My Mafia Husband's Sister, His Greatest Sin

In the seventh year of my arranged marriage to Dante Moretti, he forgot the anniversary of my father's death. Again. All for his precious "sister," Isabella.

He’d offered a hollow apology over the phone, his voice dripping with casual indifference.

"Nora, I'm sorry. You know Isabella just got back from Europe."

"As her brother, I had to throw her a welcome party."

Of course, I knew.

I even knew they were locked in a passionate kiss on the party's terrace.

They hid their sordid affair behind the convenient guise of being siblings.

After seven years of silent tolerance, I’d reached my breaking point.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror and said only one thing.

"Choose. Me, or her."

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1

When I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Moretti manor, the party was in full swing.

Under the shimmering crystals of the chandelier, Dante looked up, his arm wrapped possessively around Isabella's waist.

"Nora."

He frowned, his tone glacial. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Today was the anniversary of my father's death. A month ago, Dante had sworn he’d be with me at the church.

I asked him, "Dante, have you already forgotten your promise to me?"

A flicker of guilt crossed Dante's face, but it vanished in an instant.

"Nora, I'm sorry. Isabella needed me," he deflected, already hiding behind her name.

Of course, I knew. I also knew they had kissed on the terrace, their bodies entwined in the shadows.

Sharing an intimacy reserved for lovers, all under the guise of family.

Everyone here was an accomplice; no one would dare breathe a word against them.

After seven years of biting my tongue, I refused to endure it a moment longer.

I looked at Dante and the woman beside him, Isabella, and uttered one final ultimatum.

"Choose. Me, or her."

"Nora." It was Isabella who broke the tense silence.

"Please, don't be angry. It was my fault, I insisted on clinging to Dante."

"Don't worry, I'll go back to Europe right away."

"I don't want to be the cause of any trouble in the family."

Her voice trembled, her eyes wide and innocent, like a frightened fawn.

Dante’s anger melted into concern. He patted her back, his touch soothing.

But the look he gave me was as cold as steel.

"Nora, stop being unreasonable."

His voice was a low growl, a warning he reserved for a disobedient soldato.

I let out a cold laugh. "Dante, do you remember this is an arranged marriage?"

"I will say this only once, and I mean it."

"Either you walk out that door with me now, or I walk out of the Moretti family forever. Your choice."