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His Unwanted Mute Wife: Now His Obsession Novel Cover

His Unwanted Mute Wife: Now His Obsession

Dante Vitiello, the King of New York, wed a mute fisherman's daughter only to treat her like a prisoner. To favor his mistress, he drained his wife's blood and left her to rot in a dungeon. To escape his cruelty, she consumed toxin to faked her death. Waking a year later, she finds the truth has surfaced. To atone for his sins, Dante played a lethal game of Russian Roulette. He signed their divorce and pulled the trigger, finally setting her free.
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Chapter 2

Sienna POV

The night air was thick with humidity, clinging to my skin like a second layer when I met Gia by the service entrance.

She didn't say a word.

She just pressed a small, cold vial into my palm.

It looked like water.

But I knew better. It was liquid death.

"One drop slows your heart," she whispered, her eyes darting through the darkness, scanning for Dante's guards. "The whole vial stops it. You have a window of four minutes before you hit the floor."

I squeezed her hand.

Thank you.

I slipped back into the estate, the glass vial burning a phantom hole in my pocket.

I needed to hide it.

I was heading toward my bedroom when Valeria stepped out of the shadows.

She was holding a glass of red wine, swirling the dark liquid casually.

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Where have you been, little mute?" she asked.

I tried to step around her.

She blocked my path.

"Dante is in the shower," she said, leaning against the wall with practiced ease. "He told me how you begged for your parents. Pathetic."

I clenched my jaw.

I raised my hands and signed, Get out of my way.

She laughed.

"Or what? You'll wave your hands at me?"

Her eyes flicked toward the hallway, listening.

Suddenly, she threw the wine.

Not at me.

She hurled it at the wall behind her.

The glass shattered on impact. Red liquid splashed everywhere, looking horrifyingly like a crime scene.

Then she screamed.

"Help! Dante! She's crazy!"

She threw herself onto the floor amidst the broken glass, deliberately slicing her palm on a shard.

Footsteps thundered down the hall.

Dante appeared, a towel wrapped low around his waist, water still dripping from his chest.

He saw the wine. The glass. Valeria bleeding on the floor.

"She locked me in!" Valeria sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She tried to push me into the wine cellar and lock the door! She's jealous, Dante! She's insane!"

Dante turned to me.

His face was a mask of terrifying calm.

I shook my head violently.

Liar, I signed frantically. She is lying.

Dante didn't even glance at my hands.

He looked only at the blood on Valeria's palm.

"I told you to accept her," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I told you to behave."

He grabbed my arm.

He didn't drag me to the bedroom.

He hauled me through the kitchen, past the stainless steel counters, to the heavy industrial door at the back.

The walk-in freezer.

The Vitiello front business was seafood distribution.

The estate kitchen was always stocked.

Dante threw the door open.

A blast of sub-zero air hit me like a physical blow.

It smelled of ozone and dead fish.

My stomach lurched.

The smell took me back to the docks. To the scaling knives. To the blood under my fingernails that I could never scrub away.

"You like to act like a gutter rat?" Dante snarled, shoving me inside. "Then you can cool off with the rest of the inventory."

I stumbled back, falling onto a crate of frozen halibut.

The cold bit through my thin silk dress instantly, seeping into my bones.

"Dante!" I tried to scream, but only a choked gasp came out.

I scrambled to the door, pounding on the metal.

He stood on the other side, unmoving.

"Think about respect, Sienna," he said.

Then he slammed the heavy door shut.

The latch clicked.

Darkness swallowed me.

The only light came from the small temperature gauge on the wall.

It read -10 degrees.

I curled into a ball on the metal floor, shivering violently.

The smell of fish was suffocating.

It coated my tongue.

It filled my lungs.

I wasn't the Don's wife in here.

I was just the fisherman's daughter again.

Worthless.

Disposable.

I touched the vial in my pocket.

It was the only warm thing left in my world.

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