The Cheated Mafia Husband novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Amelia woke to the sharp sting of cigarette smoke. When she walked into the living room, the floor was littered with cigarette butts.

“Did something happen at the casino?” she asked softly.

Jeffrey came to himself but, unlike usual, didn’t bother to put out the cigarette.

“It’s nothing,” he rasped. “Just a small issue at work. It’s handled.”

He didn’t realize how bloodshot his eyes were or how utterly drained

he looked.

His men had told him that Geraldine had gone to a hospital for an

abortion.

That day was the same day he had brought Amelia to the casino, parading her through the empire he and Geraldine had built together, as if to announce its new queen.

And while he was doing that, Geraldine had been lying alone on an operating table, killing their child.

How dare she? Outside, dawn crept in, its pale light illuminating Amelia’s delicate, spotless face.

It was a stark contrast to the bloodstained woman who had dared to erase his bloodline.

Perhaps it was for the best. They were divorced anyway.

If Geraldine wanted to walk away, he would let her. It would only save him the trouble.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, crushing the last of the cigarettes. “I’ll take a shower.”

He stepped into the bathroom and called one of his men.

“Clear out those bastards from Trenton. Not one stays alive. Do it clean, and feed what’s left to the sharks at the port.”

Amelia soon moved into the villa, becoming the new mistress in name.

Jeffrey had tailored gowns and jewelry made for her, and even arranged a comfortable, respectable position for her at the casino.

But with each passing day, an indescribable exhaustion began to seep into his bones.

Every time he came back from the blood and chaos outside, facing Amelia’s innocent, unblemished eyes made him feel as if he were being split in half.

Half of him was the ruthless king of New Jersey’s underworld-cold, commanding, and merciless.

The other half was just a façade, a polished mask of the successful businessman, just the way she imagined him to be.

Just then, he thought of Geraldine.

Only with her could he be himself.

She had never feared the darkness in him. She had aided him in plotting, executing, and wiping out their enemies with ruthless efficiency.

A gold-embossed invitation to The Grand Casino Championship for Jersey sat on his desk, addressed to him and his wife.

Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have even glanced at it.

With Geraldine beside him, every gambling table had been just another stage for their joint conquest, another game they always won.

But now? He couldn’t even remember the last time he had sat at a

table.

Years spent expanding his territory, hiding behind power and blood money, had dulled the edge of his skill.

Even when he humored Amelia with a few rounds, it felt like playing cards with a child.

He had developed a habit of returning alone to the top floor of the casino late at night.

There, surrounded by the remnants of their past, he could almost see the confident Geraldine again.

He had once saved her from drug traffickers and given her shelter.

But after that, she had been the one saving him-winning key battles, eliminating rivals, staining her hands with blood so his wouldn’t have

What they had shared had never been charity. It had been survival. Two predators walking side by side through hell.

Without Geraldine, there would be no Jeffrey.

So why had he turned on her?

Was it because her hands were stained with blood?

Or was it because of the rare moments when she showed her dependence and temper that started to make him resent her?

But why did those same traits in Amelia stir tenderness instead of contempt?

It felt as if something had clamped around his heart and twisted hard, sending a sharp, splintering pain through his chest.

He rose to his feet in a rush.

No.

He had to find Geraldine.

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