My Mafia Husband Saved His Mistress While I Bled Pregnant Upstairs—Three Years Later, One Nursery Recording Exposed Why He Chose the Wrong Woman My husband heard gunfire inside our mansion, saw two paths in front of him—and chose to save his mistress while I was bleeding upstairs with his unborn son.

Adrien’s Perspective.

Victor sobbed on the floor, the bravado entirely stripped away.

"Simone!" he choked out, blood spilling from his lips. "It was Simone's idea! She said Mara was too soft, that she'd ruin the syndicate! She wanted to be the one beside you when you took full control!"

I closed my eyes. The sickness in my stomach twisted violently.

"And the bank transfer? The planted evidence?"

"We paid a hacker to fabricate it. We needed you to hate her so you wouldn't look too closely at the ashes we found."

They hadn't just tried to murder my family; they had successfully manipulated my grief into a weapon against my own sanity.

"Where did the email come from?" I demanded.

"I don't know! I swear!"

I holstered my weapon and walked out of the bunker, locking the heavy steel door behind me. Victor’s screams echoed in the concrete hallway, but I felt absolutely nothing. He would stay in that room until I was done with him.

I marched into my private server room, grabbing my lead tech by the collar of his shirt.

"The email I just forwarded you," I barked. "Trace the IP."

"Boss, it's routed through a dozen ghost servers," the tech stammered, furiously typing at his keyboard. "It's going to take time."

"You have one hour," I said coldly. "Break the encryption. Follow the digital footprint. I don't care what you have to burn down to do it. Find the location."