She Stayed Silent After the Beating—Until Her Husband Turned Pale When He Saw the Billionaire Mafia Boss Behind Her

Gavin lay on the broken glass, struggling frantically under Gianna’s iron grip, his face turning bright red as he fought for air.

“Who the hell are you?” Gavin choked out, his bloodshot eyes darting frantically between Mateo and Claire. “Get out of my house! I’ll call the cops! I’ll—”

Mateo turned his head slowly.

He walked over to where Gavin lay pinned on the floor. Mateo raised his silver-headed cane and tapped the side of Gavin’s face with the polished metal handle—hard enough to bruise, soft enough not to break the jaw.

Gavin winced, crying out in pain.

“You talk too much for a coward,” Mateo observed quietly.

Mateo turned back to Claire, who was leaning against the wall, shaking uncontrollably.

“Chiara,” Mateo said, his voice instantly softening as he addressed her. “Is this the man?”

Claire looked down at Gavin—the man who had controlled her life for four years, the man who had made her feel small, worthless, and utterly alone.

In the dim light of the messy apartment, surrounded by Mateo’s silent, lethal bodyguards, Gavin didn't look terrifying anymore. He looked pathetically small. He looked like a weak, cruel coward who only possessed power when his victim was trapped in a room with no doors.

“Yes,” Claire whispered.

Mateo pulled a fine leather glove from his coat pocket and began pulling it onto his right hand, adjusting the leather over his knuckles with precise care.

“Gavin Bennett,” Mateo spoke softly, reading from a mental file. “Senior loan processor at Fifth Third Bank. Three unpaid gambling debts with local bookmakers in South Chicago. One domestic violence warning filed three years ago by a former girlfriend, paid off with five thousand dollars from your mother’s pension.”

Gavin’s eyes widened in pure, unadulterated terror. “How... how do you know that?”

“Because I own the bank you work for,” Mateo revealed, stepping on Gavin’s left hand with the heel of his shoe.

Gavin shrieked in agony as the leather heel crushed his knuckles against the hardwood floor.

“Please!” Gavin wept, tears and sweat pouring down his face. “Please, mister! Take whatever you want! Take her! Just don't kill me!”

Claire gasped, the sheer, disgusting selfishness of his words striking her like a physical blow.

Take her.

After four years of claiming he loved her, after four years of saying he couldn't live without her, he offered her up like a piece of old furniture to save his own skin.

Mateo’s eyes turned into pools of absolute black.

He raised his cane, bringing the silver handle down with a sickening crack directly against Gavin’s right collarbone.

Gavin screamed, a high-pitched, wet sound that died instantly as Gianna pressed a knee into his chest, cutting off his air.

“You treat her like an object,” Mateo spat, his voice dropping into a register that made the floorboards vibrate. “You lay your dirty hands on a daughter of the Moretti bloodline.”

Mateo pulled a sleek black handgun from his inner holster, snapping the safety off with a dry, hollow click. He pressed the cold steel barrel directly against the bridge of Gavin’s nose.

Gavin wet his pants instantly, sobbing hysterically. “Don't! Please! God, don't!”

“Mateo!” Claire cried out, rushing forward and grabbing Mateo’s arm.

Mateo didn't move the gun. “He hurt you, Chiara. He broken your spirit.”

“If you kill him in this apartment,” Claire wept, pulling at his arm with all her strength, “you become the monster he tried to make me believe you were! Don't do this for revenge! Do it because I asked you to stop!”

Mateo stood frozen for three long seconds, the heavy gun pressed against the sweating skin of the man who had abused her.

Slowly, agonizingly, Mateo pulled the weapon back.

He engaged the safety and slid the handgun back into his holster.

He looked down at Gavin with absolute disgust.

“You live today because my wife has a gentle heart,” Mateo told him coldly. “Gianna.”

“Don Rossi?”

“Strip him,” Mateo commanded. “Take his phone, his wallet, his keys, and his shoes. Transfer his gambling debts to my main enforcement house. By midnight tonight, Gavin Bennett will owe three hundred thousand dollars to men who do not ask questions before using meat cleavers.”

Gavin let out a weak whimpering sound as Gianna yanked him up by his collar.