Chapter 1

I was Damian Valenti’s legal wife.

But to the rest of New York, Sofia Bellini was the woman he planned to marry—and I was the pregnant mistress who refused to let him go.

Damian said it was only for show. Sofia’s husband had died saving his life, and he had promised to protect her. She needed the wedding and the title of Donna.

I already had what mattered: his love, his fortune, and our real marriage.

At least, that was what Damian believed.

He was so certain I would understand that he spent our seventh anniversary helping Sofia choose her wedding dress.

He never noticed that I was in the fitting room beside them, wearing the dress he had once promised to see me in.

As Sofia admired herself in the mirror, Damian told her she looked beautiful.

I lowered my eyes to the faint curve of my stomach and rested a hand over it.

Then I made the one decision he never believed I was capable of making.

He could give Sofia my wedding, my home, and my name.

But he could no longer keep his wife and his heir.

Chapter 1

Outside the fitting room, Sofia had chosen a wedding dress similar to mine.

She adjusted the skirt in front of the mirror and turned to Damian.

“What do you think?”

Damian studied her for a moment.

“You look beautiful.”

The consultant glanced through the gap in my curtain with a smile.

“Ms. Valenti, would you like to come out and see yours properly? That dress suits you.”

I lowered my eyes to the curve of my five-month pregnancy.

“No, thank you.”

Seven years ago, when Damian and I signed our marriage papers, there had been no wedding and no Donna ceremony publicly recognizing me as the woman beside the head of the Valenti family.

He had promised we would have one someday.

Now, the first time I had actually put on a wedding dress, Damian was outside helping Sofia prepare for her Donna ceremony.

I changed back into my clothes just as my phone rang.

Damian.

“Elena, have you had lunch?”

I could still hear a consultant discussing veils in the background.

“I’m sorry I can’t spend our anniversary with you today. Something came up with Sofia. I’ll be home tonight.”

I pulled back the curtain.

Across the showroom, Sofia stood in front of a mirror while Damian took a veil from the consultant beside her.

“So this is the emergency? Helping Sofia prepare for the Donna ceremony?”

The line went quiet.

“Where are you?”

“When is the ceremony?”

Damian avoided the question for a moment before answering.

“Next month.”

“And there’ll be a wedding?”

This pause lasted longer.

“Yes.”

I looked at the dress I had just taken off.

Damian moved somewhere quieter before lowering his voice.

“Marco died saving my life. The Bellinis entrusted Sofia to me. They want her to have a secure position within the Valenti family, and I gave them my word.”

“So you gave her the position of Donna.”

“It’s a public title. Our marriage is real. Legally, you’re Mrs. Valenti.”

His tone remained calm, as if that settled everything.

“You know who I love. A ceremony doesn’t change that.”

Not long ago, one of his friends had asked him the same question.

I was his wife. If all of New York saw Sofia as the Valenti Donna, what did that make me?

Damian’s answer had been simple. I had the real marriage, and I knew where his heart was.

So, of course, I would understand.

After seven years, he had grown used to my understanding.

“Damian, did you ever consider that I might care?”

Silence stretched between us.

“Elena, I made a promise to the Bellinis. I can’t pretend Marco’s sacrifice never happened.”

Weariness entered his voice.

“Don’t make one ceremony more important than it is.”

I had no interest in arguing anymore.

“I understand.”

Damian exhaled, clearly relieved.

“I knew you would.”

I ended the call.

When I left the bridal boutique, Sofia had already changed into another gown. Damian stood beside her while the designer discussed alterations, and neither of them noticed me walk past.

I went straight to my mother’s house.

After hearing everything, she was quiet for a long time.

“You’ve decided?”

“Yes.”

I looked down at my wedding ring.

“I’m divorcing Damian.”

She didn’t try to change my mind. She only took my hand.

“If you’re sure, then do it. I’m with you.”

On the way home, I saw Sofia’s latest post.

The photo showed a fully furnished apartment. Men’s and women’s shoes stood together near the entrance, and two place settings waited on the dining table.

The caption read:

Finally home.

Several people in the comments were already calling her Donna Valenti.

Damian corrected no one.

He only replied:

Welcome home.

I recognized the apartment immediately.

It was one floor below the home Damian and I shared.

He didn’t come back that night.

