Everyone in the Mafia knew that Viktor Castro, Don of the Castro family, adored his wife.

When I complained that New York winters were too cold, he wiped out a rival Miami crew just to claim a private estate where I could escape the snow.

When I told him I wanted romance, he lit up the Manhattan skyline and swore on the honor of his family:

"Isabella, I will never betray you."

He planted roses for me at the old family estate in Sicily and vowed before the heads of the family that I would be the only woman he would ever love.

He broke a century-old rule and handed me control of the family's most important businesses, giving me authority equal to his own.

But tonight, tangled in our sheets, I found a pair of black lace panties.

And they were not mine.

I stared at the black lace panties in my hand, momentarily frozen.

Today was our wedding anniversary.

Viktor had told me he rented out the entire beachfront hotel so we could celebrate alone.

The sound of running water stopped.

Viktor stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets sliding down the hard lines of his chest. Even after all these years, he still carried that dangerous, intoxicating presence that made people instinctively look at him twice.

He walked toward me with the warm smile a husband should have on an anniversary night.

I threw the panties at him.

"What is this?"

The lace fabric fell onto the carpet.

For the briefest second, Viktor's gaze darkened. Then his expression returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

He smiled and pulled me into his arms, resting his chin lightly on top of my head.

"The hotel staff must've missed it while cleaning. Don't let something this disgusting ruin our anniversary."

I pushed him away and reached for the room phone.

"I'm calling the hotel manager."

His hand immediately closed around my wrist, firm enough to stop me.

"Bella, I'll handle it. You don't need to worry about something so trivial."

Then he buttoned his shirt and left the suite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, bored and restless, scrolling through Instagram on my phone.

The algorithm pushed a new post onto my feed.

It was from Mia, Viktor's half-sister.

In the photo, she was posing provocatively in a pair of black lace panties. The caption read:

'Lost my favorite lace panties. So sad~ Every time I wear them, my boyfriend makes me feel amazing.'

Below the post, an anonymous account had commented:

[Don't be sad, baby. They're with me.]

My fingers tightened around the phone as I enlarged the photo.

The design. The lace pattern.

They were identical to the pair I had just found tangled in our bed sheets.

I zoomed in further on the background.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched a crescent-shaped shoreline that matched the exact view outside the presidential suite I was staying in.

My fingers froze over the screen.

Just as I was about to scroll through more of Mia's posts, the suite door opened.

Viktor walked back in holding a blue velvet box.

"Babe, those panties were part of some ridiculous complimentary gift the hotel prepared for VIP guests. Since you didn't like them, I threw them away."

He picked the panties up from the carpet and casually tossed them into the trash.

The movement was smooth. Natural.

If I had not noticed the white stain on the fabric earlier, I might actually have believed his lie.

Viktor did not notice the change in my expression. He opened the velvet box, revealing a diamond necklace inside.

"I had this custom made for you by Julian Pereira."

Julian Pereira was my favorite jewelry designer. I had only mentioned him once at an auction years ago, yet Viktor still remembered.

"Happy anniversary, Bella."

I looked at the necklace and felt nothing but disgust.

He was just about to fasten it around my neck when his phone rang.

Caller ID: Mia.

Viktor rejected the call immediately.

A second later, the phone rang again.

He declined it once more, then shut his phone off completely.

"Try it on."

His voice remained gentle as he picked the necklace back up.

Then my phone rang.

Caller ID: Mia.

Viktor's expression stiffened for a split second, panic flashing across his eyes.

I picked up the phone and answered the call.

Before I could say anything, Viktor snatched my phone from my hand, his expression turning cold.

"Mia. Bella and I are celebrating our anniversary. Don't interrupt us."

Soft sobbing came from the other end of the call.

Viktor's tone immediately softened.

"What happened?"

Mia was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

"Viktor... I ran into a Capo from the Camorra. He almost..." She broke down into sobs. "I almost got assaulted."

