The Discarded Wife's Revenge On The Don

Alyssa Sterling POV

The wind on the rooftop was a bitter thing, whipping my hair across my face like a lash.

I watched the taillights of the van bleed into the Chicago night.

It carried Luca Zimmerman.

It carried the man who wanted to burn my husband's empire to the ground, and he had just been laughing with my husband's mistress.

I turned back to the door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I had to tell him.

Even after the cut on my cheek, the humiliation, the soup, the basement.

I was a Sterling.

We did not let the enemy walk through the front door.

I pushed open the heavy steel door and threw myself down the service stairs.

I burst into the corridor and nearly collided with a wall of muscle.

It was Brennan.

He looked impeccable in his tuxedo, every line sharp and tailored, but his eyes were hard, scanning the hallway.

He wasn't looking for me.

He was looking for her.

"Brennan," I gasped, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. "You need to listen to me."

He looked down at me, his lip curling slightly.

"You ran away," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. "Like a child."

"Luca Zimmerman was here," I said, my voice shaking with adrenaline. "On the roof. Just now. He was with Debbi."

Brennan stiffened.

For a second, I saw the predator in him wake up.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"She is working with him," I said, pressing my advantage. "I heard them. She gave him the account codes. The Foundation. It's a setup, Brennan. She is a mole."

"Brennan?"

The voice came from behind him.

Debbi stepped out of the shadows of the stairwell.

She looked small. Fragile.

She was holding a cigarette with trembling fingers.

"What is she talking about?" Debbi asked, her eyes wide and wet. "I was just having a smoke. I needed air. The crowd... it was too much."

"I saw him!" I screamed, pointing a shaking finger at her. "Don't lie! I saw Luca!"

Debbi flinched, shrinking back against the wall.

"She's scaring me again," Debbi whispered. "Like with the soup. She's hallucinating."

Brennan looked at me.

Then he looked at Debbi.

He reached out and took Debbi's hand, pulling her to his side protectively.

"There is no one on the roof, Alyssa," Brennan said. "Security would have alerted me."

"Check the cameras!" I begged.

"I told you," he said, his voice ice cold. "We disabled them for the party. I ordered privacy for the guests."

"How convenient," I laughed, a harsh, jagged sound that scraped my throat. "You are the Don of Chicago, and you are being played by a college student."

Brennan's hand shot out.

He gripped my chin, his fingers digging into my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

"You are sick," he spat. "You are jealous, and it has made you delusional. You see enemies where there are none because you cannot stand that I chose her."

"I am trying to save you," I whispered.

"I don't need saving," he said. "I need peace. And you are chaos."

He shoved me back.

I stumbled, catching myself against the wall.

"Go home," he said. "Get out of my sight before I forget that you are a woman."

He turned his back on me.

He wrapped his arm around Debbi, shielding her, comforting the viper while he cast out his wife.

I stood there for a heartbeat.

I looked at his broad back.

I looked at the way he leaned down to whisper something in her ear.

Something inside me snapped.

It wasn't a loud break. It was quiet. Final.

"I hope she's worth it," I said to the empty air.

I turned and walked away.

I didn't go to the limo waiting at the front.

I went to the side exit, the one that led to the alley.

Carroll was waiting.

The extraction team was waiting.

I pushed the exit bar and stepped out into the cold alleyway.

Freedom tasted like exhaust fumes and damp pavement.

I took three steps toward the street.

Tires screeched.

A black van mounted the curb, blocking my path.

The side door slid open with a metallic rasp.

I didn't scream.

I didn't have time.

Two men in ski masks lunged out.

I tried to reach for the pepper spray in my clutch, but a heavy hand clamped over my mouth.

A rag soaked in chemical sweetness was pressed against my nose.

Chloroform.

My vision blurred instantly.

As they dragged me into the van, I saw something swinging from the rearview mirror.

It caught the light of the streetlamp.

The Sterling Star.

The diamond necklace Brennan had clasped around Debbi's neck only an hour ago.

It wasn't a random kidnapping.

It was a transaction.