When My Mafia Husband Had a Baby with My Best Friend, I Snapped

My sister, Marina Mendoza, looked at my deathly pale face, sighed, and began another round of persuasion. "Julia, we're at this age now, and you still have Tomas," she said. "Don't make a fuss. Listen to your big sister. Men are men. If their hearts wander, let them wander. As long as he still comes home, that's what matters." She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Doesn't our family restaurant still rely on Carlos's investment? You're lucky enough to have married a mafia godfather. Tearing everything apart now won't do anyone any good." That was my own sister. All for money, she sided with outsiders to lie to me. My brother-in-law, Hugo Reyes, also chimed in. "Exactly, Julia Mendoza. The life you have now, which woman wouldn't envy it? Don't be so ungrateful. Gabriela Silva was quite pitiful too. Her family ran into trouble back then, and Carlos Santos helped her. She just had a moment of weakness..." My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much that I couldn't breathe. Gabriela, my sister, and I grew up together, and we were known as the three closest friends. I once had my head split open by thugs while protecting my sister, and I still had the scar. But then, she was asking me to empathize with the woman who stole my husband. The human heart could truly be that biased. I yanked my hand away, my voice as cold as ice. "Marina, from today on, you're no sister of mine." Her face paled, and she wanted to say something more. Just then, the front door swung open, and Carlos walked in with a dark expression. His sharp gaze swept over us before finally landing on me. Marina and Hugo immediately fell silent and quietly slipped out. In the spacious living room, only the two of us remained. Carlos walked up to me, towering over me, demanding answers. "Julia, what are you making a fuss about now?" In ten years of marriage, this was the first time he had spoken to me in such an ice-cold tone. I choked back the sob in my throat and looked him in the eye. "Carlos, what did I ever do to you? You had an illegitimate child with my best friend and hid it from me all these years?" At the mention of the words "illegitimate child," a flicker of impatience crossed his eyes, but when he saw my red-rimmed eyes, he softened his stance. He tried to pull me into his arms as he used to, but I shoved him away hard. "Julia, don't worry," he said. "She will never replace you." My tears finally spilled over. "It's filthy!" I refused to share my husband with another woman. Not even if I were Cinderella and he were the fearsome gang boss. Carlos's patience was completely exhausted. He stepped back, resuming that cold businessman facade. "Julia, if you insist on taking this to court, I will fight for custody of Tomas at all costs. Do you think you can win against me? Do you want Tomas to stay with you when you can't even keep 'The Mendoza's' restaurant?" I stared at him in a daze. I couldn't believe he would use our child and my heart and soul to threaten me. Seeing all color drain from my face, Carlos's tone softened slightly. "Stay in your place as Mrs. Santos, and you and Tomas will live like royalty for the rest of your lives." I lowered my eyes, hiding all my hatred, and gave a small nod. From that day on, I no longer asked about his late nights, nor did I leave a light on for him. I was like an emotionless machine, picking up and dropping off Tomas every day, managing the restaurant business. At the same time, I began secretly gathering all the evidence I needed. Then, one day, Gabriela came knocking. She stood at the restaurant entrance, her face bearing that familiar, pitifully timid expression. There was a time when I had thought she was the most pitiful woman in the world. A few years ago, she had suddenly told me that she had been deceived, gotten pregnant before marriage, and been kicked out by her family. I had felt sorry for her plight and took her in and cared for her. I had even given half of Tomas's toys and clothes to that child of hers I had never met. I had also sighed to Carlos countless times about Gabriela's hardships, asking him to help if he could. Looking back now, it was a sick joke. As if he needed reminding. He'd probably already been going at it with her in that bed countless times. Gabriela stepped forward and said timidly, "Julia, can we talk?" I stopped what I was doing and gave her a blank look. "Cut the crap." She faltered, bit her lip, looked around, and then lowered her voice. "I didn't do this on purpose. Carlos and I... we couldn't help ourselves. Valeria is older now, and I just hope the children can be well, and that we can coexist peacefully. I really never meant to replace you. No one can control their feelings." Listening to this textbook display of fake innocence, I let out a bitter laugh. "Stop pretending. If you're not tired of pretending, I'm tired of watching." I stared at her, suddenly thought of something, and asked slowly and deliberately, "The day I gave birth to Tomas, I hemorrhaged and nearly died on the operating table. Did you give birth to Valeria in the room next door?" Gabriela's face instantly turned ashen, giving me the clearest answer. That day, Carlos received the call from the hospital that I was in critical condition, but he arrived five hours late. He rushed into the ward, gathered me in his arms, weak as I was, and said hoarsely, "Julia, I'm sorry I came late. I love you." I was deeply moved at the time. It turned out that it wasn't because he was worried about me, but because he had just watched another woman give birth to his child and felt guilty.