Betrayed by My Mafia Brother novel Chapter 17

Chapter 8

The commotion at the party had grown too noticeable, drawing Andrew over. His mere presence caused the

surrounding chatter to die down to a respectful murmur.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice low but carrying an undeniable authority.

Before I could formulate a response, Signora Rossi gave him a clear, concise, and damning explanation, her

tone leaving no doubt about Victoria’s instigation.

Andrew’s gaze, cold and sharp as a stiletto, shifted to Victoria. His tone was flat, leaving no room for

negotiation.

“Apologize. Now.”

Everyone in the immediate vicinity knew Victoria and Lewis were there as supplicants, begging for Andrew’s

favor. In this moment, she had no leverage, no choice but to swallow the bitter pill of her humiliation.

She clenched her jaw, the muscles in her neck corded with tension. A strained, resentful “Sorry” was forced

past her lips, her eyes burning with a hatred she couldn’t fully conceal.

Then, as if grasping for any shred of dignity, as if reminded that Andrew had already coldly rejected her

proposal, she added with a venomous chill,

“Mr. Andolini, the woman you’re so publicly championing… she’s another man’s discarded problem. I wonder

if your wife, Sophia, is aware of just how… familiar you are with her.”

Andrew let out a short, sharp laugh that held no amusement, only contempt.

“If you’re feeling brave, Consigliere, by all means, go and tell my wife. I’d be fascinated to see her reaction.”

The circle of onlookers erupted in a unified scoff of derision before they tactfully dispersed, not wanting to

be associated with her fatal miscalculation.

After that, I remained comfortably seated near Andrew, enjoying the fine food and wine, an unspoken shield

around me. Those with any sense knew better than to approach or cause further trouble.

As for Victoria, after hitting the impenetrable wall of Andrew’s disdain, she tried desperately to circulate, to

approach other potential allies in the room. But it was as if an invisible quarantine had been placed upon her.

The word had spread.

No one would meet her eyes. No one accepted the business cards she proffered. One Capo from a neutral

family even took the card she offered and let it flutter from his fingers onto the floor, stepping over it as if it

were garbage.

Chapter 8

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It was, without a doubt, the most profoundly humiliating moment of her professional life within the underworld.

And then Lewis arrived.

Victoria, her eyes red-rimmed and her composure in tatters, went straight to him, her words a frantic, hushed

torrent. He spent a few moments trying to soothe her, his posture stiff, before he detached himself and

started making his way toward my corner of the room.

Andrew, who had been watching the entire scene, furrowed his brow. “Do you want me to have my men

escort him out?”

I shook my head, a strange calm settling over me.

“No need. I’d like to hear what he has to say for himself. You go ahead and mingle. If I need anything, I’ll

signal.”

Andrew understood immediately and melted back into the crowd without another word.

Lewis took the seat opposite me. His features were still classically handsome, those sharp eyes that could once mesmerize me still held their intensity.

But now they were shadowed by a deep weariness he couldn’t disguise. The pressure was clearly taking its

toll.

“Emily,” he said, his voice softer than I’d heard it in a long time. “It’s been a while.”

“Mm.”

Of course, he had no idea I’d watched him from the upstairs window, pacing outside my family’s gates like a desperate salesman just the week before. “So this is your new path?” he asked, a hint of disgust in his tone.

I blinked, feigning innocence. “What path?”

“Degrading yourself. Becoming some powerful man’s mistress.

So that was his assumption. He saw me sitting with Andrew and jumped to the most sordid conclusion.

I raised a brow. “Hmm?”

He gave me a bitter, cynical smile. “You gave up being Signora Corleone just to become Andrew Andolini’s dirty little secret? You think this is a victory?”

I shrugged, deciding to play along with his delusion. “It’s not a bad arrangement. Could certainly be worse.” His tone hardened, slipping back into the commanding Don. “Enough of this foolishness. We can tear up that

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divorce agreement. Consider it null. Come back to where you belong. You are still Mrs. Corleone.”

I laughed aloud, the sound genuine in its disbelief. “What in God’s name are you talking about?”

He exhaled deeply, as if explaining something to a stubborn child. “I understand. You’re trying to punish me.

But this isn’t the way. Trading your youth and beauty for a powerful man’s fleeting attention is meaningless.

You’ll get nothing from him in the end. Andolini will never leave his wife for you. Don’t waste your time on

this pathetic revenge.’

I stayed quiet, letting him dig his grave deeper.

“You walked away, and I let you go. I wanted you to experience a taste of life without my protection. I never imagined you would stoop this low.”

He had the gall to look pained. “Yes, what happened with Victoria… was a mistake. But she has bled for this Family. She has taken on burdens you can’t imagine. She’s the one who secured ninety percent of our territory deals and supply lines. I need her.”

His ‘apology’ was just another justification. “You should understand the demands of leadership, instead of clinging to a rival Don’s coattails just to spite me. It’s a cheap tactic.”

I gave him a cold, brittle smile.

“You’ve gotten a few crucial details wrong, Lewis.”

“Oh?” he asked, his arrogance still intact.

I picked up a small, sharp cheese knife from the platter in front of me, twirling it idly between my fingers.

Then I said, slowly and clearly, “Most of the lucrative territory deals and weapons shipments Victoria ‘secured… came through the Andolini syndicate. And the man who commands that syndicate is my brother,

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