Lila's Revenge

On the third anniversary of my marriage pact with the Don, Sofia Moretti — my husband’s childhood sweetheart — stood before a room full of people and recounted the night she had kissed the bullet wound on his lower back.

My husband, Luca Vitale, only smiled faintly.

That night, I discovered their secret group chat.

They called me a burden.

But the cruelest words came straight from Luca himself.

He admitted that for an entire year, he had been tampering with my food and drinks, ensuring I could never conceive. Meanwhile, he promised Sofia she would bear his heir.

Every tear I had shed over my infertility was a carefully crafted lie.

And he held me close all that time, whispering gentle comfort.

A perfect liar.

The next day, he planned to go out and celebrate Sofia’s birthday.

He had completely forgotten it was also mine, telling me to stay home and rest well.

But this time, I did not obey.

I got in my car and followed him.

I was tired of being mocked. Tired of being humiliated.

It was time to destroy everything he had.

……

Lila Vitale POV

The crisp clink of crystal glasses tangled with fake smiles, grating on my nerves like fine sand.

Our quiet penthouse apartment was swarming with Luca’s circle.

I privately called them parasites.

They clung to him, feasting on his power and status.

No one acknowledged that everything he owned came from my dowry, my family’s influence, and the debts I had taken on for him.

“Let’s make this interesting!” Marco raised his glass, grinning shamelessly. “Truth or dare!”

The room erupted in cheers.

The bottle spun, stopped, spun again — until its mouth pointed straight at Sofia.

She sat there, golden hair cascading down her shoulders, red lips curved in a smile, born to stand in the spotlight. The beloved daughter of the Moretti family, the one Luca insisted was just a childhood friend.

She tapped her chin lightly, her smile loaded with hidden meaning. “I choose truth.”

Marco narrowed his eyes. “Tell us a secret about Luca. One only the two of you share.”

The room went dead silent. Sofia’s gaze swept across everyone, deliberately skipping me, before landing on Luca.

It was the look a predator gives its prey.

“Alright.”

Her voice dropped, soft as a whisper against an ear. “Luca has a bullet wound on his lower back.”

My breath caught. I knew that scar well. I had touched it countless times. He told me he got it in a family turf war.

I never doubted him.

Sofia’s smile widened.

“He got it protecting me.” She spoke slowly. “We were still in Sicily.”

She paused, then added casually, “I stayed with him all night. Kissed that wound to keep it from getting infected.”

The room exploded.

Catcalls, laughter and whistles roared together.

“Damn, that’s intense!”

“Vitale, you’ve got quite the luck with women!”

“What a story!”

My world crumbled to dust in that instant.

That exact week, he had confessed his love to me.

He said I was his only one. Yet at the very same time, he lay in another woman’s arms, letting her kiss his body.

Every laugh in that room struck me like a slap.

They were not listening to a story. They were watching me, his wife, make a fool of myself.

I looked at Luca, begging him to deny it, to stop them, to say anything.

But he only smiled.

He even nudged her lightly with his shoulder.

“Sofia, that’s enough.” His tone was nothing but indulgence. “Don’t tell everyone my secrets.”

Light. Carefree.

As if what she had said was nothing more than a silly joke.

She laughed and patted his chest, leaning close enough to touch. “We’re family, aren’t we?”

Her hand rested directly on his chest.

I could not make out his words, but I heard his laugh — deep, genuine, unguarded.

A sound I had not heard directed at me in so long.

The air grew thin. I could barely stand.

“Lila, your turn.” The bottle landed on me. Sofia stared at me like someone who had already lost the game.

I stood slowly. “I choose truth.”

She opened her mouth to ask.

“But,” I cut her off, “I have a question first.”

I walked to the table, picked up the bottle of red wine I had prepared for our anniversary, and stepped straight toward her.

Luca frowned. “Lila, what are you doing?”

I did not answer.

As she stared in shock, I poured the entire bottle over her head.

Deep crimson wine soaked her white dress, looking just like blood.

The room went completely silent, then screamed.

“Are you insane?!” she shrieked.

“Lila!” Luca shoved me hard. “What is wrong with you?!”

I stumbled back, and laughed.

“Am I insane?” My voice was hoarse. “She just admitted she kissed your body all night. Tell me — who is the crazy one here?”

No one dared speak. Everyone looked away.

Luca’s face turned dark. He took off his coat and draped it over her, turning his back to me.

Once again, he chose her.

“It was all in the past…” Sofia sniffled. “We were just kids. Why does she have to make such a scene?”

“I know.” Luca soothed her gently. “She’s always been oversensitive like this.”

Then he turned to me. “Apologize.”

The last piece of my heart snapped.

“Happy anniversary, Luca.” My voice was terrifyingly calm.

I looked at him, and took every last bit of my love back.

Then I turned and walked away.

“Don’t you dare leave!” he roared. “This is our anniversary!”

How ironic.

I did not stop. I did not look back. Not until he caught me in the garage.

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Slap.

A clean, sharp sound.

He froze.

Sofia stood behind him, whispering softly. “We’re just friends. You’re overthinking everything.”

Luca sneered at me. “You’re always like this. You exhaust me.”

He leaned close, his voice low. “Say you’re sorry, and we go back inside.”

Go back to playing their little game.

I stared at the man I had once given everything for. He felt nothing but foreign to me now.

I got in the car, slammed the door, and turned the engine on.

He banged on the window outside. “Lila! Get out!”

I pressed the gas and drove away. No looking back. No second chances.

I would not accept his pity.

I was going to fight.