Jilted Wife? I Am The Underworld Boss

Lucia POV

"Assault! The ex-wife is hitting people! Help!" Mrs. Vance screamed at the top of her lungs.

Heavy footsteps rushed down the hallway inside the house. Simon emerged into the daylight, holding a newborn infant against his chest.

Rachel tore her hand from my grasp, leaving angry red welts on her skin. She rushed to Simon's side, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Hubby," she whimpered, pressing her face against his shoulder.

Simon looked up. A muscle near Simon's eye began to twitch, and a fine, oily sheen of sweat coated his forehead, catching the morning light.

His lips trembled. "Lucia."

My gaze dropped from his terrified eyes to the child in his arms.

"How old?" I asked. The air, thick with the cloying sweetness of baby powder and the raw scent of overturned earth, stung the back of my throat.

Simon's arms tightened around the infant, a purely animal reflex, and he took an unsteady step back.

"How did a child appear in my home during my absence?" I asked, stepping closer. "And whose is it?"

Rachel puffed out her chest, provocatively stroking the baby's wispy head. "The child is mine. And Simon's."

Simon remained a statue of silence. He looked like a coward waiting for a storm to pass.

I surveyed my desecrated home. The gaudy playground. The missing roses. The strange women standing on my porch.

"Simon," I said, and though I did not raise my volume, the final syllable of my question seemed to scrape against the cheap plastic of the children's slide, making the wind itself sound shrill. "Did you sell my house?"

He refused to meet my eyes. He stared at the dirt where my mother's garden used to be.

"Lucia, let's go inside and talk about this privately," he muttered.

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "You want privacy now? Why did you not speak up when she called you her husband?"

Rachel sneered at me. "Because this house and this man belong to me now. Get lost."

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the real estate broker.

Ten minutes later, Manager Lee rushed into the courtyard. He was clutching a leather folder full of contracts, beads of sweat collecting at his collar despite the morning's damp chill.

I turned to him. "When did I ever authorize the sale of this estate?"

Lee froze. He glanced nervously between Rachel and Simon, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Rachel smiled calmly. "Tell her, Lee. Explain everything so she will stop throwing a tantrum on my property."

"Show me," I demanded.