The same night when I vomited the food I ate, unable to consume anything at all as images of my dead child wrapped in blood continued to haunt me, I saw a pair of foreign lingerie thrown in the washing machine for me to wash.
Even if our two mafia families arranged our marriage but I had loved Xander for the past five years so much so that I was willing to work day and night, strengthening his mafia regime while also performing the duties of a housewife. Still, here he was, making me wash the clothes of a female he was having an affair with.
I splashed my face with cold water, completely wiping off the remnants of tears before looking at my reflection in the mirror.
The only daughter of Mafia Boss Valentine Durati.
Elena Valentine Durati.
I dialed an unknown number, and it was picked up on the very first ring.
“I agree to be your woman Mikhail Giovanni.” Silence followed and soon a manly laughter bloomed from the other side.
“Welcome to Italian Omerta, Elena.”
I agreed to sell my body and soul to the devil himself.
Just the moment I hung up, Xander opened the door of our bedroom and came out seemingly tired, hoping to be served dinner.
"Who was that on the phone?"