Chapter 1

For seven years, everyone believed I was nothing more than the mistress of Raffaele Moretti, the Mafia Don.

Domenica, on the other hand, was known as the woman he truly loved.

Years ago, Raffaele’s older brother took a bullet for him. Before he died, he asked Raffaele to take care of Domenica.

To help Domenica secure her place within the Family, Raffaele protected her at every turn, even publicly claiming that she was the woman he loved.

Raffaele once promised me that after seven years, once he had repaid the debt he owed his brother, he would marry me as promised.

But today, I overheard a conversation between him and his underboss.

“Are you really going to make Domenica your Donna and ask Livia to remain your mistress for another two years?”

Raffaele was silent for a moment.

“It’s only a marriage on paper. Nothing will happen between Domenica and me.”

“Livia loves me. Even if she finds out, she’ll keep waiting for me.”

I had waited all these years because I believed he loved me just as much.

But now, clutching the pregnancy report in my hand, I finally gave up on him.

If I kept waiting, all I would be giving my child was a father who would always choose someone else first.

I accepted an offer from a historic-preservation firm in Paris.

In a few days, I would leave with my baby.

Chapter 1

Outside my fitting room, Domenica had chosen the exact same wedding dress I was wearing.

She stood in front of the mirror and smiled at Raffaele.

“What do you think?”

Raffaele nodded, appreciation in his eyes.

“You look beautiful.”

The bridal consultant glanced through the crack in my door.

“Miss, would you like to come out and take a look? I’m sure it’ll look just as stunning on you.”

I closed the door.

“No, thank you.”

There was no need for both of us to wear the same wedding dress.

As I changed out of mine, Raffaele called.

“Livia, about our anniversary tonight… I know I promised you dinner on the yacht.”

In the background, I could hear the bridal consultant complimenting someone, followed by a woman’s soft laughter.

Before I could say anything, he continued.

“I’m sorry I can’t make it. Something urgent came up with Domenica, and I couldn’t get away.”

“Don’t be mad.”

I stood in the cramped fitting room, staring at the glaring white dress in front of me.

“The urgent thing you couldn’t get away from—is helping Domenica choose the dress she’ll wear when she marries you?”

“What?”

For a moment, he clearly couldn’t understand how I knew.

My voice remained calm.

“Raffaele, what exactly do I owe you that gives you the right to treat me like this?”

Silence.

A long while later, I heard footsteps, then Raffaele’s lowered voice.

“You found out?”

He drew a breath, and when he spoke again, his tone softened.

“Livia, it’s only for appearances.”

“You know what happened better than anyone. My brother died taking a bullet meant for me. Before he died, he entrusted Domenica to me. All my parents have asked of me since then is that I make sure she’s taken care of.”

His voice dropped.

“Just give me a little more time. Once things settle down with the family, I’ll divorce her quietly. Then I’ll marry you.”

He made it sound perfectly reasonable.

“And what am I supposed to do until then?”

Raffaele paused for two seconds.

“This doesn’t change anything between us. Once it’s over, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

I repeated his words softly.

“Once it’s over?”

My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

There were a hundred ways Raffaele could have repaid his debt to his dead brother. He had chosen the one that humiliated me.

It was his debt, yet somehow I was the one expected to pay for it.

I hung up.

When I left the bridal shop, Raffaele was still beside Domenica.

He was obviously distracted, his brow drawn tight, the catalog in his hands sitting open to the same page.

Domenica called his name twice before he finally snapped out of it.

He didn’t even notice me walking past behind him.

Outside the shop, I pulled up the email I had received two months earlier from a prestigious historic-preservation firm in Paris.

This time, I didn’t hesitate.

I typed two words and replied.

“I accept.”

Then I booked a flight to Paris for three days later.

Chapter 2

On my way home that night, I saw a new post on Domenica’s Instagram.

It was a photograph.

She stood in a warm, beautifully furnished living room holding a cake. Raffaele was looking at her, an easy smile on his lips.

The caption read:

[Moved into our new home today. Here’s to waking up next to Raffaele every day for years to come.]

Several members of the family had already left their congratulations beneath it.

Raffaele had replied with one word.

[Always.]

I stared at the words “our new home” until bitterness filled my mouth.

As expected, Raffaele wasn’t home when I arrived.

I lay in bed, my thoughts drifting in circles until sometime after midnight.

At three in the morning, a nightmare jolted me awake. Out of habit, I reached for the warmth beside me, only to find cold sheets.

I sat there blankly for a moment before calling Raffaele.

“Where are you?”

His voice was thick and unfocused, as though I had woken him.

“What? I’m home.”

Barefoot on the cold floor, I slowly curled my fingers around the phone.

“Which home, Raffaele?”

Ten minutes later, he came through the door carrying the chill of the night with him.

He found me standing in the dark, guilt flickering in his eyes.

“You know the Valenti Family has been watching Domenica lately. I’ve been busy getting her moved somewhere safe, and I was so exhausted I fell asleep in the study.”

