I Resign: The Mafia Boss's Unwanted Wife

I was gasping for air on the cold marble floor of the Syndicate Ball, my lungs seizing in a familiar, lethal rhythm.

My inhaler was just five feet away, but it might as well have been miles.

Dante Moretti, the man who bought my life with his blood eight years ago, looked right at me.

He saw my panic. He saw the weakness he despised.

Then, he turned his back on me to continue waltzing with his mistress.

That betrayal was just the beginning.

When the elevator trapped us days later, the lights flickering and the air growing thin, Dante didn't hesitate.

He pried the doors open and carried Sofia out like a fragile bride.

He left me—his wife with a diagnosed respiratory condition—alone in the suffocating dark to die.

He missed my birthday dinner to comfort her on a Ferris Wheel, leaving me to celebrate with a single candle on a slice of toast.

I finally realized that to him, I wasn't a wife to be cherished. I was just property to be owned.

Something inside me didn't just break; it clicked into place.

I stopped waiting for him to come home.

I left my wedding ring on the table, blocked his number, and walked out into the night.

Now, Dante is tearing the city apart to find me, claiming he realizes his mistake.

But he's too late.

Because the man standing beside me now isn't offering me a diamond ring or empty promises.

He just handed me a loaded Glock and asked if I wanted to be his Queen.