LOGINFour months pregnant. I was alone when a rival family came for me.. A searing pain tore through my stomach. I couldn't reach my husband, Don Lorenzo. His phone was off. I woke up in a sterile hospital bed. Three days had passed. And the baby... was gone. That’s when I heard the nurses gossiping. “Heard Don Lorenzo cleared out a block of Fifth Avenue for his mistress three days ago. Had his phone off so they wouldn't be disturbed.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my heart was empty. I gave up my career, my whole life, for him. The Don who promised me forever… he shattered that promise just days before our fifth anniversary. Back home, I dug out an old phone and made a call. A number I hadn't touched in five years. "The European tour you mentioned…" I said, my voice hollow. "I'm in. I can be ready in a week."
View MoreElena’s POVLorenzo walked toward me.Every step was heavy, as if he was trying to press two years of longing into the polished floor.A fire burned in his eyes—that familiar, possessive look.Just as he was about to touch me, a tall figure stepped between us."Step away from my fiancée."The deep, Italian accent echoed through the terminal.Lorenzo stopped dead, his eyes instantly turning dangerous.He looked up at the man.Six-foot-three, dark brown hair, a custom-tailored navy suit.And an ancient family crest pinned to his lapel.Lorenzo’s blood ran cold."The Don of the Ricci family," he spat, the name like poison on his tongue.Matteo Ricci.The current Don of one of the oldest mafia families in Italy.And, for the last two years, my lover."Elena?" Lorenzo looked at me in shock. "What is this?"I looked at him calmly. "We've been divorced for a long time, Lorenzo."I paused. "It’s normal for me to move on. After all, you moved on long before our marriage was even over."Matteo t
Elena’s POVThe first snow in Vienna was beautiful.I stood by the rehearsal hall’s floor-to-ceiling window, watching the flakes drift down."Aria, are you ready?"Sophie walked over, holding my mask.Yes, Aria. That was my new name."I'm ready." I took the exquisite Venetian mask and gently put it on.For the past three months, I'd been performing under this name. The Vienna Philharmonic welcomed me on one condition: I performed under a pseudonym, and I wore a mask.But once my cello began to sing, no one questioned it again."Tonight is the last show in Paris," Sophie said. "The audience is dying to hear your solo."I nodded and picked up my cello.Sophie had helped me buy this one. It wasn't as precious as my old one, but it had seen me through ten cities on this tour.Three months. Ten shows.I was finding my confidence again. My joy.Here, I didn't have to wonder if I was loved. I didn't have to touch that filthy underworld.I just had to be me.The concert hall was brilliant, the
Lorenzo’s POVVanessa fell to the floor, clutching her red cheek."Lorenzo? What did I do wrong?" she sobbed.I threw the Instagram screenshots in her face."You stupid bitch," I hissed, my voice colder than the grave. "You dared flaunt this to my wife?"Vanessa’s face went white when she saw the pictures."Lorenzo, I... I was just...""Just what?" I loomed over her, my shadow swallowing her whole. "Just wanted the world to know you're my whore?"She knelt on the floor, tears streaming down her face."But you didn't even care that she had a miscarriage! Why are you blaming me?"I froze.I stared down at her. "How did you know Elena had a miscarriage?"Realizing what she’d said, her eyes darted away. "I... I didn't... I just saw you now, and I guessed...""You guessed?" I crouched, grabbing her jaw in a vise-grip. "Look. At. Me.""I don't know anything!" she cried. "Lorenzo, I swear, I don't know anything!"I let her go and pulled out my phone, dialing Marco."Find out what happened to
Lorenzo's POVI stared at the divorce papers.How dare she? How dare Elena end this without my permission?White-hot rage tore through me. I reached into the box for whatever else was in there.A few printed photos scattered across the floor.My blood ran cold when I saw them.Screenshots. From Instagram.I didn't recognize the account name, but I knew the man in the pictures. It was me.Kissing Vanessa in the pool.Feeding her grapes.Holding Vanessa on a private jet, watching the Northern Lights.Every picture had a gloating caption. The posts spanned three whole months.Vanessa.That goddamn bitch had a private account, showing off our affair to the world.And Elena had seen it all.I pictured it. A pregnant Elena, forced to watch her husband dote on another woman.Pregnant.The word stopped my heart for a second, then a wave of relief washed over me.Of course. The baby. My baby.Elena was pregnant. And she was such a gentle, traditional woman.No matter how much she hated me, she
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