“Were you waiting long?”

“Where did she move?”

I asked casually, though I already knew.

Raffaele hesitated.

“The estate is the safest place for her right now. I gave her the east wing so she’d have her own space.”

A laugh slipped out of me.

Of all the places Raffaele could have put her, he had chosen to bring his new wife under the same roof as me.

Raffaele had ground what little dignity I had left into dust.

It had never occurred to him how much this might hurt me, or what people would think when they saw what he was doing.

I looked away, my chest so tight it hurt.

Raffaele seemed to notice. He stepped closer, his voice turning coaxing.

“Don’t be angry. Give me a little more time. Once I divorce her, I’ll straighten everything out.”

I lowered my eyes. All I felt was exhaustion.

The next morning, Raffaele had just finished breakfast with me when the doorbell rang.

I got up and opened the door.

The moment I saw who was standing outside, my body went rigid.

The elder Don and Donna Moretti stood on the other side.

The smile vanished from Mrs. Moretti’s face the instant she saw me. Her gaze swept over me with open displeasure.

“A mistress has the nerve to live in a Moretti property?”

My nails dug into my palm.

I wanted to tell her this was my home. That Raffaele and I had been together for seven years. That I had never been the one clinging to him.

But her palm struck my face before I could answer.

My head snapped sideways, my ears ringing.

Mrs. Moretti held her hand raised.

“I’ve put up with you long enough.”

“If no one ever taught you how a mistress is expected to behave, then I will teach you the rules of the Moretti Family.”

Raffaele heard the commotion and came out of the dining room.

The instant Raffaele saw the mark on my face, his pupils tightened. His gaze lingered on my swollen cheek before snapping to his mother.

“Mother, how could you hit her? Don’t you know she’s my—”

The words died on his lips. As if suddenly realizing what he had almost admitted, Raffaele fell silent.

Mrs. Moretti gave a cold laugh. “What is she? Nothing but a mistress trying to ruin someone else’s marriage.”

My hands clenched at my sides. Once again, Raffaele had chosen not to stand by me. This time, I would speak for myself.

“I have never lowered myself to destroy another woman’s marriage. The person who really—”

“Enough.”

Mr. Moretti rested both hands over the silver head of his cane, his expression unreadable.

“The Moretti Family has never opened its doors to a mistress, Raffaele.”

“Domenica is your brother’s widow. I will not allow her to be treated with anything less than respect.”

Raffaele looked at me, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. But in the end, he still said, “I understand, Father. I’ll handle it.”

He had chosen to sacrifice me again.

“You’d better.” Mr. Moretti’s gaze shifted to my hand, then stopped.

Mrs. Moretti followed his gaze and immediately seized my wrist.

“Why are you wearing the Moretti Donna’s wedding ring?”

She looked sharply at Raffaele. “Did you give it to her?”

Chapter 3

Pain shot through the bones of my wrist, and I instinctively tried to pull away.

Hearing the commotion, Domenica came over. The moment she saw the ring on my finger, her eyes widened and she pointed at me in shock.

“First you refuse to leave him alone, and now you steal my ring? Do you have any self-respect left, Livia?”

She held out her hand.

“Give it back.”

I turned to Raffaele, still holding on to one last foolish hope.

Raffaele’s lips parted, the words already on the tip of his tongue. Then he caught Domenica’s helpless, pleading gaze.

Raffaele held my gaze for several seconds, then finally looked away, unable to face me.

“Livia, do you really need to take things that don’t belong to you?”

I pressed a hand against my cramping stomach and forced myself upright.

I no longer had the strength to explain, and I had no desire to fight for a love that had already been tainted beyond recognition.

I pulled the ring from my finger and handed it to her.

The ring sat loose on Domenica’s finger. She looked at me coldly.

“If something was never yours, taking it won’t make it belong to you.”

For one instant, it felt as though someone had poured scalding oil over my heart.

I turned and walked away.

Footsteps rushed after me.

“Livia.”

I lowered my eyes, struggling to keep my composure.

Raffaele stopped in front of me. His eyes were red as he looked at the mark on my face.?

He lifted a hand toward my cheek.

“Does it hurt?”

I turned my face away from his touch.

His fingertips stopped inches from my skin, then slowly dropped.

After a few seconds, he spoke quietly.

“I can’t abandon Domenica now. Just give me a little more time, all right?”

“And the ring…” His throat worked. “It’s yours. Once this is over, I’ll get it back.”

I studied him for a moment, then nodded.

“All right.”

None of it mattered anymore. I was leaving anyway.

Surprise crossed his face. He was about to say something when his phone rang. Domenica’s name flashed across the screen.

“I’ll come find you later, and we’ll talk this through.”

I had nothing more to say, so I turned and left.

The next day morning, before leaving the city tomorrow, I decided to drive to the hospital for one last prenatal checkup.

I was halfway to the clinic when a black car slammed into mine from behind.

The impact threw my stomach hard against the steering wheel. Blood ran down my legs.

