My mafia boss husband called to say he was spending the night drinking with old classmates.

by

Chapter 9

THEME:
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I reached into my handbag, pulled out a small, brass antique key, and placed it gently on top of the red folder.

Salvatore’s eyes dilated. His mouth fell slightly open.

"You know what that opens," I said. "The private safety deposit box at the Continental Trust on LaSalle Street. The one my grandfather established fifty years ago. Inside is every original ledger, every wire transfer receipt, every offshore account number showing how Moretti money paid off three judges in 1994, two prosecutors in 2002, and the zoning commissioner last spring."

The captains looked at Salvatore in horror. None of them knew the key existed.

"If this divorce is uncontested," I continued, my voice calm, level, and entirely without mercy, "if Vincent signs the quitclaim deed to our Lake Forest home, surrenders his rights to every joint property, and transfers my family’s initial forty percent corporate shares back to the Bennett trust without a penny of compensation... that key stays in my grandfather's safe."

I leaned forward, resting both hands on the table, looking directly into the pale face of the man who had ruled Chicago’s underworld for three decades.

"If you fight me," I said, "if you contest the divorce, if you send so much as a single threat to my doorstep, or if Vincent ever comes within five hundred yards of me again... that key goes directly to the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Illinois by ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

"You'd destroy us all," Donato whispered, horrified.

"I wouldn't destroy you," I answered without looking at him. "Vincent did that when he checked into the Grand Meridian with Sophia Reynolds. I’m just balancing the books."

Vincent stood frozen in the center of the room. He looked at Sophia, who was sobbing into her hands, completely abandoned. He looked at his father, whose head was bowed, defeated and broken. He looked at the five captains—men who had once watched him walk into rooms with pride, now staring at him with unvarnished contempt.

He had destroyed his family’s eighty-year legacy for a night in an executive suite.

"Sign it, Salvatore," Donato said, his voice hard as iron.

"Donato—" Vincent started.

"Shut up, boy!" another captain, an older man named Marco, barked from across the table. "You brought this on your own house! You disgraced your wife, you disgraced your name, and you dragged this family to the edge of a cliff! Sign the damn papers, Salvatore, before she drops the dime on all of us!"

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Table of Contents
My mafia boss husband called to say he was spending the night drinking with old classmates.
TABLE OF CONTENTS 11
01 Chapter 1 02 Chapter 2 03 Chapter 3 04 Chapter 4 05 Chapter 5 06 Chapter 6 07 Chapter 7 08 Chapter 8 09 Chapter 9 10 Chapter 10 11 Chapter 11

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