At three in the morning, I woke and instinctively reached toward his side of the bed. My fingers met cold sheets.

I sat in the darkness for a while before calling him.

He answered after several rings, his voice thick with sleep.

“Elena?”

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

I looked at the empty space beside me and tightened my grip on the phone.

“Damian.”

“Yeah?”

“Which home?”

Chapter 2

Three minutes later, Damian came through the door with the cold still clinging to his coat.

The living room was dark. When he saw me by the entrance, guilt crossed his face.

“Sorry. I helped Sofia move this afternoon and fell asleep downstairs. Have you been waiting long?”

“Where did she move?”

Damian paused.

“Downstairs.”

I had already guessed, yet hearing him admit it still felt absurd. One floor below the home Damian and I had shared for seven years was the home he had prepared for his future Donna.

“The Bellinis entrusted her to me. I promised I’d look after her. Having her close makes things easier.”

Easier.

He could give her the public title, the wedding, and now a home directly beneath mine, all for convenience.

Damian noticed my expression.

“Don’t keep dwelling on this. I’ll take you for wedding photos tomorrow. You used to ask me about them.”

He had spent the day choosing a wedding dress with Sofia, and now he was offering me photographs that could never be shown publicly.

“Forget it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want them anymore.”

The next morning, Damian brought several bridal magazines. He had barely set them down when the doorbell rang.

Mr. and Mrs. Bellini stood outside carrying gifts. Their smiles vanished when they saw me.

Sofia’s mother noticed my pregnancy first.

“What are you doing here?”

Recognition hardened her face.

“You again? Sofia is about to have her Donna ceremony, and you’re pregnant and still living in Damian’s home. What exactly are you trying to do?”

I said nothing.

“You’ve followed Damian around for years. Now Sofia is about to marry into the Valenti family, and you’re still here. Do you have no shame about chasing another woman’s fiancé?”

Her husband looked me over coldly.

“Clinging to a man for years, getting pregnant, and moving into his home is humiliating.”

My hand tightened around the door handle, but I felt strangely calm.

So this was who I had always been to them.

Damian came out of the bedroom before I could answer. He slowed when he saw the Bellinis.

Sofia’s mother pointed at me.

“Damian, why is she living here? You’re about to marry Sofia. What do you think people will say about our daughter?”

Damian’s jaw tightened.

I watched him without asking for an explanation. He had had seven years to tell people I was his wife. I had already decided to leave, so I no longer needed a late defense.

“Say something,” Mrs. Bellini demanded.

“Elena has her reasons for staying here.”

“What reasons?”

Damian fell silent.

Mr. Bellini frowned.

“We trusted you with our daughter because we believed you would give her the respect she deserves. She will soon be Donna of the Valenti family. We won’t have rumors before the wedding.”

“There won’t be,” Damian said quickly. “Sofia’s Donna ceremony will not be affected.”

That was enough.

Mrs. Bellini looked at my stomach.

“And her? Are you planning to let her stay after you marry Sofia?”

I lifted my eyes.

“You’ve always believed I’m Damian’s mistress?”

She gave a cold laugh.

“Aren’t you?”

“Then perhaps you should ask whether the man Sofia plans to marry already has a wife.”

Both Bellinis froze.

Mr. Bellini’s expression changed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means—”

“Elena.”

Damian cut me off.

I turned toward him. His face was tense. He was afraid I would tell them the truth and destroy Sofia’s Donna ceremony.

Mrs. Bellini immediately looked at him.

“Damian, what is she talking about?”

The room stayed silent for several seconds.

Damian looked at me, then turned away.

“Elena will not affect Sofia.”

Mr. Bellini’s voice hardened.

“That isn’t what I asked. Who are you marrying?”

Damian’s fingers curled at his side.

“Sofia.”

One name was enough.

Mrs. Bellini’s expression relaxed as she turned back to me.

“You heard him. He’s getting married. How long do you plan to keep humiliating yourself?”

I looked at Damian.

He knew I was the woman whose name had been on his marriage certificate for seven years. He knew the child I carried was his. Still, in front of the Bellinis, Sofia was the woman he chose to call his bride.

Damian avoided my eyes.

“Elena, that’s enough for today. Don’t make this uglier than it already is.”

Mr. Bellini looked at me coldly.

“Have some dignity and walk away.”

I nodded.

