital.”

I gave her a gentle, polite smile.

“Thank you. I’d be happy to move.”

She blinked, surprised at my swift decision.

Then her expression turned hesitant again.

“Actually… my husband was at Southwest Bar last night. He overheard Don Adrian talking with his friends.”

My breath stilled. “What did he say?”

“He… talked about the baby. He said that since you’re an orphan, you probably don’t know how to raise a child properly. He asked one of his friends—Veronica—to help him raise the baby.”

Her voice softened. “I’m sorry, Bella. But I would want to know.”

Ice water poured through my veins.

So that’s what he really thought of me.

I forced a trembling smile. “Thank you.”

Just then my phone rang—Adrian again.

“Bella, did you leave early? You shouldn’t push yourself. You’re already well into your second trimester. Didn’t I tell you to quit your job? Also… when I woke up, breakfast wasn’t prepared. Are you eating at all?”

There was concern in his tone, yes—

but it was smothered under irritation, entitlement, and expectation.

I made a noncommittal sound.

He continued, barely pausing:

“Even though I missed our dinner, I got you something.”

“Did you?” I asked flatly.

“You like heart-shaped diamond jewelry, right? I bought a pendant for you. Strange… I can’t seem to find it.”

I heard shuffling, a quiet curse, more fumbling.

“It’s not here…”

Then silence.

Then realization.

I didn’t need to say anything—he already knew I had seen the photo.

Veronica wearing a heart-shaped diamond pendant.

The same pendant he claimed he bought for me.

He cleared his throat.

“I must’ve misplaced it.”

“No need,” I replied. “I didn’t get you anything either.”

“Bella, this attitude… since you can’t do much around the estate, I at least expect you to manage the house, cook properly, and look presentable. Stop acting like this is something huge.”

“You’re right. It was never important,” I whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks.

He had bought me a gift.

He just let his childhood sweetheart wear it first.

“I guess I can’t ever meet your expectations,” I said quietly. “And Adrian? My favorite stones have always been sapphires. I’ve never worn diamonds in my life.”

I ended the call before he could speak.