My Mafia Husband Shared Our Sex Tape For A Bet So I Found A Deadlier Don Chapter 08
The Price of Treachery
Lorenzo didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. Didn’t move from the front hall floor until morning.
Then he drove back to the hospital.
Mia’s room. Third floor. Private wing.
He could hear her voice before he reached the door—shrill, panicked, talking fast into a phone.
“—he’s cutting me off! One apartment and he thinks that’s enough? I didn’t spend six months in that hellhole playing his little pet for a studio apartment—”
Lorenzo stopped walking.
“You promised me! You said if I got the contracts and broke up the marriage, I’d be the next Mrs. Rossi! Franco, you owe me—”
His hand closed around the door handle.
“—and I can fake a pregnancy. If Lorenzo believes the heir is his, we can use it to put you in the Rossi seat. Isn’t that what you wanted? So FIX THIS—”
Lorenzo kicked the door open.
It slammed hard against the wall.
Mia screamed. The phone flew from her hand.
She looked up at him—at his hollow eyes, his blood-crusted knuckles, and the rage on his face—and the color drained from her completely.
“Lorenzo—Mr. Rossi—how long have you—”
“Long enough.”
His voice was low. That made it worse.
Mia scrambled off the bed, backing into the corner. “It’s not what it sounds like—I was angry—I was just saying things—none of it’s true—”
“The security video from my own house.” He took a step forward. “You grabbed Bianca’s hand and hit yourself.”
“That’s—that’s fake—someone edited—”
“Your ‘suicide.’ Bought blood packs. Bribed nurses. A scratch so shallow it didn’t even need stitches.”
“I was scared! I really was hurt—”
“You told Franco—” His voice cracked on the name. “—that you made me carve three wounds into my wife. That you laughed about it.”
Mia’s back hit the wall. Nowhere left to run.
“Lorenzo, please—I did it because I love you—everything I did was because I wanted to be with you—”
He was on her before she could finish.
His foot connected with her stomach. Full force. No restraint.
Mia doubled over and screamed. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her abdomen.
“You cost me my wife.” Another kick. “You cost me my CHILD.”
He kicked her again. And again. Until she stopped screaming and started choking.
Blood pooled beneath her. Her body shook.
“Mr. Rossi—” A nurse rushed in. “Mr. Rossi, stop—she’ll die—”
“Good.”
But the Senior Donna’s guards were already there, pulling him back. Two men, struggling to hold him.
Lorenzo fought them with everything he had. But this time there was no one to save. Only someone to destroy.
“Get her to surgery,” the Donna said. “Make sure she can never use a fake pregnancy as a weapon again.”
Mia’s eyes rolled back. They dragged her away on a stretcher, leaving a trail of red across the white floor.
Lorenzo stood there, chest heaving, covered in blood that wasn’t his.
None of it brought Bianca back.
He drove home and walked through the empty house. Stood in the bedroom where he’d held that blade to her skin.
The sheets were still stained. No one had changed them.
He sank onto the mattress. Pressed his face into the pillow that still smelled faintly of her shampoo.
And Lorenzo Rossi cried until he had nothing left. By dawn, the Morettis had already made their first move.
—