When the Perfect Wife Says No

Chloe's POV

I used to think I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Married to my first love, Matteo Rossi—mafia boss—with an adorable son.

Until that afternoon. Luca was running a fever, whining for cake from that shop across town—a four-hour round trip.

I hesitated.

Matteo immediately chimed in: "Go ahead, babe. Don't worry, I got him."

I grabbed the car keys and turned. Before leaving, I glanced back—he was kneeling beside Luca's bed, his large hand gently stroking our son's burning forehead.

What a perfect fucking picture.

Until I heard that GODDAMN surveillance recording.

An hour later, I drove down the highway, humming along to the radio.

My phone suddenly buzzed: "Smart security system has detected an anomaly. Audio monitoring automatically activated."

I frowned. This was the system Matteo installed last year, supposedly to protect Luca and me.

I was about to dismiss the notification when I heard it—

Sounds coming from the master bedroom.

"What if your wife comes back early?" A woman's voice, so sickeningly sweet it made my skin crawl.

My finger froze on the screen.

Matteo's laughter followed—low, dripping with desire: "Relax, Selena. Luca's got us covered. We got plenty of time."

Then came his crude command: "Now, spread your legs."

My hands trembled.

The car swerved on the highway. I forced myself to grip the steering wheel tighter.

No, no, no—this CAN'T be—

Sound of clothes rustling

Panting

Selena's voice came through, quivering with excitement: "God... doing this on HER bed... I'm even wearing HER nightgown... you like that?"

I SLAMMED on the brakes.

The tires screeched against the asphalt as the car skidded to the shoulder. Cars behind me honked furiously, one driver rolling down his window to scream, "FUCK YOU!"

But I couldn't hear him.

All I could hear was—

Matteo's heavy breathing: "You look sexy as FUCK in anything..."

Thudding sounds

More violent thudding

Selena SCREAMED: "YES! Just like that! On your bed... on CHLOE'S bed... this feels so fucking GOOD..."

I threw the car door open, stumbled to the roadside, and dropped to my knees, puking my guts out in the grass.

Stomach acid burned my throat. Tears and snot streamed down my face.

On my phone, that DAMNED audio kept playing.

Selena's voice grew bolder: "Is my skin smoother than hers? I heard she's got this ugly scar on her chest... from taking a bullet for you? How fucking SAD is that?"

I touched the scar on my chest, trembling.

It was from ten years ago.

Matteo's enemy opened fire in a restaurant. I threw myself in front of him instinctively, shielding him with my own body.

When I woke up, Matteo kept kissing my hand, his eyes red: "Chloe, I swear I'll protect you for the rest of my life... I'll only love you... I SWEAR..."

I remembered that kiss.

Remembered his vow.

Every. Single. FUCKING. Word.

Matteo's voice cut through my memories, panting, the thrusting sounds growing more violent: "Don't mention her... you're a hundred times SLUTTIER..."

Selena giggled: "Then why don't you divorce her? Marry me instead. I'm younger, prettier, and WAY better in bed..."

I held my breath.

Matteo suddenly stopped.

"Shut up." His voice turned cold.

Selena whined: "Why? You obviously—"

"My wife can ONLY be Chloe." Matteo's voice twisted. "As for you..."

Suddenly violent thrusting sounds

Selena moaned, then SCREAMED: "Ah! Slower... are you CRAZY..."

Matteo laughed cruelly: "You're my excitement. My little plaything. Isn't it more THRILLING this way? Fucking you behind her back?"

Selena gasped: "You... you're such a PERVERT... but I LOVE it... harder... HARDER..."

Matteo growled: "That's right... scream my name... LOUDER..."

More violent sounds

Selena's hysterical screaming

I knelt in the grass, my nails digging into the dirt.

Suddenly—

Knocking sound

"Daddy!" Luca's bright voice rang out. "You guys gotta hurry up! Mommy drives slow, but you only got less than two hours left!"

Matteo panted: "Got it... son... go play..."

Luca exclaimed excitedly: "Okay! I'll keep watch for you! Don't forget the PlayStation 5 you promised!"

Selena giggled: "Your son's so smart. He faked being sick SO well. Could be a little actor."

Matteo said proudly: "Of course. He's MY son, Matteo Rossi's boy."

Continued panting and screaming

My entire world SHATTERED.

I didn't know how long I knelt there on the roadside.

The sun beat down on my back. Sweat mixed with tears.

Until Luca texted: "Mommy, where are you?"

I stared at the screen, my throat tightening.

Another message: "Is the cake shop really far? I really want some..."

I finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

He was TESTING me.

The son I'd risked my life to bring into this world was testing me—timing when I'd come home.

So his father would have enough time to FINISH fucking that bitch and clean up the scene.

Through my tears, images flashed through my mind—

When I was seven months pregnant, Matteo's enemies came for revenge. They kidnapped me.

I was locked in an abandoned warehouse. They used their gun butts to SHATTER my leg.

"Tell us where Matteo's hiding, or you AND that bastard in your belly DIE."

I clenched my teeth. Didn't say a WORD. Even with my leg broken, I used my body to protect my belly.

When Matteo found me, I'd already lost so much blood I'd fallen unconscious.

Luca was born premature, spent three months in the ICU.

The doctors said I nearly bled out. That I might never be able to have children again.

I didn't care.

I just needed Luca to SURVIVE.

All these years, I carried guilt—guilt for not giving him a healthy body. He was sickly from birth, constantly in and out of hospitals.

I treated him like my ENTIRE world.

I thought he was mine too.

But now—

The child I'd fought to protect was helping his father CHEAT.

Faking illness. Playing lookout. Like some goddamn little accomplice.

What the FUCK was I? An idiot? A JOKE?

Or just some pathetic fool who gave up EVERYTHING for this so-called "family"?

I trembled as I crawled up from the grass, my knees covered in dirt, my clothes filthy.

I didn't care.

My phone buzzed again.

On the screen was a message from Dave:

"Hey Chloe, that offer's still on the table. Chief Research Officer, in Zurich. I know you said family comes first, but... are you sure? This might be your last chance. Let me know by tomorrow?"

A week ago, I'd turned down that job.

"I'm sorry, Dave. Luca's still young, Matteo's business is here. Family matters more to me."

Dave had sighed on the phone: "You sure? This is a top-tier biotech corporation. Seven-figure salary. Your talent shouldn't be wasted on..."

"I'm SURE." I'd cut him off. "Thank you, Dave. But my family needs me here."

Family.

What a fucking JOKE of a word.

I stared at that message, my fingers trembling as I typed:

"Dave, I accept the position."

Send.

Then I typed another line:

"But I need a favor—hook me up with the best divorce lawyer you know."