Her Ex Paraded His Mistress in Front of Everyone, Then the Mafia Boss Asked Her One Question Before Kissing Her

At four o'clock that afternoon, a black town car provided by Dominic brought Chloe back to the Manhattan townhouse she had shared with Derek for three years.

The tall limestone building on West 78th Street had always felt more like a museum than a home. Derek had hired an interior designer to curate every room with cold, grey modern furniture, marble tables, and expensive abstract art designed to impress corporate guests rather than provide comfort.

As Chloe stepped out of the car, she noticed two large black SUVs parked at the curb. Four broad-shouldered men in tailored black suits stood stationed near the front steps, their hands folded neatly in front of them.

Frank, Dominic’s head of security, stepped up beside her.

“My men are inside, Mrs. Bennett,” Frank said calmly. “Mr. Bennett is currently clearing his home office under supervision. You are entirely safe.”

Chloe nodded, holding her cashmere coat closely around her shoulders as she walked up the front steps. Frank opened the grand heavy front door for her.

The interior of the house was in absolute chaos.

Cardboard boxes lined the formal entryway. Suitcases were stacked near the grand staircase. Down the hall, in the primary library, the sound of drawers slamming and angry muffled cursing carried through the quiet house.

Chloe walked down the hallway, her boots clicking softly on the hardwood floor. She stopped at the open doorway of the library.

Derek was standing behind his mahogany desk, frantically pulling files from a filing cabinet and shoving them into a black leather duffel bag. His hair was disheveled, his expensive shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and deep dark circles sat under his bloodshot eyes. He looked like a man who hadn't slept in twenty-four hours.

Standing in the corner of the room, calmly watching Derek’s every move, was one of Dominic’s security guards—a imposing six-foot-four man named Marcus, who looked entirely capable of snapping a tree in half.

Derek pulled out a stack of personal papers, turned around, and froze as his eyes landed on Chloe standing in the doorway.

His expression instantly turned into a sickening mixture of rage, disbelief, and desperate humiliation.

“Chloe,” Derek spat, dropping the papers onto the desk. “You actually showed up to watch, didn't you?”

Chloe stood straight, her hands rested calmly over her bump. She didn't feel the paralyzing fear that used to grip her whenever he raised his voice. Looking at him now, stripped of his expensive corporate veneer and surrounded by guards, she saw him for what he truly was: a weak, small man who had relied entirely on intimidation to feel powerful.

“I came to ensure you left by five o'clock, Derek,” Chloe said, her voice completely calm and level.

Derek let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “You think you’re so clever, don't you? Running straight into the arms of Dominic Moretti! Do you have any idea who that man is? He’s a criminal, Chloe! He’s a cold-blooded gangster who uses corporate fronts to wash dirty money!”

Marcus, the security guard in the corner, took one slow step forward, his dark eyes fixing on Derek. “Watch your mouth, Bennett.”

Derek flinched, stepping back against his desk, though his eyes remained locked on Chloe with furious heat.

“He’s using you, Chloe!” Derek hissed, lowering his voice slightly. “You think he cares about you? You think he cares about that baby? He’s using you to get to my company! He’s using my financial audit to take over Bennett Capital’s midtown developments!”

Chloe looked at him with quiet pity. “Derek, you stole six million dollars from your own investors to pay off gambling debts. You brought your mistress to a public charity gala while I was six months pregnant. You threatened to leave me homeless and penniless in the street. Dominic didn't have to 'use' anything to destroy you. You destroyed yourself.”

Derek’s jaw worked silently. He gripped the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white.

“You signed the papers, Derek,” Chloe continued smoothly. “The house is mine. The accounts are cleared. You have twenty minutes to take your clothes and get out of my life.”

“You won't get away with this,” Derek whispered, his voice trembling with pure venom. “When the board finds out about Moretti’s involvement, they’ll fight the asset transfer! I’ll drag you through civil court for the next ten years!”

At that moment, the front door of the townhouse opened, and the heavy sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Dominic Moretti walked into the library.

He was wearing a black wool overcoat over his dark suit, his silver-tempered hair damp from the light rain outside. He stepped into the room with an effortless, crushing authority that immediately altered the atmosphere in the space.

Derek stopped talking instantly, taking a sharp breath as he pressed his back further against his desk.

Dominic didn't even glance at Derek. He walked straight to Chloe’s side, placing a warm, steadying hand on the small of her back.

“Are you all right, Chloe?” Dominic asked gently, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress.

“I’m fine, Dominic,” Chloe said, offering him a soft, genuine smile. “I was just informing Derek that his time is almost up.”

Dominic finally turned his gaze to Derek. His eyes were cold, flat, and completely devoid of emotion—the look of a man evaluating a minor inconvenience.

“The board of Bennett Capital has already been notified of your resignation, Derek,” Dominic said smoothly. “As of two o'clock this afternoon, the executive committee voted unanimously to remove you as CEO.”

Derek’s eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated horror. “What? You... you can't do that!”

“I bought thirty-five percent of Bennett Capital’s voting shares at twelve o'clock today,” Dominic continued, his tone entirely conversational. “Combined with the pension board’s shares, I now hold controlling interest in your firm. Your corporate credentials have been revoked, your office has been cleared out, and Miss Mercer’s employment contract was officially terminated forty-five minutes ago.”

Derek sank slowly onto his desk chair, looking as though he had been hit by a freight train. His entire life—his status, his company, his wealth, his control—had been completely dismantled in less than twenty-four hours.

Dominic checked his platinum wristwatch.

“It is four-forty-five, Derek. You have fifteen minutes to take your duffel bag and walk out those doors. If you are still on this property at five o'clock, Frank will remove you physically, and the financial records currently sitting on my desk will be delivered directly to the District Attorney’s office.”

Derek looked up at Dominic, then at Chloe. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. The realization of his complete, utter defeat had finally settled in.

He slowly picked up his black duffel bag, stood up, and walked out of the library without looking back.

A few moments later, the heavy mahogany front door slammed shut, echoing through the vast, empty halls of the townhouse.

Silence descended upon the house.

Chloe stood in the middle of the library, looking around the room that had once caused her so much fear and anxiety. It felt different now. The heavy dark air was gone, replaced by a sense of vast, open space.

She turned to Dominic, who was standing quietly beside her, watching her with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold authority he had displayed moments before.

“It’s over,” Chloe whispered, a quiet tear escaping her eye.