“All right.”

Damian’s head snapped toward me, but I was already done.

He had just told everyone in that room exactly who he intended the world to see as his wife.

Chapter 3

Damian’s single word, “Sofia,” had already made my place clear enough.

The Bellinis looked at me differently now. Sofia’s mother sneered that I had no shame, while her father studied my stomach for a moment before turning to Damian.

“And the baby she’s carrying? Is it yours?”

The room went silent.

Damian’s fingers slowly curled into his palm.

I watched him without stepping in to help, and I didn’t ask him to answer.

A few seconds later, he did.

“No.”

I gave a small laugh.

Seven years of marriage and a child already five months along could both be erased in public for the sake of Sofia’s Donna ceremony.

At that moment, Sofia hurried upstairs after hearing the commotion.

“Mom? Dad? Why are you here?”

She stepped into the living room and immediately sensed the tension. Her mother was about to speak when her attention dropped to my left hand.

I was still wearing the wedding ring Damian had placed on my finger seven years ago.

The design was simple, with the Valenti crest engraved inside the band.

Mrs. Bellini’s expression darkened.

“Why are you wearing that ring?”

Before I could answer, Sofia looked over.

Her gaze rested on it for several seconds.

“That’s the Valenti family ring they’re supposed to use at the Donna ceremony. Damian told me he would give it to me.”

So he had promised her that too.

Mrs. Bellini turned to Damian.

“Then why does she have it?”

Damian said nothing.

I looked at his face and lost the last bit of interest in waiting for an explanation.

I removed the ring myself and held it in my palm.

Seven years ago, when Damian slipped it onto my finger, he told me that from then on, I was the true lady of the Valenti family.

Now even that title had become something he needed me to hide.

I walked over and held the ring out to him.

“This is what you need, right?”

“Elena.”

He didn’t take it.

“Take it.”

My voice stayed calm.

“Your Donna shouldn’t be left without a ring.”

Damian’s expression changed.

After a long pause, he finally accepted it.

Sofia watched the ring in his hand.

Damian passed it to her.

“Keep it for now.”

A small smile appeared on her face.

“Thank you.”

She glanced down at the ring, then back at me.

“Some positions can’t be kept just because you’re wearing a ring.”

I ignored her.

Mr. Bellini had already lost patience.

“Damian, settle this today. Sofia should not have to deal with this kind of humiliation after her Donna ceremony.”

Damian remained silent for a long moment before walking toward me.

“Elena.”

His voice lowered, almost as if he were reminding me to cooperate.

“Stay somewhere else for a while.”

“How long?”

“Until the Donna ceremony is over.”

Mrs. Bellini frowned.

“And after that?”

Damian paused.

“Sofia will be the Donna publicly recognized by the Valenti family.”

He stopped there.

It was enough.

His legal wife was being asked to leave her own home so another woman could step into it as his bride.

I nodded.

“All right.”

Damian visibly faltered. Even he had not expected me to agree so quickly.

I picked up my coat and walked toward the door.

Behind me, Mr. Bellini said, “Good. A person should know when to preserve some dignity.”

I didn’t turn around.

The elevator doors were almost closed when Damian caught them and stepped inside.

“I’ll walk you down.”

He said nothing during the ride.

Only when we reached the underground garage did he catch my wrist, then release it almost immediately.

“Elena, what I said upstairs was for the Bellinis.”

I looked at him.

“Including saying the baby isn’t yours?”

His face tightened.

“If I admitted it, they would start asking questions about us. The Donna ceremony is already arranged. I can’t tell them the truth now.”

“And the ring?”

“I’ll get it back after the ceremony.”

He said it with such certainty, as though anything taken from me could simply be returned later and everything would be fine.

“The apartment is the same. Stay with your mother for a few days. Once this is over, I’ll bring you home.”

I listened without interrupting.

Damian seemed to mistake my silence for acceptance, and his voice softened.

“I know today hurt you. When the ceremony is over, I’ll make it up to you.”

“I know.”

Relief crossed his face.

I looked at the man I had been married to for seven years and finished the logic for him.

“You only want the Bellinis reassured. For a few days, the baby can stop being yours, my wedding ring can belong to Sofia, and I can leave my own home.”

Damian frowned.

“Elena, that’s not what I meant.”

“It makes no difference.”

