From Tortured Wife To Mafia Queen

I posted a photo of baby shoes to celebrate my pregnancy. Two hours later, my husband was holding jumper cables.

Kaeden, the Mafia Capo who swore to protect me, stood under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the basement.

He didn't look like the man who brought me vanilla lattes. He looked like a monster.

His "fragile" childhood friend, Clemmie, had convinced him that my innocent post was a signal to our enemies.

"Discipline," Kaeden muttered, refusing to look at my weeping face. "She needs to learn the cost of her voice."

He ordered low voltage—just enough to scare me.

But the moment he walked out the door, unable to watch, Clemmie smiled.

"He's not coming back for you," she whispered.

She cranked the dial all the way to the right.

She didn't just want to teach me a lesson. She wanted to stop my heart so she could harvest it for herself.

And my husband had already signed the release forms.

But they made one mistake. They left the cleanup to Alois, the family's most ruthless Enforcer.

He didn't bury me. He saved me.

Now, while Kaeden cries over a fake grave, consumed by guilt, I am watching from the shadows.

Daria Burris died in that chair.

The woman who survived is coming for blood.

Chapter 1

Daria POV

The man holding the jumper cables wasn't a stranger in a ski mask; he was the man who had vowed to protect me before God and the Family.

My husband.

Kaeden stood under the harsh, buzzing fluorescent lights of the soundproofed basement. His tailored Italian suit was pristine-a charcoal armor that offered a stark, sickening contrast to the blood drying on my split lip.

He didn't look like a monster.

He looked like the man who remembered to bring me vanilla lattes on rainy Tuesdays.

He looked like the Capo of the Burris crime syndicate, a man who could order a city block burned to ash with a mere snap of his fingers.

But right now, he looked at me with a glacial detachment that inflicted more damage than the leather straps currently digging into my wrists.

"Please," I choked out, the metallic taste of fear and copper coating my tongue. "Kaeden, look at me. It's Daria."

He didn't blink. He didn't even breathe.

He simply turned the dial on the generator.

A low, menacing hum filled the room, vibrating against my very bones like a premonition.

"You broke protocol, Daria," he said. His voice was devoid of the warmth I used to sleep beside; it was a flat, dead thing. "You know the rules. Silence is our shield. You exposed us."

"It was a photo," I sobbed, my body trembling violently against the cold steel chair. "It was just a photo of baby shoes. I didn't tag the location. I didn't-"

"You signaled our enemies," a soft, feminine voice cut through the air.

Clemmie stepped out from the shadows behind him.

She was petite, fragile-looking, with eyes that held a