Moral At my birthday party, my husband publicly m0cked me over his mistress’s stained dress. I stayed silent, called my five brothers, and whispered, “I need you here.” Then black SUVs appeared and his smile vanished instantly.

For years, he had mistaken my silence for weakness.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

Vanessa smiled.

Then I finished.

“I’m sorry you think this ends here.”

The ballroom became completely silent.

Adrian stared at me.

“Still pretending you’re important?”

His mother, Margaret, laughed beside the champagne tower.

“She came from nothing,” she said. “She should be grateful this family ever accepted her.”

That was the version of me the Coles had always preferred.

Poor Elena Moretti.

Quiet Elena.

Lucky Elena.

The woman who had somehow married into the powerful Cole family and should therefore spend the rest of her life being grateful.

They knew I had five older brothers.

They knew almost nothing else.

Years earlier, the Moretti name had carried enough influence that people still lowered their voices when discussing my family.

But my brothers had built legitimate lives of their own.

Dominic ran an international security company.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *