The Mafia Heiress's Revenge

(Ava) I was smiling the whole drive home. I had spent six hours getting ready……..an emerald silk dress that dipped low in the back and hugged every curve that Marco had spent five years telling me to hide. My hair fell in soft curls over my shoulders, and my lips were painted with red lipstick……Marco’s favorite and on my neck, rested my diamond choker. For the first time in years, I looked in the mirror and didn’t see a woman trying to be smaller……..I saw a wife. Tonight was our fifth wedding anniversary. Tonight, I was going to remind my husband why he married me. I had reserved a private room at Bellini’s. His favorite wine was already waiting. The cake sat safely in the passenger seat with Happy 5th Anniversary written across it in gold icing and after dinner……. I smiled to myself. I had bought lingerie but not because Marco had asked me to. This was all me because for once, I wanted to feel beautiful. My phone buzzed and Elisa's name flashed on the screen. Elisa: That dress is going to ruin him. You look incredible. Send me pictures later. I laughed. Of course she’ll say that. She had been my best friend since college. The only person who never made me feel too big. The only person who convinced me that I deserved love and I was grateful that I bumped into her on the first day of college. By the time I pulled into the Moretti estate, the sun had disappeared. The mansion was quiet and Marco’s car was already parked outside. He beat me home, which was perfect. Tonight was going to be great. I picked up the cake, slipped off my heels at the front door so I wouldn’t make any noise, and quietly stepped inside. "Marco?" I called softly. I got no answer but I could hear music, slow music coming from upstairs. A smile spread across my face as I wondered. Maybe he had planned something too. My heart fluttered as I climbed the stairs barefoot. The bedroom door was closed and I nudged it open with my shoulder. Everything inside me stopped as I processed the view in front of me. It was Marco—My husband. On top of Elisa. My best friend. In our bed. His hands gripped her waist and her nails dug into his back with her legs wrapped around his waist. My emerald shawl….the one I had left on the bed that morning……lay crumpled on the floor beneath them. Marco looked up first. His eyes met mine and he froze for one second and then nothing. His face didn't show panic, no guilt or shame…….just annoyance. "Ava," he said calmly. "You weren’t supposed to be home yet." Elisa turned and I watched as the color drained from her face. "Oh my God…" She said as she scrambled to pull the sheets over herself. "Ava… I…" She couldn’t finish and I couldn’t breathe. The cake slipped from my hands onto the cold marble floor but I didn't care as I played everything in my head. Every hour I had spent getting ready. Every compliment Elisa had given me. Every anniversary plan. Every promise Marco had ever made. All of it had been shattered in one moment. My hands were trembling and I tried to get them to stop but I couldn't. "Get off her," I whispered. Marco sighed as though I had interrupted an important meeting. He climbed off the bed without rushing, picked up a pair of trousers, and pulled them on before lighting a cigarette. The smell made my stomach turn. He knew I hated the smell of cigarettes. "Ava…" He started in a nonchalant tone. "This isn’t how I wanted you to find out." For one stupid second, I hoped he regretted it and called it a mistake. Then he opened the dresser drawer, and pulled out a folder, and tossed it onto the bed. "Since you’re here," he said. "You might as well sign these." I looked at the papers lying on the bed. They were divorce papers, already signed, dated and prepared. This wasn’t a mistake, it had already been planned. I looked at him in disbelief. "You invited me to celebrate our anniversary…" "...knowing you were going to divorce me?" He took another drag from his cigarette. "I was waiting for the right time." "The right time?" My voice cracked. "You cheated on me with my best friend." Marco shrugged as if all of this was normal. "Our marriage stopped working a long time ago." His eyes swept over me. "You’ve never been what this family needed." I thought he was done but he continued: "My father expected me to marry someone with status. Someone respected. Someone who looked the part." "You told me your family was comfortable." He said as he took another drag of a cigarette. "You let me believe you were not a liability” His laugh was cold and mocking. "But you’re just a nobody, Ava. A plus-size woman with no name. Five years and no heir. You are a mistake I kept around for far too long." Beside him, Elisa finally found her voice and tears filled her eyes. "I’m sorry, I really am. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this." I looked at her and asked only one question. "How long?" She fell silent and lowered her head but I wasn't having it. "Elisa." I screamed. "Almost a year." She blurted out in tears. "A year," I whispered to myself. It had been three hundred and sixty-five days of lies. Birthday dinners. Girls’ nights. Shopping trips. Hugs. Every single one of them had been fake. Marco exhaled smoke. Then he said the thing that killed me. “And she’s pregnant, Ava." He nodded toward Elisa like he was announcing a promotion. “She’s carrying my heir. The son my father actually wanted. So sign the papers. Don’t make this ugly." The room went silent. Elisa was pregnant….with his heir. The candles I had bought were still inside the box, unlit like us. I picked up the pen and signed my name. Ava Moretti. Then I slid the papers back across the bed. Marco frowned. "You aren’t going to fight for us?" I looked him straight in the eyes. "No." His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I won’t fight for a man who already replaced me. And I won’t compete with a woman who calls herself my friend." I turned to Elisa. She was clutching the sheet to her stomach like that made it better. "Congratulations," I said. My voice was dead. “You get him. You get the name. You get the baby." I walked toward the door but stopped midway. Without turning around, I said quietly, "One day you’ll remember this night." "I won’t," Marco replied bitterly. I walked out barefoot, still wearing the dress I had hoped would make my husband fall in love with me again but instead……… It became the dress I wore when I buried my marriage. I didn’t take Marco’s car, I wanted nothing of his. I drove my old Honda straight to the airport. By midnight, I was on a private jet, and by four in the morning, I was kneeling before my father in Sicily. My emerald dress was wrinkled and my mascara had long since dried. He looked at me once and that was all it took. "They hurt you." It wasn’t a question but I nodded. "They think I’m nobody." My father smiled. It wasn’t warm, it was dangerous. It was the smile that had made governments negotiate… …and enemies disappear. He reached down and lifted me to my feet. “Then it’s time they learned exactly whose daughter they threw away." My phone vibrated. Marco: Come back. We can handle this quietly. Sign the NDA. Elisa: I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me. The baby— I stared at both messages for a long moment and then I switched off the phone, walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, and threw it into the Mediterranean. Let Marco believe he divorced a nobody. Let the Moretti family celebrate their heir. Because very soon… They would discover they had declared war on the Romano family.