Betrayed by My Mafia Brother novel Chapter 12

Chapter 3

When the crowd of wiseguys finally dispersed, Victoria left, supporting a drunken Lewis.

From the shadows of a nearby alley, I watched them cling to each other, their mouths meeting in a hungry,

desperate kiss.

Maybe they had held back for too long, because as soon as they slid into the back of his armored town car,

the vehicle began to rock on its suspension with a violent, rhythmic intensity.

I said nothing. My face was stone. I simply raised my phone and recorded everything, the cold lens capturing

every sordid movement.

Then I made a call. Only one person could hear this now.

“Emily?” Andrew’s voice was alert, cutting through the static. “It’s late. What’s wrong?”

The sound of his voice, familiar and safe, shattered the dam inside me. I couldn’t hold back anymore-tears I

didn’t know I had left spilled hot and fast down my cheeks.

“Hey… piccolina, are you crying?”

I choked, the sobs ripping through me, making speech impossible.

“Emily. Where are you?” Andrew’s voice was sharp, immediate.

I managed to mumble out the name of the street, my voice thick with tears.

In under half an hour, a convoy of black SUVS pulled up silently, Andrew emerged from the lead vehicle, his imposing figure cutting a stark silhouette under the dim streetlight. He found me curled up on the cold stone steps of a closed shop, my body wracked with tremors.

He didn’t speak. He just took off his tailored overcoat and draped it over my shoulders, the weight and residual warmth a small anchor in my chaos. Then he sat quietly beside me.

“Where is Lewis?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“He’s betrayed his vow,” I whispered, the words tasting like poison. “With Victoria.”

Andrew went perfectly still. I could see the muscle in his jaw clench tight, a ticking time bomb of fury.

“Where is he? Give me the address. I’ll put a bullet in his head myself.”

I grabbed his arm quickly, my grip surprisingly strong. “No. Don’t. He’s not worth the blood on your hands, Andrew. He’s not worth the war it might start.”

Chapter 3

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Furious, he slammed the heel of his polished shoe against the pavement, the sound cracking through the quiet night. It did nothing to cool the inferno in his eyes.

He turned back to me, his gaze softening only a fraction. “So, It’s divorce, then?”

I didn’t hesitate. I nodded, my resolve hardening even through the tears.

“Any chance this is a misunderstanding? A setup?” he asked, ever the strategist.

Wordlessly, I handed him my phone, the damning evidence still on the screen. I let him scroll through the

videos and the photos I had collected-the kiss, the rocking car, the intimate lunch in his office.

I didn’t need to say anything more. He understood immediately. This wasn’t a rumor; it was a death sentence

for Lewis’s career.

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