Viktor's face changed instantly. His jaw tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

He hung up, then turned and pulled me into his arms, guilt written all over his face.

"Bella, something happened to Mia. I need to go."

He hesitated briefly before adding, "You know my father made me promise to take care of her before he died."

I looked at him and almost laughed.

What a devoted brother.

Devoted enough to sleep with her.

Suppressing the wave of disgust rising in my throat, I forced out a smile.

"Go ahead. Be careful."

"I'll make it up to you when I get back."

Viktor kissed my forehead and strode out of the room.

The moment his footsteps disappeared down the hallway, I immediately called the hotel manager.

"Luca, pull the security footage from outside Presidential Suite 520 and send it to me."

This seaside hotel was one of the Palma family's private properties, hidden from the public eye.

The footage arrived quickly.

The timestamp showed forty minutes earlier.

In the video, Mia slipped out of Suite 520 with flushed cheeks and disheveled clothes, sneaking down the hallway like a thief.

My stomach dropped.

I opened Mia's Instagram page.

She updated constantly, posting suggestive photos with her boyfriend for attention. She had built a decent following online, somewhere between influencer and minor celebrity.

A new post had just gone up.

It was a heavily censored bedroom photo, paired with a mocking caption:

'My boyfriend was way too intense last night. My legs are still weak today. Unlike certain older women who can only rely on toys.'

The lighting in the picture was dim, making the man's face impossible to see.

However, the tattoo across his chest stood out with brutal clarity.

"VIY."

My hands instantly went cold.

V-I-Y.

Viktor Loves Isabella Yolanda.

He had gotten that tattoo the day before our wedding.

On our wedding night, he held my hand and told me, "These letters will stay with me for the rest of my life. My loyalty is carved into my heart."

And now that same tattoo appeared in a photo of him in bed with his stepsister.

My vision darkened with rage. I shut my eyes and took several slow breaths before forcing myself to calm down.

Then I left the suite and headed toward the hotel restaurant downstairs.

I needed a drink.

I needed silence.

However, the moment I reached the entrance to the second-floor restaurant and raised my hand to push the door open, I froze.

A woman's breathless moans drifted from inside, mixed with a man's rough breathing and the dull scraping of furniture against the floor.

My hand stopped midair.

Through the narrow gap in the half-open door, I looked inside.

Mia was straddling a man on top of one of the dining tables, the two of them tangled together shamelessly.

The man's broad back was painfully familiar.

I had stared at that back for seven years.

It was Viktor.

Mia's voice was soft and cloying.

"Why are you in such a hurry, big brother? Couldn't even wait until we got back to the room?"

Viktor let out a low breath.

"You came here dressed like that just to tempt me. How was I supposed to resist?"

Mia laughed lightly.

"You put me in Room 169, three floors away from your Suite 520 with Isabella. I wanted Room 521 right next to you. Would've made it easier for you to sneak over."

"Stop it." Viktor's voice carried unmistakable indulgence. "Your sister-in-law is upstairs. Keep your voice down."

Mia giggled.

"What's there to be scared of? It's lunchtime. Isabella never comes downstairs when we stay at hotels."

She deliberately dragged out the next sentence.

"Besides, didn't you say she's like a lifeless doll in bed? She can't even make a sound. You only like hearing me."

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

Then I stepped back and pulled out my phone.

[Bring the micro cameras to Room 169. I want everything installed within five minutes.]

The reply came almost instantly.

[Understood, Principessa.]

I took a slow breath and walked toward the restaurant entrance.

My heels struck sharply against the marble floor, each deliberate step echoing through the corridor.

Then I stopped at the doorway and shouted:

"Mia? Is that you in there?"

The noises inside suddenly stopped.

Then Mia's voice rang out from the room, flustered yet still carrying that infuriating arrogance of hers.

"Don't come in, Isabella! I'm with my boyfriend!"

I let out a cold laugh.

"Boyfriend? Weren't you just calling him 'big brother'? I almost thought..."

