The Mafia King Kneels For His Ex-Wife

From the back cover

I was the lawful wife of Salvatore Vitiello, the most feared Mafia Don in New York.

For six years, I endured his coldness, believing my miscarriage and subsequent hysterectomy were the tragic results of a rival syndicate's kidnapping.

But at the triennial Syndicate summit, my brother whispered a horrifying secret into my ear.

"The Don procured the services of the family surgeon to have your womb removed."

Salvatore himself had ordered the mutilation six years ago as a calculated punishment for our forced marriage.

While I reeled from the sickening truth, Salvatore publicly humiliated me.

He paraded his pregnant mistress, Serena, forcing me to surrender my seat of honor to her.

My own parents and brother fawned over the mistress, kicking me to the floor into a pile of shattered crystal.

Bleeding and broken, I was ordered by my husband to peel over a hundred shrimp for the woman carrying his heir, while the entire room mocked my barrenness.

I had spent six excruciating years trying to earn his forgiveness for a trap my parents set, desperately loving the devil who had coolly destroyed my ability to be a mother.

My family had sold me to him, and he had mutilated me just to break me.

The suffocating love I harbored for him snapped like a rotted cord.

I didn't cry or scream.

I packed a single suitcase, walked out of the heavily fortified estate in the dead of night, and mailed him the Syndicate severance papers.