I clutched my abdomen, my face drained white from the pain.

The driver’s door of the black car behind me flew open.

Domenica ran toward me, pale with panic.

“Livia, I’m sorry. I came out to apologize for what happened yesterday.”

She grabbed my hand, tears spilling down her face.

“I was scared you wouldn’t forgive me. I wasn’t paying attention and I hit you. I’m so sorry…”

My vision blurred. With the last of my strength, I tore my hand from hers.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the hospital.

The doctor stood beside my bed and was quiet for a long time before speaking.

“Miss Bellandi, I’m very sorry. We couldn’t save the baby.”

I stared at the ceiling for a long time. Then, without warning, the tears came.

I pressed both hands over my abdomen. It was empty now.

Only hours earlier, my baby had still been safe inside me.

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to meet my child before losing them forever.

Nearly two hours later, Raffaele finally walked in with Domenica behind him.

Chapter 4

The moment Raffaele saw me lying pale in the hospital bed, his expression changed.

“Livia, what happened?”

Losing my baby had left me hollow. I stared blankly at the man in front of me, unable to tell whether I hated him or regretted ever loving him.

Domenica stepped forward before I could answer.

“It was my fault. I followed Livia because I wanted to apologize for yesterday, and I rear-ended her car.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Raffaele looked from her to me, his face hardening with concern.

“Since it was an accident, there’s no reason to take this any further. Livia, whatever compensation you want, I’ll give it to you.”

I let out a bitter, broken laugh.

“Compensate me?”

“Livia, it was an accident.” His voice lowered. “My brother is dead. I promised him I would protect her. I can’t let one mistake destroy her standing in the Family.”

“So what do you want?”

Raffaele drew a document from the inside pocket of his coat and placed it on the bedside table.

“This keeps the accident private. No police report, no formal complaint, no Family involvement. Sign it, and this ends here.”

I was so furious that I laughed. Even after Domenica had put me in a hospital bed, Raffaele was still taking her side.

“I WILL NOT SIGN IT!”

Raffaele’s expression tightened. For a long moment, he said nothing. His jaw flexed, and something conflicted passed through his eyes.

Then he reached for his phone.

“I didn’t want to do this, Livia.”

He turned the screen toward me. On it was a photo of the box containing everything my father had left behind.

My breath stopped.

“Raffaele, those are my father’s things! What are you doing?”

A flicker of pain and guilt crossed his eyes before he looked away.

“Sign the agreement, and no one touches your father’s things.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re threatening me with my father’s belongings?”

His grip tightened around the phone.

“I’m asking you to let this go.”

Something inside me cracked all over again.

“Raffaele, do you even know what I lost because of her? I lost our—”

“Livia, please!”

Domenica suddenly dropped to her knees beside my bed.

She looked up at me through tear-filled eyes.

“His parents can never know about this. If they find out I caused a scandal right after becoming Donna, I’ll lose everything I have in the Family.”

“Domenica.” Raffaele frowned. “Get up.”

She shook her head.

“Not until Livia forgives me.”

Raffaele’s jaw tightened. He looked at Domenica on her knees, then at me.

“Livia, enough. She’s already begging you. What more do you want?”

I stared at him.

He had come to my hospital room without even knowing why I was here, yet somehow, he had already decided that Domenica was the one who needed protecting.

The words I had almost spoken died in my throat.

There was no point anymore.

I looked down at the agreement, then slowly rested a hand over my now-flat stomach.

My baby was gone. Whatever had existed between Raffaele and me should end here too.

“Fine. I’ll sign.”

I took the pen and signed my name at the bottom.

Raffaele visibly relaxed, but the moment he saw the dead look in my eyes, an inexplicable fear came over him.

“Livia…”

I handed the agreement back to him.

“Take her home.”

He reached for my hand and held it tightly.

“No. I’m staying here with you.”

I gently pulled my hand from his.

“I just want to be alone for a while.”

I turned my face toward the window. There was nothing left for us to talk about.

A long silence passed between us. In the end, Raffaele let go of my hand and left.

Early the next morning, I checked myself out of the hospital and went our home one last time. Raffaele was away handling urgent business for the Family.

I began packing my things one by one, including everything my father had left me.

For years, I had believed this would be the home Raffaele and I shared for the rest of our lives. I had never bothered drawing lines between what belonged to him and what belonged to me.

Only when I finally began packing did I realize that leaving someone’s life behind could fit into two suitcases.

That afternoon, I arrived at the airport with two suitcases. The Paris firm had already confirmed my start date.

Once I was on the plane, I switched off my phone, pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and dropped it into the trash bag.

Through the window, I took one last look at the city I had called home for seven years.

Raffaele, may we never see each other again.

At the same time, Raffaele had just finished a Family meeting when the hospital called.

“Mr. Moretti, we’re calling about Miss Bellandi. She insisted on leaving after the miscarriage, and we were concerned about her condition. We just wanted to make sure she was all right.”

The phone slipped from Raffaele’s hand and hit the floor. “What did you say?!”