Fall of the Underboss

Married for five years, Lorenzo, the underboss of the Moretti family, had never been without a woman.

He found my “noble lady” posture stiff and vanilla.

Dancers from Trinacria, headliners from the city’s nightclubs, his rotating stream of mistresses could fill the entire estate.

Yet whenever I was displeased, whether it was throwing drinks or kicking someone out, Lorenzo never intervened.

He’d only lit his cigar with casual amusement and said, “Relax. It’s just fun. No one can touch your position.”

Then a clumsy, naive maid appeared.

Unlike the others, she wasn’t flashy. However, when Lorenzo returned, bloodied, she’d hand him a cup of warm tea, her eyes red-rimmed. She watched him with pure admiration while he handled the family business.

Lorenzo said the estate felt cold and lifeless except for her. He said only when she panicked did he feel like a hero being needed, rather than just a husband in a political marriage.

Until she accidentally broke an antique vase left by my mother…

Before I could react, Lorenzo stepped in and shielded her trembling form, glaring at me as if I were the enemy.

“What’s wrong with you? If you’re crazy, go see a shrink. Don’t scare her like a rabid dog!”

Watching his careful, protective expression, I smiled.

I guess it was time for the Moretti family underboss to be replaced.

Lorenzo Moretti’s “rabid dog” was still echoing through the hall. On the floor, the shattered blue-and-white porcelain from the mysterious East was painfully glaring.

“Apologize to Sophia.” Lorenzo patted the woman’s back, his voice low and cold.

I looked at him, mockery flickering in my eyes.

Five years ago, when the Bernardi family expanded south, they chose the Moretti family as their pawn.

Lorenzo married me as part of that alliance, and only then was he promoted to underboss of the Moretti family.

Everything he had—status, money, and this estate—came from me.

However, he had clearly forgotten how he had climbed here.

Now he was eager to grind my dignity underfoot, desperate to hide the fact that he rose through his wife.

“I won’t apologize.”

I lifted my chin and said with a flat tone, carrying the natural arrogance of a Bernardi heiress.

Lorenzo’s expression darkened instantly.

He hated this look. It reminded him, every time, that aside from the don, there was still me above him.

“This is Moretti territory!”

He clenched his teeth like an enraged lion. “Elena, don’t forget who you are. You’re just the underboss’s wife now!”

“So you do remember you’re only an underboss?” I sneered. “If my father finds out you’re using his daughter’s money to keep a mistress, how long do you think you’ll last?”

I clearly hit the sore spot. Panic flashed through his eyes, then sank into something darker.

“Fine. Very well.” He sneered. “Don Moretti will be attending tonight’s banquet. I’ll have Sophia sit at the main table right next to you and let him see how I keep women in line.”

He’d lost his