The Mafia's Substitute Blind Wife

I saved a dying mobster three years ago. Vincent Ricci—New York's most feared Godfather.

He decided I was his. Private jets, five-million-dollar proposals, the whole nine yards. I fell for it.

The night before our wedding, his enemies took me. Three days of torture left me blind. Everyone said he'd never marry damaged goods. He married me anyway and spent three years treating me like a queen.

Yesterday I fell down the stairs and my sight came back.

But that's when I found out about my perfect husband's dirty secret.

...

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears everywhere, but not from pain, from light. Three fucking years of nothing, and now—

I can see.

I blinked and the ceiling sharpened into focus, white plaster, fancy molding, that crystal chandelier.

Oh my God. I can actually see.

I laughed, then cried, then both at the same time.

Yesterday I was heading downstairs by myself like I always do, holding onto the railing. Then I totally missed the last step, and boom, I went down headfirst. Smashed my head straight onto the marble floor. Everything went black and I passed out right there.

But here's the crazy part, it was actually a blessing in disguise. I can see again.

I pushed myself up, my heart going crazy.

Vincent. Oh God, Vincent.

I had to find him right now. Three years of touching his face in the dark, and now I could finally see him again, really see him, watch his face light up when I told him. Jesus, I'd been waiting forever for this.

I ran out of the room. I had to find him and tell him.

I heard voices coming from nearby. Vincent's voice, low, intimate.

I followed it to the second-floor balcony. The doors were half-open, I was about to call out when I heard her.

"I can't keep doing this, Vince." A woman breathed softly.

I froze just outside the balcony, hidden by the doorframe. Through the gap I could see them. Vincent in his suit, and a blonde woman in red pressed up against him.

I saw them kissing, her whole body pressed against his.

My blood ran cold. No, this can't be real.

Then they pulled apart, and she gently caressed his face. Watching this, my heart suddenly clenched with pain.

She had to be Victoria Castellano, Vincent's childhood friend.

"Vic, I know you've been patient," Vincent said. "But you know why I had to do this."

"I know." Her voice shook. "But three years, Vincent. Three years watching you with her."

"She's just a shield, baby. You know that." Vincent pulled her closer, thumb on her cheek. "Three years ago, Rossi's men were hunting you. I needed to protect you, so I used Emma as a decoy."

What?

The word screamed in my head. Nothing came out. I grabbed the doorframe. My knuckles went white. My legs were shaking.

His arms around her waist. "I spoiled her in public and made everyone believe she was my weakness. So when my enemies came for me, they'd go for her instead of you." He pressed his forehead to Victoria's. "It worked perfectly. Rossi grabbed Emma instead of you. His men tortured her, blinded her... and I thanked God it was her and not you."

The world tilted. I leaned back against the wall, struggling to breathe. Every breath was agony.

No. This isn't real. This can't be real.

"When can we actually be together?" Victoria's fingers in his hair. "For real? I want to be your wife, Vincent. Your real wife. Not her."

"Soon, baby. Real soon." He kissed her again. "Once everything's lined up, I'll divorce her. Maybe she'll have an accident. Or maybe she'll just leave on her own. Either way, you'll get what you want."

They kissed again.

I turned and stumbled away, my hand clamped over my mouth to keep from making a sound. I rushed back to my room, shut the door, and slid down to the floor.

Only then did I let myself fall apart. I sobbed uncontrollably, crying so hard I couldn't even make a sound, my whole body shaking.

He never loved me. He never fucking loved me.

Everything made sense now. That perfect romance. The huge wedding right after I went blind. And all the danger. I'd been shot twice taking bullets for him. Kidnapped and tortured.

And every time, Vincent was there after. Held me through the nightmares. Told me I was his world.

Bullshit. Complete bullshit. I was just bait.

Why would he do this to me? My heart ached with a sharp, stabbing pain. I loved him, but he was using my love to hurt me.

I grabbed it and scrolled to the one name I swore I'd never call.

Raymond Ricci.

Vincent's father. The guy who made it clear from day one I wasn't good enough. Who'd been asking for three years if I wanted a divorce. Who offered me money to disappear so Vincent could marry "someone suitable."

I'd refused every time. Because I loved Vincent.

God, I was such a fool.

I hit call.

"Emma." His voice was rough, surprised. "This is unexpected."

"I want the divorce."