The Mafia King My Sister Threw Away

The office was almost empty when Alexander Westwood finally closed the financial report on his screen.

He glanced at the time.

7:18 p.m. “Damn.”

He had promised to submit the completed financial report to Vincent Prescott, his boss, before leaving.

He picked up the folder from his desk and headed for the elevator.

At that time, most employees of Prescott Hospitality Group had already gone home. Even the executive floor was unusually quiet when the elevator opened.

Alexander walked toward Vincent’s office, but stopped immediately. A woman stood farther down the hallway.

She has long brown hair, wore black dress. A handbag Alexander remembered he bought by himself was hanging around her shoulder.

His brows pulled together.

Rosalie?

For a moment, he thought he must have made a mistake because his wife wasn’t supposed to be in Sky-City.

That morning, Rosalie had packed a small suitcase and told him she was traveling for a friend’s wedding. Alexander personally drove her to the train station before coming to work.

She wasn’t supposed to return until two days later. Yet there she was, standing outside her younger sister’s husband’s office.

Alexander almost called her name because he thought that maybe something had changed.

Maybe the wedding had been canceled.

Perhaps she had returned early and decided to surprise him.

A small smile almost appeared on his face.

Then Rosalie pulled out her phone and spoke. “Are you sure Alexander has left?”

He froze immediately, and his hand tightened around the folder.

Rosalie listened to whoever was on the other end.

Then she laughed softly. “Good.”

Alexander moved behind the wall beside a conference room before she could turn around.

His heartbeat changed. Something wasn’t right. He knew it before Rosalie spoke again. “Then I’m all yours tonight.”

Everything inside him went still. Alexander stared at the wall in front of him.

For several seconds, his mind refused to understand what he had heard.

All yours tonight.

She wasn’t talking to him because she had just asked whether he had left. So who was she talking to?

Alexander slowly looked around the corner.

Rosalie finally ended the call.

She fixed her brown hair and walked toward the last office in the hallway. She walked to Vincent Prescott’s office.

Alexander’s jaw tightened.

No.

There had to be another explanation for this. Vincent was her brother-in-law.

Maybe she needed to discuss something with him. That must be it. The call had nothing to do with Vincent.

But before he could think of another possibility. The office door opened.

Alexander stopped breathing as Vincent stepped out of his office and Rosalie smiled. Not the polite smile a woman gave her brother-in-law.

Not even the smile of two people happy to see each other. Her entire face lit up. Then she rushed toward him.

Vincent caught her around the waist.

Alexander’s fingers slowly curled into a fist.

Rosalie wrapped her arms around Vincent’s neck as she kissed him.

Alexander felt as if something had struck him directly in the chest.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe properly. This is his wife in the hands of another man. She was kissing another man.

And that man was married to her own younger sister, Natalie.

Alexander watched as Vincent pulled Rosalie closer. There was no hesitation between them.

No nervousness. No awkwardness.

Nothing about the kiss looked new. And that realization hurt worse than the kiss itself.

This wasn’t their first time. He knew it immediately.

Rosalie pulled away, laughing. “I thought you said everyone was gone.”

“They are.”

“What about Alexander?”

“He left his department a while ago. His desk was empty.”

Alexander’s expression changed.

So Vincent already checked his office to confirm. He had actually made sure Alexander was gone before Rosalie came upstairs.

“How long do we have?” Rosalie asked.

Vincent smiled. “As long as you want.”

“Good.” She said, and he kissed her again.

Then he opened his office door and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.

Alexander remained where he was. He stared at that door for several seconds. His first instinct was to walk over there and drag it open.

He wanted to see their faces when they realized he had caught them.

He wanted answers.

How long?

Why?

How many times had Rosalie lied to him?

How many times had Vincent gone home to Natalie after being with her sister?

Alexander took one step forward, but stopped.

No.

Anger has never controlled him. And it wouldn’t start tonight.

If this had been happening for weeks, months, or even years, shouting inside Vincent’s office wouldn’t give him what he needed.

They would probably lie, or delete messages.

Alexander wanted everything. Evidence. And Natalie deserved the truth too.

His expression hardened.

Poor Natalie.

He knew how much she loved Vincent.

Alexander once watched her defend that man countless times.

She ran her own little restaurant even though her husband was a millionaire. She worked long hours because she wanted something that belonged to her.

At family gatherings, she never treated Alexander as though he was beneath Vincent.