I had no interest in arguing anymore.

“Damian.”

“Yeah?”

“I want a divorce.”

Chapter 4

Damian froze for a second, then rubbed between his brows as though this were another argument that would eventually pass.

“Elena, stop. We’ve been married for seven years, and you’re carrying our child. You’re not really going to leave me.”

His phone rang before I could answer.

Sofia was calling to remind him that her parents were still waiting upstairs.

Damian told her he was coming, then looked back at me.

“Once the Donna ceremony is over, I’ll fix what happened today. I’ll get the ring back too. We’ll talk when we’re home.”

Then he turned and walked away.

I didn’t stop him.

The next day, my mother accompanied me to a prenatal appointment.

We were crossing an intersection when a black car slammed into us from behind.

The impact threw me forward. When I looked down, blood was already soaking through my skirt.

My mother screamed my name.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw Sofia climbing out of the car behind us through the shattered window.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop in time. I swear I didn’t mean to hit you!”

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

My mother sat beside the bed with swollen, red eyes. She held my hand for a long time before finally forcing herself to speak.

“We lost the baby.”

The nurse removed the equipment beside my bed while my mother carefully put away the bloodstained ultrasound image.

At twenty weeks, the baby already had a clear shape.

Only yesterday, Damian had been so certain that our child was one of the reasons I would never truly leave him.

Now our child was gone.

At ten that night, Damian called.

The first thing he asked was for me to sign a statement agreeing not to pursue the accident.

His voice sounded tired, as if he were dealing with a problem that had already gone on far longer than necessary.

“Did Sofia ask you to call me?”

“She didn’t hit you on purpose.” Damian paused. “She told me you weren’t seriously hurt. If you’re fine, why do you need to take this any further?”

I looked at the medical report beside my bed.

“You’re sure I’m fine?”

“Sofia said the doctors treated you. You were shaken up, that’s all.”

Silence hung between us for two seconds.

Damian seemed to assume I was still angry over what had happened with the Bellinis. When he spoke again, impatience had crept into his voice.

“Elena, I know you’re angry with me. Blame me if you want, but don’t take it out on Sofia. Her Donna ceremony is coming up. She can’t have a reckless-driving charge hanging over her now.”

So even my refusal to forgive her was only revenge in his eyes.

“I’m not signing it.”

I ended the call.

Less than half an hour later, my hospital door opened.

Sofia walked in with two men in black suits. One of them placed the statement on the table beside me.

The panic she had shown at the accident scene was gone.

“Damian sent me to get your signature. He wants this matter finished.”

“Get out.”

My mother reached for the call button, but one of the men stepped in front of her. I picked up my phone to call the police, and the other man took it from my hand before blocking the door.

Sofia watched me calmly.

“Damian already believes me. What exactly do you think you’re accomplishing by refusing?”

“Give me my phone.”

I reached for it.

The man caught my arm and shoved me back against the bed. My lower back struck the rail, and pain tore through my abdomen. The bleeding that had only just stopped started again, spreading across my hospital gown.

Sofia glanced down at the stain.

“The baby is already gone. Pursuing this won’t change that.”

She placed a pen beside my hand.

“Sign it.”

I looked at her.

Her expression held the confidence of someone who had already won.

“You should understand by now, Elena. Whenever I ask, Damian always chooses my side.”

Something inside me finally went quiet.

I picked up the pen and signed my name.

Then, while Sofia was still looking at the accident statement, I quietly opened the bedside drawer and slipped two documents underneath it.

A set of divorce papers.

My medical report.

I closed the drawer as if nothing had happened.

“You win. Take this to Damian.”

Sofia didn’t notice what I had slipped underneath.

She assumed I had finally surrendered.

Half an hour later, the documents arrived at the Valenti estate.

Damian picked up the accident statement first.

The moment he saw my signature, the tension he had carried all evening finally eased.

“I knew Elena wouldn’t really make things difficult for Sofia.”

He set the paper down, almost amused.

“She’s still angry with me. I’ll go see her tonight, we’ll talk, and this will be over.”

Only then did he notice the two documents underneath.

The first was the signed divorce filing.

Beneath it was my medical report.

Patient: Elena Valenti

Date of admission: the day of the collision

The diagnosis was only one line.

Pregnancy loss at twenty weeks due to trauma sustained in the collision.