The Trophy Husband Who Lost Everything

Salvatore jumped in at once, his voice smooth as poured grappa.

"It's fine. If you can't handle the wheel yet, just practice slow."

"Every good driver had to learn somewhere, right?"

Carmela bit her lip, the picture of embarrassment.

"But Don Vitale, the crew's cars are all shared. There's no other car for me to practice on."

As she said it, she stole a glance at me.

"Honestly, I really love your wife's Phantom."

"But I doubt she'd be willing to lend it to me."

I set down my fork and spoke flatly.

"If you already know I won't lend it, then you shouldn't have brought it up."

"And another thing, Salvatore. You still haven't paid back what you owe me for my Cullinan."

"If that money never shows up, I might just feed this little courier of yours to the Feds."

The dining room went silent.

The smile on Salvatore's face stiffened for a beat.

Then it smoothed over. He laughed, one beat too long, and dropped a heavy hand on his own knee.

"Cara, don't you trust me?"

"When have I ever shorted you a cent?"

"Once this month's tribute comes in, I'll move it to you right away."

Bianca lifted her chin at once, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

"Don't go looking down on my brother, Adriana."

"His operation's been running incredibly well these last couple of years. He's about to take fresh money and expand the whole territory."

"Even without the Falcones, the Vitale name belongs at the top table all the same."

Then she turned to Salvatore, smug.

"Go to the vault today and draw a new line, Salvatore."

"And set tribute accounts for the whole family."

"We don't even want to touch Adriana's money anymore."

"From now on, even if she begs us to spend it, we won't!"

I almost laughed out loud.

The Vitales would never grasp it.

Without the Falcones funneling years of steady cash and protection their way, Salvatore's so-called soon-to-expand operation would have collapsed three years ago, when the money ran dry and the debts came calling.

A pity.

A frog at the bottom of a well never sees the sky beyond it.

After breakfast, I picked up my bag to head out.

"I've made plans with a friend to go to the spa."

"Don't wait for me at dinner."

Once I'd left the estate, the first thing I did was call a man who found things out for a price.

Subject of inquiry.

Carmela.

What she wanted was written all over her face.

She wanted to move up.

She wanted to replace me.

And Salvatore?

Of course he knew.

He was just playing dumb on purpose.

A pretty young thing circling him with worship in her eyes.

What man wouldn't enjoy that?

One willing to give, one willing to take.

A perfect match, really.

That afternoon.

My friend and I were lying back at the spa for a treatment.

My phone buzzed.

A transaction alert from the Falcone vault popped up.

【Your tribute line ending in 8888 has been drawn down by $12,000,000.】

I shot upright.

Twelve million?

And the point of purchase was a Rolls-Royce dealership.

That number.

It was exactly the price of a Phantom.

I opened my purse to check at once.

The next second, my expression went cold.

A card was missing.

Someone had stolen my access to the vault.

At almost the same moment.

A new post refreshed onto my social feed.

The person who'd posted it.

Carmela.

In the photo, she leaned against a brand-new Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Sunlight spilled across the body of the car.

She was beaming.

The caption was even more grating.

【Found myself a saint of a boss~】

【He knows my driving's bad, so he just gave me a Phantom to practice on!】

【Finally don't have to borrow other people's cars anymore~】

Three bashful emojis underneath.

As if afraid I might miss it.

Within a minute.

She sent the photo straight to me.

"Donna Vitale, I won't be asking to borrow your car anymore."

"Don Vitale was worried I'd wreck yours again, so he bought me a brand-new one."

"He said I can drive it however I want."

"If I crash it, he'll just buy another."

I stared at my phone screen.

Then I laughed.

Laughed in a way that made even my friend beside me sense something was off.

"What's wrong?"

She peeled off her face mask and asked.

I rose unhurriedly to my feet, and as I did, I slid my wedding ring a quarter-turn around my finger.

"Nothing."

"Just that someone stole my line to the vault."

"And helped themselves to twelve million while they were at it."

My friend sat bolt upright.

"What?"

I picked up my coat.

"Come on."

"Come catch a thief with me."

Half an hour later.

My friend and I appeared in the lobby of the Vitale front office.

The moment we walked in.

I saw Salvatore and Carmela coming back from outside.

The two of them were chatting and laughing.

A few associates trailed behind them.

Carmela had clearly already claimed that Phantom as her trophy.

When she spotted me.

Her eyes lit right up.

"Donna Vitale!"

She strode straight up to me.

Showing off, and not even trying to hide it.

"Did you come all the way here just to see my new car?"

"It's nothing special, really."

"Just a Phantom."

At that point.

She paused on purpose.

"Oh, that's right."

"Mine's got a slightly higher trim than yours."

The few associates beside her broke into envious looks.

And Salvatore showed not a trace of guilt.

If anything, he looked like it was all perfectly natural.

"Cara."

"Whose fault is it that you wouldn't lend Carmela the car to practice on?"

"All I could do was buy her a new one."

Carmela picked up the thread at once, smiling.

"Donna Vitale, if you ask me, you should've just lent me the car from the start."

"Then Don Vitale wouldn't have had to spend all this money."

"Don't you agree?"

As she spoke.

She deliberately took a step closer.

Almost up against my face.

That look of a petty soul reveling in its small victory.

She might as well have had the word "gloating" written across her face.

But just then.

A rush of hurried footsteps came from the lobby entrance.

A dozen-odd soldiers in black charged in.

Conversations died. The associates pressed themselves back against the walls, hands drifting to their sides, none of them daring to move.

Before anyone could react.

Two of them had already seized Carmela's arms, one on each side.

A muffled thud.

Carmela was slammed hard against the wall.

The color drained from her face in an instant.

Her scream rang through the entire lobby.

"Aah——"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

And I simply put my phone away, taking my time. In the silence after the strike, no one came to her aid. Not Salvatore. Not one man on his payroll.

I looked at her and spoke flatly.

"Catching a thief, of course."