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At the birthday party for my Mafia husband, Galvan, I touched one of his blood-stained cufflinks and suddenly gained the ability to read minds. I read Galvan's thoughts. He was thinking, "Tracy's body is so tempting. Much better than my cold wife." Tracy, his employee, was with her broke boyfriend, Reuben. Her thoughts dripped with contempt, "Reuben is useless. His gifts were cheap. Once I dump him, I’ll be with Galvan." Interestingly, Reuben, the supposedly worthless boyfriend, was actually thinking, "My father's test is almost done. How do I tell Tracy I'm the heir to the largest Mafia family?" Fascinating. Galvan, the man I stood by, appeared wealthy on the outside, but the true heir was treated poorly. I lifted my wine glass and elegantly approached the penniless Reuben.

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To get a divorce from Dante Conti, I volunteered to walk away with nothing—even our three-year-old son. Seeing that I had deliberately changed back into the old clothes I wore before marriage, Dante froze for a moment, then sneered, "So? You don't even want Nico, the heir you fought so hard to give birth to?" "Careful. Play your part too long, and you won't be able to recover the scene," he warned. I pushed the signed agreement toward him. "Don't worry. This isn't acting." Dante shot me a puzzled look before signing his name. "So obedient? Fine. I'll be magnanimous and let you see Nico from time to time." He set down the pen, his gaze appraising me. "And if you regret it… come to me now, and maybe—just maybe—we could remarry—" I cut him off, standing and walking away without a word. He had thought I married him for the Mafia's power, that's why I had given him an heir to inherit his family. But once he knows I'm dead, there will be no more misunderstandings.