Between Two Mafia Dons

Married to Don Victor for three years, I thought I could finally forget the pain and betrayal of my ex-husband, Dominic.

This cold, ruthless man ruled the East Coast underworld. But he handed me the world on a silver platter, healing my broken pieces.

Until late one night. Victor's underboss called, frantic, begging me to rush to Manhattan's top private hospital.

Victor and Dominic were in a standoff outside the maternity ward. Guns drawn, surrounded by their elite hitmen. They were inches away from sparking an all-out mob war.

And standing between them was my ex-best friend, Chloe. She was visibly pregnant.

The Commission's mediator slid a truce across the table. His expression was painfully awkward.

"The security tapes are clear. The two Dons nearly blew up the entire floor just to decide who gets to stay in her room tonight."

Numbly, I signed the papers as the Donna of the Costello family.

Prenatal vitamins bought by Victor already piled high in the room. Meanwhile, his and Dominic's men were still arguing over the schedule—how the two Mafia Dons would split their week to keep Chloe company, three days each.

When I walked up to the bed, the two lethal men who were just at each other's throats now stood guarding her on both sides.

Victor shielded her belly. The same lips that used to kiss every inch of my body now spit out bone-chilling words: "I forced her. If you have a problem, take it up with me."

My ex-husband, Dominic, glared at me viciously. "Keep your mad dog of a husband in check. Tell him to stop harassing my woman!"

I slowly shook my head. Watching this farce, silent tears slid down my cheeks.

A mobster's love... in the end, it's just a cheap lie.

Victor, I don't want you anymore either.

"Sign the agreement." Wiping cold sweat from his forehead, the mediator slid a truce across the table.

The sharp stench of gunpowder and rubbing alcohol hung heavy in the air.

Just ten minutes ago, my husband, Victor, and my ex-husband, Dominic, nearly shot the VIP maternity ward to pieces. Elite hitmen from both families had guns drawn.

And all for one reason: my ex-best friend Chloe’s small baby bump.

I held the pen. My hand didn't shake at all.

After I signed my name, Victor waved off his armed guards. The ruthless Don of the East Coast walked up to me. Out of habit, he reached out to pull me into his arms.

I coldly stepped aside.

His hand froze in mid-air.

But there was no guilt in his eyes. He pulled his hand back smoothly. His tone was cold, leaving no room for argument.

"Go back to the estate," he said, adjusting his cuffs, looking down at me. "Chloe is in shock. The doctor said stress is dangerous for her pregnancy. I have to stay at the hospital with her tonight."

Before he even finished, a tall figure roughly shoved Victor aside.

It was Dominic.