Betrayed by My Mafia Brother novel Chapter 16

Chapter 7

When I returned to the Andolini family compound, Andrew was embroiled in a territorial dispute, too busy to see me. So, my sister-in-law, Sophia, took me to our family’s villas in Sicily instead. We wandered through ancient streets, shopping for things that couldn’t be bought with blood money, and slowly, the icy knot in my

heart began to thaw.

If Lewis hadn’t shown up at the heavily guarded gates of our estate, I might have almost forgotten the sound

of his voice.

From the upstairs window of the main house, I saw him standing at the imposing iron gates, holding elaborately wrapped gifts. A dull, phantom ache flickered in my chest-a relic of a love long dead.

Sophia noticed my stillness and came to stand beside me, her voice gentle. “Since your brother cut off Lewis’s access to the port authorities and his weapons supplier, that woman, Victoria, has been crawling out of the woodwork. She’s been trying to renegotiate terms, begging for a sit-down. But she knows her place.”

She never dares to come to the house, only ambushes Andrew’s men at their clubs. Your brother hasn’t granted her an audience. Now it seems Lewis’s organization is truly feeling the pinch, so he’s come himself, hat in hand. Do you want me to have the guards let him in?”

She must have seen the complex shadow that passed over my face.

I shook my head, the gesture firm. “No. Andrew isn’t a reckless man. If Lewis could offer him something of unparalleled value-something no one else could-then perhaps he’d listen. Otherwise, why would my brother bother with a sinking ship?”

Sophia nodded, placing a comforting hand on my arm. “Your brother only worries that you haven’t fully let go of the past.”

“There’s nothing left to let go of,” I said, my voice even. “Since the divorce papers were signed, Lewis hasn’t reached out once. Not a call, not a message. That silence speaks volumes. If I hold no place in his heart, why should I reserve one for him in mine? Don’t worry, Sophia, I’m fine, Whatever business decision Andrew makes, it’s his alone.”

She gave a faint, understanding smile and instructed the security detail to send Lewis away.

But the next day, he came again.

1171

This time, the gifts were different-rarer, more personal, the kind of thoughtful, detailed gestures that had once made him seem so warm, so dependable.

For a whole week, he appeared like clockwork. When he was denied entry, he would wait by the gates. Sometimes he remained there from first light until long after dusk, a picture of penitent determination.

12.31%

Honestly… if he had been there to ask for me, for another chance, to beg for my forgiveness… I might not

have had the heart to let him stand there in vain.

But I knew, with a certainty that chilled my soul, he was only there for business.

Finally, Sophia called Andrew and asked him to resolve the situation, not wanting me to be confronted with this painful specter day after day.

Andrew handled it with cold efficiency. He didn’t reveal our familial connection. Instead, he sent one of his Consiglieri to meet with Lewis, delivering a clear, unequivocal message: The Corleone family was no longer a viable partner. Their operations were inefficient, their security compromised, and their reputation was becoming a liability. The Andolini family would be seeking alliances elsewhere.

Lewis, ever the pragmatist, accepted the verdict without public protest. The message was from a business superior, not a jilted brother-in-law. There was no one to fight.

After that, he stopped appearing at our gates.

But fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.

At a high-stakes gathering hosted by Andrew-a lavish party doubling as a showcase for new… logistical channels-countless underworld elites were in attendance. I had nothing better to do, so I tagged along, content to stay in the background.

Sophia suggested I wear something that commanded respect, but I couldn’t be bothered. I wore simple, understated clothes, planning to sample the exquisite food and slip away unnoticed.

Halfway through my meal, a sharp, deliberate shove from behind sent me stumbling. The glass of sparkling water in my hand sloshed, drenching the elegant gown of a formidable-looking woman I recognized as Signora Rossi, a respected figure from an old-money family with deep political ties.

I quickly apologized, my manners automatic.

Before she could respond, a sickeningly familiar voice cut through the murmuring crowd.

“Signora Rossi, such a pity. That is a genuine Scavia silk gown. The cost to replace it must be astronomical.”

I turned and saw Victoria, draped in a striking, blood-red designer dress,

It had been a while since I’d last seen her, and the sight was even more grating than I remembered.

“My sincerest apologies, Signora Rossi,” I said again, quickly. “Please, send me the bill. I will cover the cost of the cleaning, or the dress itself.”

Signora Rossi was dabbing at the stain with a napkin, about to reply, when Victoria cut her off with a

Chapter 7

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify