Chapter 1
Sloane's POV
I used to think I was the happiest woman in the world, until I clicked play on that video.
After watching footage of my husband Matteo Santangelo sex with another woman, I canceled our first wedding anniversary and left him forever.
I wrapped myself in that soft cashmere throw, curled up on the sofa in the Santangelo family villa's living room, holding a warm latte. This is the life I want. I thought to myself, unable to suppress a smile.
Our first wedding anniversary was just a week away. God, has it really been a year already? Time had flown by so fast that sometimes I still felt like I was dreaming. The Rossini princess married to the Santangelo heir, everyone called it the perfect example of a business marriage, but only we knew how real this love was.
I wanted to prepare something special for our anniversary. Maybe I could make a video montage? With that thought, I set down my coffee and walked to the equipment cabinet in the corner. Matteo always loved using that camera to record our life together, saying he wanted to preserve every beautiful moment.
"Let me see what we've captured," I murmured to myself, opening the camera's LCD screen and browsing through the stored video files.
Wedding day clips, honeymoon memories, cozy scenes of us cooking Italian pasta together in the kitchen... We really are happy. Every frame reminded me of those sweet times and made me even more excited about our upcoming anniversary.
Maybe I could edit these clips into a little movie with our favorite song. I thought excitedly, my finger sliding across the touchscreen, searching for more material.
That's when I saw an unfamiliar filename.
"Private_C_05.mp4"
C? I frowned. Our video files were usually named by date, this filename was strange. And the timestamp showed it was recorded last week, but I remembered going to the lab that day while Matteo said he was handling some family business at home.
Maybe it's something work-related he recorded? Though puzzled, curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked play.
The image gradually came into focus, showing our bedroom. Why would Matteo record work stuff in the bedroom? My confusion lasted only seconds, because what happened next shattered my world completely.
I saw Calista. My husband's adopted sister. She was lying on our bed, in lingerie I'd never seen before.
But what truly made my blood run cold was the hand caressing her skin. The hand wearing the same wedding ring I had placed on Matteo's finger. Matteo's hand.
"No..." I heard my own weak voice, but my body felt paralyzed.
The video continued playing. I heard Calista's breathless voice: "Matteo... God, yes... I've missed this so much..."
Then came Matteo's voice, that voice I knew better than my own heartbeat, but speaking words I'd never heard before: "You drive me crazy, baby. I can't get enough of you."
The camera clattered to the floor with a dull thud. I felt ice spreading from the top of my head through my entire body. Even wrapped in the thick blanket, I felt like I was sitting on a glacier.
This can't be happening. This absolutely cannot be happening.
My mind began frantically replaying our past. Our childhood together, his care and devotion to me, the perfect couple image we projected to everyone. Everyone believed Matteo loved me deeply.
And I believed it too.
I remembered how just last month I was considering taking a break from the physics lab to focus on our family planning. I imagined how happy Matteo would be when he found out I was pregnant, pictured our children with us.
I even started taking folic acid. The thought made me feel like a complete fool.
Calista wasn't just any woman, the girl we'd grown up with, who'd called Matteo "brother" and me "sister." The orphaned daughter of their driver who died protecting Matteo's father. The girl the Santangelo family had taken in and raised as their own.
His adopted sister. The words echoed in my mind like a death knell.
I watched in horror as the scene continued, seeing a side of Matteo I'd never witnessed. The gentle, respectful man who'd waited until our wedding night to be intimate with me, claiming he wanted our first time to be perfect, was now passionate and wild with another woman. With his sister.
It was like watching a stranger wearing my husband's face.
"Everyone thinks we're made for each other," I thought bitterly. The Rossini and Santangelo union, the perfect business alliance combined with childhood sweethearts, even our appearances complemented each other perfectly.
But now, this video had shattered my world into a million pieces.
I don't know how long I sat on that carpet, staring at the camera as if it might suddenly tell me everything I'd just seen was a hallucination. This has to be a mistake. It has to be.
But that ring, the ring I'd placed on Matteo's finger myself, gleamed mockingly clear in the video.
Just as I was drowning in this devastating pain, I heard familiar footsteps. The villa's front door opened, Matteo was home.
"Sloane, I'm back!" His voice carried from the foyer, warm and magnetic as always. "Are you in the living room?"
I heard his footsteps getting closer, my heart pounding wildly. What should I do? Pretend nothing happened? Confront him directly?
But before I could decide, he was there.
"Baby, what are you watching?" Matteo's voice came from right behind me.
I mechanically turned around to see the face I'd once loved so deeply. Those deep brown eyes still held their familiar warmth, his signature smile playing at the corners of his mouth. This is the same face that was just... I couldn't finish the thought.
"I..." I opened my mouth but found I couldn't speak. My voice was trapped in my throat as if something was blocking my airway.
Matteo approached and gently caressed my cheek. "You look pale. Are you feeling sick?"
His hand was warm, but all I could think about was how this same hand had been touching another woman. This hand was caressing Calista.
"I'm fine," I forced a smile, "just a little tired."
Matteo frowned, his gaze falling on the camera on the floor. "What happened here?"
My heart raced as if it might burst from my chest any second.
"I was looking for our wedding videos to prepare something for our anniversary," I tried to keep my voice normal, "and accidentally dropped it."
Matteo's expression relaxed. He bent down to pick up the camera, casually switching it off. "You're always so thoughtful. That's why I love you."
Love me? Those words sounded so ironic now.
He sat beside me and pulled me into his arms. I caught his familiar cologne, but now the scent made me nauseous.
"Our anniversary is going to be special," he whispered in my ear.
In his embrace, I felt like I was suffocating. The man I'd trusted with my heart, my body, my future, had been living a lie.
I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. Yes, it will be special. Because it will be our last anniversary.
