She Doesn’t Beg, She Destroys

After six years by Archie Valez’s side, everything changed when his uncle died—and Archie took over the family legacy… and with it, the responsibility of caring for his “young” aunt, Betty Cruz, whose age was practically the same as Archie’s.

Still, whatever Betty wanted, Archie delivered.

I just never thought it would include a baby.

Betty said she wanted a baby with the Valez bloodline. And with the uncle gone, Archie was the only one left to do the job.

So he gave her that, too.

“Just wait a little longer,” he would say to me, “Sabrina. As soon as she’s pregnant.”

What started as once a month turned into once a week… Then it became a nightly routine.

Of almost eight months that we lived in New York, Archie went to Betty over a hundred times.

And she finally got pregnant.

Shortly after, the Valez family announced that Archie would be marrying Betty.

“Mommy,” my daughter asked softly, climbing onto the couch beside me. Elly—our Elly. My Elly. The daughter Archie never had time for. “Is someone getting married?”

I held her close and kissed her hair. “Yes, sweetheart. Daddy’s finally marrying the love of his life.”

Elly blinked at the screen. “But what about us?”

I smiled.

“We’re going home, baby,” I whispered in her ear.

Archie forgot that I was Sabrina Marcellus. And the Marcellus women didn’t beg for rings. And certainly not love after betrayal.

1

Sabrina’s POV

"She Doesn’t Beg, She Destroys" "He Regrets Me Now" "You Lost Me Forever" "He Picked His Aunt" "I Don’t Forgive" "Regret Looks Good on Him" "Too Late for A Sorry" "The Mafia Don's Betrayal: Chose the Wrong Woman" "He Abandoned Us for Her—Now Watch Us Walk Away"

After I tucked Elly back into bed, I pulled out the laptop and booked two tickets to Las Vegas. It was close to Christmas, so nearly everything was sold out.

The earliest flight I could get was on Christmas Eve—three days from now. I guessed most people would already be home by then, celebrating the holidays with their families.

Christmas had always meant something to me. It was the day I met Archie. Our anniversary.

Funny, how fate liked to twist the knife with a smile.

Because this year, Christmas would be the day I left him—with our daughter.

I was still staring at the screen, lost in thoughts I couldn’t afford to feel, when a pair of arms slid around my waist from behind. Strong. Familiar. Reeking of whiskey.

Archie’s.

He murmured something about kissing me. His lips brushed the side of my neck, warm and coaxing. Then he kissed me on the lips, this time slower, heavier—hands starting to wander, already tugging me toward the bed.

I pushed him away, the scent clinging to his shirt knocking the air from my lungs.

It was Betty’s smell. The scent of her on him made me want to vomit.

I stood and turned away, heading for the living room. “Take a