His Unwanted Wife, The Rival Don's Queen

Haven POV

The file hit the mahogany desk with a heavy, final thud.

It had taken the PI three days to compile everything.

Three agonizing days wherein Connor had barely spoke to me, far too busy managing the fallout of the ambush and comforting the so-called poor victim.

With trembling hands, I opened the folder.

The evidence was damning. Photos of Gemma meeting with a Capo from the George crime family. Bank transfers routing offshore funds. Territory maps found buried deep in her cloud storage.

She wasn't just a mole.

She was the architect of the ambush that had almost killed me.

I didn't wait for Connor to come home.

I tracked Gemma's phone signal instantly.

She was at our private club, using the indoor pool.

The sheer audacity of it stole the breath from my lungs.

I took two of my personal guards-men who were loyal to the paycheck I signed, not the oath Connor swore.

We marched into the pool area.

The air was thick with oppressive humidity and the sharp sting of chlorine.

Gemma was floating on a pink raft, wearing a bikini that cost more than her father's car.

She looked up and saw me. But she didn't look scared.

She smirked.

"Hey, Haven," she called out, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Connor said you were resting. Is the baby okay? Or did you lose it like you lost his attention?"

Red vision clouded my sight.

"Grab her," I ordered.

My guards didn't hesitate.

They waded into the water, silent and efficient. They flipped the raft and dragged her screaming to the edge.

They hauled her onto the wet tiles.

I kicked a folded towel onto her face.

"Hold her down."

One guard pinned her arms, the other her legs.

I grabbed a bucket of pool water.

"You want to play games, Gemma?" I asked, my voice deadly calm. "Let's play."

I poured the water over the towel covering her face.

She thrashed.

She choked.

It was crude waterboarding, but effective.

I stopped the flow.

"Who do you work for?" I demanded.

She coughed, sputtering water from her lungs.

"Go to hell," she wheezed.

I poured again.

This time longer.

Her body convulsed violently against the tiles.

Suddenly, the doors to the pool deck burst open.

"Haven!"

Connor sprinted across the tiles.

He didn't look at me. He didn't ask why.

He tackled the guard holding her arms with the force of a linebacker.

"Get off her!" he roared.

Gemma ripped the towel off her face, gasping for air, and instantly transforming into the victim.

"She tried to kill me!" she screamed, crawling toward Connor like a wounded animal. "She is crazy!"

Connor wrapped his arms around her, shielding her body with his own.

He looked up at me with pure hatred burning in his eyes.

"What is wrong with you?" he shouted. "She is a civilian!"

"She is a rat, Connor!" I yelled back.

I grabbed the file from the table and threw the photos at him.

They scattered across the wet floor like confetti.

"Look at them! She set us up! She is working for the George family!"

He didn't even look down.

He kicked the photos into the pool.

"I don't care!" he screamed. "You crossed a line, Haven. You are becoming a monster."

A sudden pain sliced through my abdomen.

Sharp.

Hot.

I doubled over, clutching my stomach.

"Connor," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Something is wrong."

He stood up, lifting Gemma into his arms bridal style.

She buried her face in his chest, sobbing fake tears.

"Stay away from her," Connor warned me, his voice ice cold. "If you come near her again, I will forget you are my wife."

He turned and walked away.

The photos of her betrayal floated on the surface of the blue water, dissolving slowly into nothingness.

I fell to my knees.

A dark crimson flower of blood bloomed on the white tiles between my legs.