QUADRUPLET FOR THE MAFIA BILLIONAIRE:MY BETRAYED REVENGE

The first thing Aurora saw when she pushed open her bedroom door was her sister straddling her husband. The second thing she saw was the white lace lingerie she had bought for their fifth anniversary, clinging to Bianca’s bare skin. Five years of marriage shattered in a heartbeat. Adrian froze, his face draining of color. "Aurora? You’re supposed to be at the charity dinner!" "I came home early," Aurora whispered. Her voice cracked. "I wanted to surprise you." Bianca didn't even look ashamed. She climbed off Adrian, her red hair falling down her bare back. She crossed her arms and smirked. "Surprise. Well, this is awkward." "Bianca..." Aurora took a shaky step forward. "You're my sister. I raised you when Mom died. I gave you everything. Why?" "Because you're weak," Bianca spat. "You were always the perfect one. But you're pathetic. It was so easy to take it all from you." Aurora looked at Adrian, waiting for him to defend her. But he just stood there on a sheet, avoiding her eyes. "You planned this," Aurora realized, her heart shattering. "You gave me no choice," Adrian snapped. "You're boring, Aurora. Bianca is what I want." Bianca stepped forward and slapped Aurora hard across the face. The c***k echoed in the room. Aurora tasted blood on her lip. "See?" Bianca laughed. "You can't even fight back." Something inside Aurora snapped. The years of sacrifice, the love she had poured into this house—it all exploded into a blinding rage. Aurora swung her hand, her palm connecting with Bianca's cheek in a slap so hard it sent her stumbling into the dresser. "Adrian! Do something!" Bianca screamed. Adrian lunged, grabbing Aurora by the arm so tightly she knew it would bruise. He dragged her out of the bedroom, her bare feet scraping the floor as she fought him. He hauled her down the stairs and threw open the heavy oak front door. Rain was falling in torrential sheets. "Adrian, please!" Aurora begged, rain instantly soaking her thin dress. "There's nothing to talk about." Adrian grabbed a thick envelope and threw it at her chest. "Sign the divorce papers. I want you out. You are nothing to me." Bianca appeared behind him in Aurora's silk robe, a triumphant sneer on her face. Adrian shoved Aurora hard. She tumbled backward down the stone steps, landing in the freezing mud. She looked up as he slammed the door in her face. The lock clicked. The faint sound of Bianca laughing echoed from inside. Aurora lay in the mud, the rain washing the blood from her lip. Sorrow threatened to swallow her, but she pushed it down until only a cold, hard resolve remained. She pushed herself off the ground and walked into the storm. Three hours later, Aurora stumbled through the door of a dimly lit bar called The Black Rose. She had no phone, no money, no coat. Her torn dress clung to her skin, and her bare feet were bleeding. She looked like a drowned ghost. She dropped onto a stool. The scarred bartender took one look at her bruised face and poured a glass of amber liquid. Aurora drank it in one swallow. It burned. She didn't notice the man in the dark booth at the back. He wore an expensive suit. His eyes were pitch black, steady, and utterly devoid of warmth. His name was Dante Moretti, and he was a monster. He had come to this bar to put a bullet in Adrian Sterling’s head. But Adrian hadn't shown up. Instead, a woman in a ruined dress had stumbled in out of the storm. Dante watched the way she drank, fast and desperate, trying to put out a fire. He watched her hands tremble, not from the cold, but from a rage so deep it pulsed off her skin. He stood up and crossed the room. The bartender immediately stepped away. Dante sat on the stool beside her, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. "You're going to regret drinking that fast," he said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. Aurora turned her head. Her swollen eyes met his. She should have been terrified. But she was already dead inside. "I don't care," she said hoarsely. "I don't care about anything anymore." "That's a lie." Dante leaned in, his eyes dropping to the crushed papers in her hand. "People who don't care don't hold onto a stack of paper like it's a lifeline." Aurora let the divorce papers drop onto the sticky counter. "My husband threw me out. He was in bed with my sister. He told me I was nothing." Something violent flashed in Dante's eyes. He reached out, his fingers gently turning her chin to the light to look at the bruise on her cheek. "He was wrong," Dante said quietly. "You are not anything." Aurora looked into his dark eyes. She didn't want to think about Adrian. She just wanted to feel something—anything—that wasn't this crushing pain. "I want to forget," she whispered. "Just for one night." Dante held her gaze. He was a man who took what he wanted, but looking at her, he felt a fierce urge to protect her. He leaned closer until his mouth was a breath away from hers. "Then forget with me." Aurora didn't hesitate. She grabbed the lapels of his suit, pulled him forward, and crushed her lips against his.