"That's just a little thing couples do," Mia cut in immediately. "Viktor just helped me deal with someone who was harassing me. There are also a few traitors in the family that need to be taken care of. He'll come back after he finishes handling family business."

"Your brother treats you so well. As your sister-in-law, I should show some concern too." I smiled faintly. "Why don't I help you check whether this boyfriend of yours is actually worthy of you?"

Without waiting for a response, I shoved the half-open door and walked in.

"Isabella!"

Mia shrieked as she scrambled off the dining table. At the same time, a muffled groan from a man slipped through the room. Behind her, a large tablecloth had been yanked down in a hurry, covering the upper half of the man lying on the table.

Viktor did not move.

He lay there stiffly, frozen in place.

"My boyfriend isn't wearing clothes! What kind of woman barges in like this? Don't you have any shame?" Mia spread her arms to block my path, the panic in her eyes quickly turning into open provocation.

Her neck and collarbone were covered in deep red marks.

"If you take one more step forward, I'll tell my brother you were trying to stare at my boyfriend's body. You're the one cheating."

I almost laughed from sheer disbelief.

"That build really does look a lot like your brother's.

"Mia, are you this desperate to stop me because you found a boyfriend based on my husband's exact type... or because the man lying on that table actually is my husband?"

I walked straight toward her.

Enraged, Mia grabbed a wine bottle from the bar counter and smashed it at my feet.

"Just because you're my sister-in-law doesn't mean you get to slander me! If you don't leave right now, I'll sue you for defamation!"

Glass exploded across the marble floor. A sharp shard sliced across my ankle, and blood immediately streamed down my skin.

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.

Hard.

Her head snapped to the side and she stumbled backward before collapsing onto the floor.

She clutched her cheek, staring at me in complete shock.

"Slandering you? Hitting you already dirtied my hands."

As I looked at her stunned expression, memories came rushing back one after another.

Viktor sitting on the sofa reading family reports while Mia casually picked up his coffee cup and drank from the exact spot his lips had touched, all while staring directly at me.

At family gatherings, she would wear revealing dresses and, after only a couple drinks, collapse dramatically into Viktor's arms. He would hold her close and laugh it off.

"Mia can't handle alcohol."

And one night, when I got up for water, I passed by Viktor's study and saw her leaning against the doorway in a silk nightdress, her voice soft and syrupy.

"Viktor, I had a nightmare. Can you stay with me tonight?"

Back then, I thought it was just dependency between siblings.

Viktor told me she had lost her father young and lacked a sense of security. He asked me to be more understanding.

And I believed him.

For Viktor's sake, I swallowed every bit of discomfort and disgust.

But looking back now, none of that was innocent sibling affection.

It was an affair happening right in front of me.

Every flirtatious smile, every act of dependence, every crossed boundary... it had all been deliberate.

A challenge directed straight at me.

Years of resentment exploded at once.

I grabbed Mia by the hair and slammed her head against the cold marble counter with a heavy crack.

"Let go of me! Are you insane?!" she screamed, struggling wildly.

I pinned the back of her head down with all my strength while raising my other hand, ready to pour years of humiliation onto her face in a single blow.

Then my phone rang.

Viktor's custom ringtone.

A text message.

[Darling, I'll be back soon. Thanks for taking care of Mia.]

Even while hiding under that tablecloth, he had still found time to text me because he was afraid I would hurt her.

The moment Mia saw the change in my expression, she seemed to understand instantly. She stopped struggling. The anger on her face slowly twisted into smug satisfaction.

I tightened my grip on the phone, forcing myself not to smash it directly into her face.

Then another message came through.

It was from one of my men.

"Principessa, the camera in Room 169 is in position."

Fine.

If they wanted to put on a show, I would give them a performance they would never forget.

I took a slow breath and coldly threw out one final sentence.

"Take your dog of a man and get out."

Then I turned and walked away without looking back.