As far as Natalie knew, Alexander was simply one of her husband’s financial analysts.

A salary earner.

An ordinary man.

Yet she had always treated him with respect. Rosalie, on the other hand...

Alexander looked at Vincent’s closed door one last time.

Then he turned around. He didn’t bother submitting the report anymore. Vincent could wait for it.

Alexander took the elevator downstairs and walked into the parking lot.

His modest black sedan was parked where it always was.

He got inside and drove away. Then his phone rang before he reached the main road.

Rosalie.

Alexander stared at her name on the screen.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he answered. “Hello.”

“Baby.” Her voice was sweet. So normal that it almost made him laugh.

“I just got to the hotel,” she said. “The journey was exhausting.”

Alexander’s hand tightened around the steering wheel.

Hotel? The nerve of this woman. She was currently inside Vincent’s office, and now she lied so smoothly?

“I told you to fly instead,” he replied calmly.

“You know I don’t like flying unless I have to.”

Alexander stared ahead. Even now, she could still lie.

“Anyway, I’ll call you tomorrow. The girls are waiting for me downstairs.”

“Of course.”

“I love you.”

Something cold settled inside his chest.

He remained silent for half a second. Then he answered. “Enjoy the wedding.”

Rosalie laughed. “I will.”

Then the call ended.

Alexander drove another ten minutes, then he turned onto a quiet road.

Several black vehicles waited near the junction. In the middle of them sat a black Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Alexander parked. And before he even opened his door, two men stepped out.

One approached his sedan. Another opened the rear door of the Rolls-Royce.

Alexander handed over his keys. “Take it back.”

“Yes, sir.”

He entered the Rolls-Royce. And the atmosphere changed immediately.

A woman sat inside waiting for him. She wore a fitted black suit, her dark hair pinned neatly behind her head, and a tablet rested on her lap.

Most powerful men in Sky-City knew her.

Some feared her. Others desperately wanted a meeting with her.

She is known as Miss Gladys.

To the business world, Gladys was the woman controlling one of the largest investment empires in the country.

To the underworld, she was the woman who spoke for a King almost nobody had seen.

She looked at Alexander. The calm expression on her face changed immediately.

“What happened?”

Alexander leaned back. “My wife is sleeping with Vincent Prescott.”

Gladys went silent. Then her eyes hardened. “Are you certain?”

“I watched him kiss her.”

That was enough. Gladys picked up her tablet. “How long do you think it has been happening?”

“I don’t know.” Alexander looked through the tinted window. “But I intend to find out.”

Gladys waited for more instructions.

“I want everything,” he continued. “Hotel bookings. Trips. Company expenses. Calls. Messages we can obtain legally. Places they’ve visited together. Anything connecting Rosalie to Vincent.”

“How far back?”

Alexander remembered the ease with which his wife had run into Vincent’s arms.

“You can start three years ago.”

Gladys nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

“And Gladys?”

“Yes?”

“Vincent cannot know.”

A faint, cold smile touched her lips. “He won’t.”

Alexander looked away.

Almost everyone believed Gladys was the true power behind Vanguard Crest Capital. Because she attended the meetings, and negotiated the deals.

She appeared beside presidents, billionaires, CEOs, and men whose names made people uncomfortable.

Alexander preferred it that way.

Even many powerful men in the underworld had never seen the face of the person they called the Mafia King.

They knew his orders.

They knew his influence.

They knew what happened when someone crossed him. But they didn’t know Alexander Westwood.

Rosalie certainly didn’t.

She believed she had married an ordinary financial analyst who worked under Vincent Prescott. And Vincent believed the same thing.

Neither of them knew Alexander had never needed a salary to start with.

He worked inside Vincent’s company because Vanguard Crest Capital owned fifty-one percent of it.

He wanted to personally see how one of his investments was being managed.

And Vanguard Crest was only the respectable face of an empire far larger than anyone around Vincent could imagine.

Gladys studied him. “What do you want me to do once I have the evidence?”

Alexander’s eyes became cold. “Nothing.”

She raised one brow. “Nothing?”

“Not yet.”

He thought about Natalie. She needed to know first. After that...

Alexander looked out at the city lights.

Rosalie and Vincent believed they had betrayed an ordinary employee.

They had no idea that the man they had just made a fool of was a billionaire. And worse...

The hidden Mafia King himself.