Married to the Mafia: A Wife's Deadly Reckoning

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I was trapped in a cabin with my daughter, Sofia Costello, as floodwaters raged outside. With shaking hands, I used the emergency satellite phone to call my mafia husband, Henson Costello, and begged for help.

I dialed more than 90 times before the call finally went through, yet all I heard was the breathy moans of his first love, Angelina Rossi, on the other end.

"Henson...slower..."

Before I could even process the shock of his betrayal, I heard a conversation that sent me straight into hell.

"That kid was dead weight anyway. Trading him for control of Pier 9 was the best deal the family ever made."

It seemed that Leo Costello, my son, who had supposedly drowned at the beach five years ago, had not died in an accident after all. Henson had used him as part of a business deal.

All this time, I had been drowning in guilt for taking him to that beach, blaming myself for the tragedy. I never knew the truth was this cruel.

Tears streamed down my face as my body shook uncontrollably. After ten years of marriage, I finally realized I had never truly known the man I loved and sacrificed everything for.

I picked up my phone again and dialed Vincenzo Moretti's number.

"Vince, I'll marry you. But you have to help me destroy the Costello family from power."

After a brief silence, his voice came through the line. "Aurelia Astor, I've been waiting ten years to hear you say that."

[Aurelia's POV]

"Mommy, where did Daddy go?" Sofia Costello hugged her teddy bear, her amber eyes full of confusion.

I crouched to her level and smoothed her rain-soaked blond curls. "He had something important to take care of, sweetheart."

It was our tenth wedding anniversary, and Henson Costello could not even stay for an hour. We had planned to spend a summer camp weekend with Sofia, but the moment he arrived, a phone call pulled him away.

The storm outside was getting worse, rain hammering against the cabin windows with an ear-splitting fury. The staff had warned us about flash floods, and our area was also at risk for mudslides.

We needed to contact rescue immediately, but all the signals had completely cut out.

My heart sank. I frantically dug through my backpack for the emergency satellite phone and dialed Henson's number with trembling hands.

Once, twice…

I made over 90 calls, each one met with that cold, busy tone.

Sofia finally fell asleep in my arms, tear tracks still streaking her little face. I walked to the window, watching the rain grow even more brutal, and dialed that number one more time.

This time, the call finally connected.

I opened my mouth, ready to say, "Henson, we're trapped. The floodwaters could hit any second."

However, I never got the chance.

A woman's breathy moans came through the line, sweet and obscene.

"Henson...slower... You're hurting me..."

My fingers froze, recognizing that it was Angelina Rossi's