The Don’s Wrong Bride: Now He’s Obsessed With Her

Gianna’s POV

The dark sky erupted with blinding lights as hundreds of firecrackers burst into the air.

I stood near the wall-to-ceiling window, watching the fireworks with stunned eyes because this… watching fireworks had been my favorite thing since childhood.

And tonight, it was my husband who was making it happen.

But not for me.

It was for his first love, Naya. 

For her birthday.

I had seen the report on the news earlier—that Leone had bought out every fireworks display in the city and ordered them to keep the sky lit until dawn. The report also claimed that Leone was planning to marry his longtime girlfriend.

Marry her?

He was already married to me—Naya’s younger sister, Gianna Valenti, the fat, unwanted outcast of the family. 

However, Leone had never acknowledged our marriage publicly. He never took me to an event, a gala, or any celebration where other wives stood proudly beside their husbands. I was always left at home, waiting for him like a dutiful, loyal wife while he traveled around the world with a different woman on his arm, making headlines in every newspaper and tabloid.

The world didn’t even know I existed. Only a handful of people in our family circle knew I was his wife.

When I married Leone, I never imagined my life would become even worse than it had been in my parents’ home.

My own parents had never liked me. They always said I didn’t look like a Valenti. I wasn’t charming or attractive, and I certainly didn’t know how to carry myself the way Naya did.

She had the perfect figure, beautiful features, and a natural confidence that made people notice her the moment she walked into a room. She always knew how to dress, how to behave, and how to make people admire her.

When she became Leone’s girlfriend, my parents were overjoyed. To the world, they were the perfect couple.

Then, five years ago, Leone was brutally attacked during a gang war and fell into a coma.

Naya abandoned him without a second thought. She wasn’t about to waste her youth waiting on a man who might never wake up.

But I stayed.

I believed that with enough care, he would open his eyes again. When his doctors eventually gave up, claiming he was beyond saving, I refused to accept it. I dropped out of school, threw away my dreams, and devoted every second of my life to him. I spent months searching for rare herbs, remedies, and holistic therapies to supplement his care. Day after day, I sat beside his bed—talking to him, massaging his useless muscles, holding his cold hand, and praying for a miracle.

After a year of unrelenting effort, my devotion paid off. He woke up.

His mother and sister wept with joy, celebrating his return. Yet no one acknowledged the endless nights I had spent beside his bed, refusing to give up on him.

Still, I didn’t care.

He was alive. He was awake and healthy. That was enough for me.

Only his grandmother, Grandma Caroline, seemed to truly see me. Months later, when she became bedridden, she asked Leone to fulfill her last wish and marry me. He eventually agreed, and we became husband and wife.

She was the only person who made me believe that maybe things could still change, that one day Leone might love me back. She kept supporting me until the day she died. And when she was gone, so was the only person who had ever stood by me.

My heart bled, shattering piece by piece, every time I saw Leone with another woman. I would go back to our room and cry alone, wondering how much longer I could keep waiting for a man who might never love me.

But it turned out that I was an idiot to believe fairytales were real.

Real life isn't a storybook.

A girl like me—fat, unattractive, and always treated like the family disappointment—was never going to make a handsome prince fall in love with her.

And when Naya suddenly came back, Leone chose her. He was always going to choose her. 

I looked at my faint reflection in the window. My swollen, shapeless figure and disheveled hair seemed to mock me, a cruel reminder of everything I could never be. 

I had never been enough for him.

Maybe that was why he was with Naya tonight instead of me.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened loudly, making me jump.

I instinctively turned around, only to find my husband entering and closing the door behind him.

What?

Wasn’t he supposed to be celebrating Naya’s birthday?

Before I could stop myself, the question slipped from my mouth.

“You came home?”

His stormy grey eyes narrowed in clear annoyance.

“Why? Were you expecting someone else?”

“No…”

I stammered, trying to find the right words as he walked toward me, his overwhelming presence making me tremble under his sharp glare.

“I just… I thought…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Without a word, he pulled a box from the inner pocket of his coat and dropped it into my hand.

I blinked in confusion, but he didn’t stay. He simply turned away, removed his coat, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What’s this?” I murmured, not even realizing I had said it out loud.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, his expression hard.

“Your anniversary gift.”

“My… gift?”

I stared at him in surprise.

He turned back to unbuttoning his shirt.

“Take it and stop making a fuss. I have better things to do than listen to you complain.”

I barely heard him. My mind was still processing the fact that he had brought me a gift for our third anniversary.

Oh yes, today was our anniversary!

Even I had forgotten, but… he remembered?!

With hesitant fingers, I popped the latch open. The massive diamond necklace inside caught the light, making me stare. In a daze, I lifted the necklace from the box, completely forgetting that the box had slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor. 

Wait...

Wasn’t this the piece they had been talking about on the news this morning?

It was called The Azure Rose, named for the enormous 20-carat blue diamond at its center. Surrounded by flawless white diamonds and ultra-rare pink stones set in platinum, it had once belonged to an old Italian noble family before vanishing into a private collection for decades.

When it finally resurfaced at auction, Leone had fought off three billionaires to claim it, dropping $60 million—making it the most expensive jewelry purchase in world history.

And according to every report, he had bought it as a birthday gift for Naya.

“Wasn’t this for Naya?”

The question slipped out, barely more than a stunned whisper.

He turned sharply toward me, leaving his shirt partly unbuttoned and his bare chest exposed. The scowl on his handsome face remained, the furrow between his brows deepening as he looked at me.

“Aren’t you happy you got it?” he asked, his voice laced with disdain. “Isn’t money the only thing you care about?”

His gaze dropped to the necklace in my hands before returning to my face.

“You should be happy, Gia. Sixty million dollars. Isn’t that enough to satisfy you?”

His eyes mocked me, raking down the length of my body with a look that wounded far deeper than any physical weapon ever could. He averted his gaze as if the sight of me repulsed him, turning back toward the mirror to resume unbuttoning his shirt.

"Now do what a good wife is supposed to do when her husband comes home."

My fingers tightened around the box, the sharp edge of the velvet digging into my palm.

I had waited three years for this marriage to become something more. I had endured everything—humiliation from his family, rejection from my own, his affairs, and all the times he mocked me and treated me like his private punching bag.

I had put up with every cruelty, holding on to one fragile hope: that maybe, one day, he would change. That he would finally see me as more than an unwanted fixture in his house. That he might actually love me.

But now Naya was back.

And after hearing him announce that he planned to marry her, whatever little hope I had left was completely shattered.

So I finally said the words I never thought I would say to the man I had loved with all my heart, long before I ever became his wife.

“Since Naya is back, let’s get a divorce.”