Because I loved him, I trusted him. I trusted us. I trusted what we'd built.
Until I saw him in bed with her.
Then I knew exactly how wrong I'd been.
If he wanted to warm another woman's body, he could have her. I was done.
When morning came, I wiped the dried tears from my face and made two phone calls.
The first was to the hospital. "I need to schedule a procedure. As soon as possible."
The second was to my mother. "Mamma, Tomasso cheated on me. I'm filing for divorce and coming to you. Papà has been wanting to hand the Family over to me, right? I'll be there soon."
Her voice didn't waver. Not a tremor. Not a breath out of place. Isabella Valente had survived three decades as a Don's wife, and she received the news of her daughter's betrayal the way she received all threats: with absolute stillness before the storm.
"I told you from the start. You two come from different worlds. The Rossettis were never our equals. Marrying him was never going to end well. Come home to Monaco. As for the baby, if you want to keep it, keep it. The Valente family could use an heir."
I hung up and tore the check in my hands clean in half.