Seven Years His Secret

My hands shook as I opened the photo and zoomed in, bit by bit.

The scar stretched across the back of his hand, vicious and unmistakable. I had kissed it countless times in the dark, tears streaming down my face, believing it was proof that Dante Castellano loved me. Now, it looked more like a knife plunging into my eyes.

Seven years. His promise still echoed in my ears. The weight of that ten-carat ring box from last night still pressed against my palm.

I had already planned the wedding. When he slept beside me with that scarred hand resting on my stomach, I had already chosen names for our children in my head.

Yet that ring was never meant for me.

No. My brain refused to accept it.

I would ask him. I had to find him.

I immediately called a cab to the hotel and dialed his number. He used to answer within a second. Today, I only got a busy signal. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to give up.

When I dialed for the 20th time, a massive crash exploded around me. My body flew through the air. The screech of a horn stabbed at my spinning head as excruciating pain tore through my entire body.

Then something warm began flowing from inside me. I pressed my hands to my abdomen, feeling the life there slipping through my fingers.

"No, no, no. Save my baby!"

However, no one around me heard my cry for help.

I endured the searing pain and dialed Dante's number again with trembling fingers. This would be my 21st call. I hit the dial button, my thumb smearing blood across the screen.

"Pick up. Pick up. Just this once in my life, please, pick up..."

The call finally connected. I grabbed onto it like a lifeline, about to beg for help, when a woman's voice came through.

"Honey, do you think she'll be mad at me when she sees the news?"

It was Alessia Romano's voice. I had watched her announcement video so many times, comparing myself to her like a fool. I knew that voice well.

"She's just a stand-in. What right does she have to be mad? Without me, that orphan would still be rotting in the gutter. Besides, she loves me too much to leave. Even if she sees the news, she'll stay. She always does."

At that moment, all the blood in my body seemed to freeze. The phone slipped from my hand. The edges of the world began to blur as the agony in my abdomen swallowed everything.

Before I passed out, I thought to myself that this could not be my Dante. It had to be a stranger speaking with my lover's voice.

...

I woke to harsh fluorescent lights and the smell of disinfectant. The doctor had not yet opened his mouth, but his pained expression already told me everything.

"I'm very sorry. You were less than three months along. There was nothing we could do."

My hand moved to my empty stomach. My gaze fixed on the ceiling as my eyes burned with unshed tears.

I had been planning to surprise Dante with the news. A baby. A family. But he had destroyed it all with his own hands.

I wiped my tears and dialed a number I had saved long ago but never used.

"Papa."

His voice shook. "Chiara? Is it really you?"

"I've made my decision." My voice came out flat and cold. "I'll accept the arranged marriage and take over the family business. But I have one condition."

"As long as you come home, anything you want."

"Get Alessia Romano out of our family."

Papa did not hesitate. "Done. But sweetheart, has something happened?"

I swallowed the sob that was about to break through. "Nothing I can't handle. I'll call you back later."

I hung up.

They thought I was an orphan with nothing. They were wrong.

A month ago, my biological parents found me. They told me I was the true heir to the Marchesi family. Alessia Romano was a fraud. Her mother had switched us when we were infants, stealing my cradle, my name, my inheritance.

I had not cared at the time. I had Dante. I did not need some mafia empire.

How foolish.

Now, Alessia wanted to wear my identity, marry my man, and bury me in the slums. Well, not while I was still breathing.

Then my phone buzzed again. It was a text message.

"Chiara, do you really think Dante loves you? Three months ago, when you were falsely accused of shoplifting and tried to call him for help, he was in the next dressing room screwing me for three hours."

My nails dug deep into my palms as my whole body shook.

A second message arrived.

"You're lucky you didn't die in that accident. Stay away from Dante, or next time I won't miss. And you won't wake up."

It was Alessia behind everything! She actually tried to kill me just to have Dante. My child died because of her.

I stared at those words until they blurred, then I saved both screenshots.

Evidence. Patience. Seven years of hiding had taught me how to wait.

Social media pushed another notification to my phone. I opened it reflexively and saw Alessia announcing her happy news with Dante. The comments below were full of congratulations.

"Seven years and he finally got her to say yes. Amazing!"

"He kept that ring warm for seven years waiting for her 'I do.' That's true love."

"The most devoted man alive. Congratulations."

Each word slammed into my heart. In seven years, none of his friends knew I existed.

She got his public commitment, his kisses in daylight, and 100 proposals. And I only deserved to be locked in a room, listening to him recycle secondhand sweet nothings meant for someone else.

Just then, the hospital room door suddenly opened. Dante appeared in the doorway holding a bouquet of roses, his face wearing that same gentle, devoted smile.

"Cara, I heard you were in the hospital, so I rushed over as fast as I could. Thank God you're okay."

He placed the roses on my bedside table and pulled out a velvet box. Another diamond necklace, just like every other year.

"Happy seventh anniversary."

I said nothing.

He stepped closer, mistaking my silence for hurt over his missed calls. His hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up as his thumb brushed across my lower lip. It was tender and intimate, the way he always touched me before a kiss.

"I'm sorry. Work got crazy. You know I'd never ignore you on purpose. Forgive me?"

His eyes looked so sincere, so practiced.

Then, his gaze traveled downward and landed on my phone resting on my lap. The screen was still lit. The headline of Alessia going public with their relationship stared back at him.