Catalina's POV
I had publicly apologized to Sophia with the media, and it was all over the news. Javier probably seen it.
The car pulled up in front of the ten-story J&C Incorporation building in the heart of the city. Javier and I built this company together, and the two imposing foot soldiers guarding the entrance, with their signature black suits and the Alarcon crest—a lion and raven facing each other—stood as a testament to our power.
The driver opened the door for me, and I stepped out, heading straight to the entrance. One of the men bowed and opened the door for me. The Queen was here. As I entered the lobby, eyes turned to me. I rarely visited since I worked behind the scenes.
They'd bowed at me, and I headed to the elevator. They had surely warned Javier that I was coming, always keeping me in the dark about what my cheating husband was up to.
When I reached his office floor, three men were stationed outside his door.
“Donna, the Don is busy right now,” said Leonardo Vacinci, the second in command.
“Open the door,” I demanded with authority.
“We can't,” Leonardo said firmly.
“As the Don's wife, I order you to open the door,” I said calmly but with a warning in my tone. “Don't make me do something you'll regret.”
“It’s the Don’s order,” Leonardo explained, fear creeping into his eyes as he saw my maniacal smile.
He knew how crazy I could be. I might look like a lamb to Javier, but his men had seen my other side.
“Leo, you’ll do what I say, or do you want me to do something sickening to your precious Ella?” I snickered, and his fist clenched. He wouldn’t let his three-year-old girl be harmed.
He closed his eyes for a second and ordered the men to open the door. Despite their protests, they complied.
I entered, my seven-inch heels clicking on the floor, and saw Javier in the most compromising position with Sophia. She was on top of him, kissing him, almost naked.
A scream escaped Sophia mouth when I pulled her hair hard, and Javier’s eyes widened.
“What the hell, Amore Mio,” guilt and panic evident in his amber eyes.
“Oops, my hand slipped,” I smiled mockingly. You never knew me, Javier. I’ll show you how the Queen crushes the king. I yanked Sophia’s hair harder, tears of pain filling her eyes as she tried to pry my hand off her hair.
"Stop it, you bitch!” Sophia shouted, while Javier hurried to button his shirt.
I laughed manically. “Oh, a bitch! Who's the bitch between us?" I yanked her hair, watching the pain flicker across her beautiful face. "You dare call me that? You’re the bitch here!"
“Let her go, Amore Mio. Let's talk and leave Sophia out of this,” he said, ordering his men to grab me.
But they didn’t move, and Javier’s face flushed. "I order you!”
Leonardo might have warned them not to follow Javier's orders, but if they did, they'd face the worst from me—something even the Don wouldn't do.
I released Sophia’s hair and wiped my hand with a handkerchief as though it was dirty. She rushed to Javier, but he was furious, pushing her away and towards me.
“Amore Mio, what you saw is for the cartel’s sake,” he said softly, making sure Sophia couldn’t hear.
"Sophia, leave,” he said coldly dismissng her as she adjusted her burgundy dress—the same design Javier had given to me two months ago.
Anger and pain rose inside me. "You better leave, because if you don’t, I’ll do something worse,” I warned lazily, and Sophia, her blue eyes full of fear, rushed out.
See who’s the lioness here. You better be afraid of me.
Once the door closed, Javier tried to touch me, but the thought of him touching another woman sickened me. I moved away as if he had a contagious disease. I saw the shock, hurt, and anger in his eyes.
“Do you understand why I’m doing this? I never explained to you, but I should have. Seducing Sophia will help us easily import and export shipments without the government meddling all the time,” he explained, trying hard.
I pulled a piece of paper from my shoulder bag and handed it to him. "Do what you promised. I've already done my part—apologizing publicly at your Mistress. It's all over the news. Now sign it." I made sure to emphasize the word 'Mistress.'
"Sophia is not my mistress. I’m using her, Amore Mio,” he insisted, as if I was mistaken.
He took the paper, and his eyes widened when he saw it was a divorce agreement.
“What’s this?“ he asked. "No, I am not agreeing to this!”
