Open Marriage Closed Heart

My husband, Damien Falcone, had 99 lovers.

And I was the mafia princess men lined up to die for.

The day we got together, everyone in our world took bets. They said we wouldn't last three months.

But then , everything changed. For me, he wiped his phone clean, built a rose manor, and got down on one knee.

Then, on our wedding night, he told me he wanted an open marriage.

"Our bodies can play," he said. "But our loyalty? That's just for us."

I agreed.

Then came his 100th lover, Sophia Ricci.

She betrayed our family in an arms deal. Almost got my father killed.

But Damien protected her. He even moved her into our home.

So, I did what any heartbroken mafia princess would do. I got drunk and woke up in another man's bed.

I just didn't know that man was Damien's uncle.

My husband, Damien Falcone, had 99 lovers. He gave them all up when he fell for me. Now, for number 100, he's dragging me to hell.

My husband was missing. Right when we needed him most—the arms deal with the Castellano family.

My father had no choice. He took me with him.

The exchange at the docks was going smoothly. Too smoothly.

Then they heard our bottom line, and the smiles died on their faces.

"Five million? I thought you could go as high as ten."

I frowned. "What? We never—"

Before I could finish, gunfire erupted.

The first bullet grazed my ear. It left a hole in the container behind me.

I hit the deck, my gun already in my hand.

"Isabella!" My father's voice was a roar over the gunfire.

Marco and his men were already taking cover. Bullets rained down on us.

This wasn't a last-minute decision.

This was a setup. An ambush.

I returned fire. A Castellano goon dropped.

But we were surrounded.

"Isabella!" My father screamed again through the hail of bullets. He clutched his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. His face was white. "They knew our bottom line! Ten million! We've got a rat!"

My blood ran cold.

Only three people knew that number: my father, me, and my husband, Damien Falcone.

Three hours later, the air in the private hospital stank of antiseptic and blood.

My father was on the bed. The doctor said the bullet missed his heart by an inch.

The truth hit me like a stray bullet.

Security footage showed a call made from Damien's office right before we left. An encrypted line. The receiver was the Castellano family.

The call was made by Sophia Ricci. Damien's latest pet project from some third-rate family.

The family has one rule for traitors: they die.

When Damien rushed into the room, he smelled like another woman's perfume.

He saw my father, and the color drained from his handsome face. "God, Bella, I…"

"She did it." I threw the tablet at him. The call log was stone-cold proof. "Your new pet almost killed my father."