On our eighth wedding anniversary, my husband asked for an open marriage. He said he wanted to pursue his young assistant, but he couldn't bear to lose a wife as capable as me.   "You can see other people too."   "Anyone?"   He smiled. "As long as you can find it."   A week later, at the company gala, his boss leaned down and kissed me in front of everyone.   My husband tore up the agreement and ordered me to go home with him.   I handed him a divorce agreement instead.   "The open marriage is over. Now we're getting divorced."

In the Golden Mane Mafia, I was the Cold-Faced Don's only personal assistant.   All I had to do was manage his daily schedule, and I pulled in $300,000 a month for it.   That job ran smoothly until the young mistress the family had given him found out I existed.   "I heard you just schedule the Don's appointments and get $300,000 every month? He even bought you a priceless pink diamond.  Are you his assistant, or his paid plaything?"   Her meaning was crystal clear.   She called over the underboss.   "From now on, I'll handle the Don's schedule. I'll do a much better job than she does."   Then she pointed straight at me. "As for you? You're fired."   I lowered my head, both hands clamped over my mouth, my whole body trembling.   Selena thought I was crying, and the smug look on her face became even more unbearable.   The second I stepped out of the casino, I let out a long, relieved breath.   That had been close. I had almost burst out laughing right in front of her.   I was finally free of Elio Romano.   Everyone in the underworld thought he was the only true gentleman left.   Gentle, powerful, razor-sharp, and ruthlessly decisive.   Only I knew how unpredictable he could be behind that polished facade.   When he was in a good mood, he was practically an angel. He'd shower me with expensive jewelry. Sometimes, he'd even hand me the deed to an entire villa.   When he was pissed, he was a straight-up devil. He'd dump every dirty job on me, debt collection and whatever other nasty task needed doing.   Back when I helped him take over Gold Street, I nearly ended up trafficked to a brothel.   Hell, I knew damn well that if I stayed by his side any longer, I'd end up dead in a ditch sooner or later.