After His Betrayal, I Became His Mother-in-Law

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiancé, Marco, married the Don's daughter.

My father was framed and thrown in jail. I needed five million dollars to get him out.

Then Marco found me. "Be my mistress," he offered, "and I'll save your father."

I smiled and turned to the man lurking in the shadows, a man known for his power, brutality, and his stone-cold heart.

They said the king of the underworld never let a woman spend the night.

But with me, he buried his head in my hair, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist.

The floor-to-ceiling windows, the mahogany desk, and the ornate carved bed all became our battlegrounds.

And there was one thing I forgot to tell Marco.

The man I was with was Dante Landini, the cold-blooded Don of the Landini family, who was Marco's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Juliana's POV

Today was supposed to be my engagement day.

Instead, I was forced to watch my ex-fiancé kiss another woman.

Marrying her was his ticket into New York's elite power structure. She was Isabella Landini, the only daughter of the feared Mafia Don, Dante Landini.

Months ago, Marco had abruptly broken the marriage agreement between our two families.

Now, every ambitious capo in the city was vying for an alliance with the Landinis, my ex-fiancé included.

Everyone knew the Landini family controlled the entire New York underworld. And Dante? He alone decided who lived and who died in this city.

So, Marco had made his choice.

Her, not me.

"A Scotch, neat. And a Dirty Martini for the lady."

A low, smooth voice slid past my ear.

"What has you looking so glum? The bride, or the groom?" the man asked.

"I'm just not used to these kinds of parties," I lied.

"What a coincidence," he said, taking a sip of the amber liquid. "I'm here purely out of familial obligation."

The bartender pushed my drink forward. I tilted my head back and downed it in one go. The sharp burn seared my throat, a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest.

Every time Marco kissed Isabella, I felt like I died all over again.

Were my dignity, my love, and our seven years together truly worth nothing?

"Thank you for the drink," I said to the stranger. I needed to get out of here. Now.

I slid off the barstool, turning so quickly that I didn't notice the waiter rushing past behind me.

A sharp crash echoed through the air.

The waiter's tray tipped, and three full glasses of deep red Cabernet Sauvignon spilled all over my chest and skirt.

The cold liquid instantly soaked through the fabric, clinging to my skin.

Scarlet wine snaked down my cream-colored gown, making it look like the aftermath of a grisly murder.

The room fell silent. Every eye in the room zeroed in on me.

I froze, mortified and utterly exposed.

Just as I was wishing the ground would swallow me whole, a warm,