Chapter 1

"Come see our wedding invitations!"

I exclaimed excitedly, holding up the envelope I'd grabbed from Lorenzo's study at his Upper East Side safe house, showing it to his men gathered around.

We'd been swamped with wedding preparations this entire month, Lorenzo and I barely catching our breath.

Lorenzo's guys held their drinks, waiting to see the elegant invitations we'd carefully commissioned. I eagerly turned the envelope upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document scattered across the floor.

Dead silence.

"Huh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still smiling stupidly. "Must be someone else's."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I bent down to look at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette in an elaborate white gown smiled radiantly from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. My fiancé. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

The smile froze on my face. What the hell was going on?

Marco immediately tried to step on the wedding photo.

"Shit, how did Elena's picture end up here?" Tony blurted out.

Elena? So that woman had a name.

"Tony, shut up!" another guy quickly intervened.

But it was too late. I crouched down, trembling as I picked up the marriage certificate. New York State, Lorenzo Moretti and Elena Rossi.

It was dated six years ago. But Lorenzo and I had only been together for five years.

I stood up slowly, holding the certificate, staring blankly at Lorenzo. He just stood there calmly, no panic or guilt whatsoever on his face.

Marco nervously glanced at Lorenzo, saying quietly, "Don, we thought... you'd already handled this situation."

What else was he hiding from me?

"Should we step out?" someone said respectfully.

"You all knew she existed, didn't you?" My voice was shaking.

No one answered.

"Everyone out." Lorenzo spoke flatly, with a hint of irritation in his tone.

His men silently filed out of the room, leaving Lorenzo and me facing each other, the evidence of his real marriage scattered on the floor.

"Shouldn't you explain what the hell is going on?" I waved the marriage certificate, feeling my voice tremble. "Explain that you have a legal wife? Explain what I am to you?"

Five years. I thought we'd been in love for five whole years, but I was just an intruder.

Lorenzo dismissed it with a casual wave of his hand. "Ava, you're making this way too serious. It's just a piece of paper."

He approached me with complete composure, as if we were discussing what to have for dinner.

"Elena is only my wife on paper. You're the woman I truly love." He stepped closer to me. "It's an alliance between two families, about territory and business. I have no feelings for her whatsoever."

"Family alliance?" I stepped back, feeling something breaking in my chest. "Then why didn't you tell me? Five years, Lorenzo!"

"Betraying the famiglia means betrayal. You should understand the consequences of betrayal." His tone became righteous, as if I were the unreasonable one. "I thought a smart woman would understand—"

"Understand what?" My voice rose. "Understand how to be a competent mistress?"

"Don't say that," he frowned, his tone reproachful. "Do you know how many women would be willing to accept this arrangement?"

"Lorenzo," my voice began to shake, "what do you mean by that? Are you saying... there are other women?"

"I only love you." He took my hand, pretending to be affectionate.

"That's bullshit!" I angrily pulled my hand away.

"Then what do you want?" he asked coldly. "You want me to go back to Elena right now and ask for a divorce? Destroy the alliance between two families?"

I opened my mouth but couldn't make a sound.

"You're being too extreme. After the wedding, you'll be my woman. My children will only come from you."

His tone sounded like he was making some kind of concession, some kind of charity.

"I've given you more than any woman. Don't be greedy, Ava."

"Get out."

Lorenzo paused. "Ava..."

"I said get out!"

Rage erupted like a volcano. I grabbed the crystal glass from the coffee table and hurled it at the wall with all my strength.

Glass exploded behind him, shards flying everywhere, one piece cutting across my palm. Blood dripped onto their wedding photo.

"You're crazy!" Lorenzo rushed over to check my wound.

"Don't touch me!" I pushed him away. "Five years, Lorenzo! I was unknowingly your mistress for five years!"

My voice grew louder and louder, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Just then, Lorenzo's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and declined it.

It rang again. Declined again.

When it rang a third time, he finally answered.

Soft, broken crying came through the phone.

"Lorenzo... my head hurts so bad... can you come see me..."

Lorenzo rubbed his temples. "Alright, I'll be right there."

He hung up and turned to me, trying to explain: "Ava, she's not well—"

I said nothing, just looked at him.

This scene had played out countless times over the past five years.

His phone always rang at the most critical moments.

And I was always the understanding one, saying, "Go handle it first."

Now I realized that those nights when he hurriedly got dressed and left, those weekends when he canceled our plans for "urgent business"—some of those times were spent with his real wife.

"Lorenzo," I called out to him.

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"If you dare to leave, we're completely done!"

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

"I'll be back soon."

Then I heard the door close.

My hand resting on my lower abdomen trembled slightly.

Inside, there was the surprise I'd planned to tell him about today...