He Chose His Mistress. So Did My Son

Eight years I hid who I was for love. On my son's birthday I caught him with his assistant—then he hung our boy over the water till I signed away 25%. His mother cracked my head open. The other woman fed me soup made from my own baby. My son shoved me down the stairs. Then Dad's men came. I'm a Moretti. Fix the ring. Can you bring my baby back