His Unwanted Wife, The Rival Don's Queen

From the back cover

The gunman pressed a Glock to my temple and gave my husband a choice.

"One walks out. One stays. Choose, Mr. Underboss."

I wasn't worried. I was Haven. I was his wife of ten years, his Consigliere, the woman who built his empire.

Beside me sobbed Gemma, a fragile twenty-two-year-old he had known for six months.

"Take Gemma! Leave Haven!" Connor screamed, his honor twisting into something unrecognizable.

He walked out of the warehouse with another woman in his arms, leaving me to be butchered.

I didn't wait for the bullet. I threw myself through a glass window into the freezing canal.

I survived the fall, but the life inside me didn't.

After five years of failed IVF, the miracle baby I hadn't even told Connor about was gone.

While I lay in a cold hospital room, bleeding out the remains of our child, my husband was buying diamond earrings for the woman who had set me up to die.

When the doctor tried to sedate me for the surgery, I grabbed his wrist.

"No anesthesia," I commanded.

"But the pain..."

"I want to feel it," I said, staring at the ceiling. "I want to feel every scrap of him leaving my body."

I burned that pain into my soul. Then, I went home, poured gasoline over our wedding bed, and lit a match.

Two years later, I returned to the city.

Connor thought I was dead.

But when he saw me on the arm of his mortal enemy, wearing the crown of a rival Queen, he realized his mistake.

He didn't just lose a wife. He started a war.