My Ex Played Games, Not Knowing I Was the Don’s Wife

On the feast of San Valentino, when the man who had sworn himself to me finally flew back onto Valente soil, the woman I trusted most steered the three of us into a hotel suite on neutral ground to play what she called a little game. "Who cracks first."

The man I called mine lifted his glass and laid out his plans, easy as breathing. "The room's already booked. Your closest friend and I are rolling around in that bed until midnight."

He curled an arm around her shoulder and kissed the corner of her mouth. "And this isn't part of the game.