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The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All Novel Cover

The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All

I stood at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the daughter of New York’s most feared Don, ready to lower myself to marry a common soldier. Then, a toddler in the front pew shrieked, "Daddy." Liam didn't squeeze my hand for reassurance. He dropped it like it was a branding iron. In front of five hundred of the criminal elite, he ran down the aisle, scooping up his secret child and the mistress who had been blackmailing him. He left me standing there, humiliated and alone. Three months later, the "Jilted Princess" title still clung to me. Yet, Liam had the audacity to bring her to my father's birthday gala. Sarah, wearing a dress far too tight and a smug smile, cornered me in the middle of the ballroom. She wanted to twist the knife. "He hates you, you know," she screamed, loud enough for the Dons and Capos to hear. "He says sleeping with you was like sleeping with a statue. He chose real love! He chose a family!" The room went deathly silent. Liam looked at me with pity, thinking he had won. He thought I was broken. He thought I was alone. I took a slow sip of my champagne and set the glass down. "I am not alone, Sarah," I said calmly. I turned toward the shadows near the entrance. "Ethan?" I called out. The crowd parted instantly for the scarred, lethal man who stepped forward—The Ghost of Chicago, the most feared Underboss in Europe. He walked over and wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist. "I’d like you to meet my husband," I told a horrified Liam. "And our daughter is waiting upstairs."
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Chapter 11

Ava Vitiello POV

The silence in the ballroom was absolute—the kind of heavy, suffocating stillness that usually precedes a gunshot.

Liam stared at me. His mouth hung open, a mask of shock that stripped away whatever dignity he had left.

"Husband?" he repeated. The word sounded foreign on his tongue, as if he couldn't quite comprehend the syllables.

Ethan shifted beside me. The movement was subtle—a mere tightening of his arm around my waist—yet the threat radiating from him was loud enough to deafen the room.

"You heard her, Rossi," Ethan said. His voice was low, a rumble of thunder that didn't need volume to be terrifying.

Liam took a step forward, his eyes wild as they darted between me and the scar running down Ethan's cheek.

"You... you can't be married," Liam stammered. "You're Ava. You're mine. We were supposed to..."

He reached for me. It was pure instinct, a muscle memory from a life that had died five years ago.

Before his fingers could even graze the silk of my dress, Ethan moved.

He didn't strike him. He didn't need to. He simply stepped in front of me—a wall of black tuxedo and lethal intent—and caught Liam's wrist in mid-air.

Ethan's grip looked effortless, but I saw Liam's knees buckle. I saw the blood drain from his face as the pressure on his bones ratcheted up.

"Touch my wife again," Ethan whispered, the promise of violence distinct, "and I will remove the hand."

Liam gasped, yanking his arm back as Ethan released him with a shove. He stumbled, catching himself on a high-top table and knocking over a vase of white roses.

The water spilled across the floor, soaking into the carpet like a dark bloodstain.

"You betrayed me," Liam choked out. He looked at me over Ethan's shoulder, his eyes wet with tears of self-pity. "You let me believe you were alone. You let me think there was a chance."

I stepped out from behind Ethan's protection. I didn't need a shield for this. I needed to be the sword.

"I didn't betray you, Liam," I said. "I survived you."

Sarah let out a screech of laughter behind him—a broken, jagged sound.

"She's lying!" Sarah yelled, though her voice trembled. "She's just trying to make you jealous, Liam! Look at him! He's a thug! A scarred freak!"

Ethan didn't even blink. A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep.

Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my phone from my clutch.

I unlocked the screen and opened my contacts. I found the number I had never deleted, the one that had once been the first person I called in the morning and the last person I texted at night.

Liam watched me. He saw his own name glowing on the screen.

I tapped the info icon and scrolled down to the bottom.

Block Caller.

I turned the screen toward him so he could see. My thumb hovered over the red text.

"Ava, don't," he whispered. "Please."

I pressed it.

The contact vanished into the digital void.

I looked at him one last time, searching for the boy I used to love, the ambitious soldier who wanted to rule the world.

But I didn't see him. I only saw a stranger in an ill-fitting suit, drowning in his own choices.

"Goodbye, Liam."

I turned my back on him and took Ethan's arm.

Leo and four of our family's enforcers stepped in to form a human wall between us and the wreckage of my past.

We walked toward the exit. I didn't look back. I didn't need to see him fall to know he was already on the ground.

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