Lahat ng Kabanata ng 1,826 Private Photos. All Her. None of Me.: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The day I got my terminal cancer diagnosis, I stumbled upon a hidden album on my mafia husband’s phone.One thousand eight hundred and twenty-six intimate photos.All of the same woman. None of me.Three years into our marriage, all of New York still feared Damian Moretti.Even as his only legal wife, I never dared ask about the blood on his cuffs—or the stranger’s perfume clinging to his skin late at night. I used to think he was simply born cold-blooded. Until I saw her on his screen, wearing his shirt in a secret penthouse I didn’t know existed, smiling freely in his arms.The cruelest part? The timestamp on the last photo was from two hours ago—the exact moment I was sitting alone at the hospital, signing my own Do-Not-Resuscitate form.When Damian walked out of the bathroom, he caught me staring at the screen.No guilt. No panic.He just walked over, took the phone from my frozen hand, and hit delete without a flicker of emotion.“Stay out of things that don’t concern you,” he sai

I closed my eyes.In the past, when I heard that tone, I would explain first.Explain why I hadn't answered his call in time, why I hadn't waited for the driver, why I'd said two extra words to someone he didn't like.Tonight, I didn't want to explain."Did you arrange that woman's house too?""That's not what you should be concerned about right now.""Then what should I be concerned about?""You're putting our private business in front of all of New York."Our.He said it so easily."Now you remember I'm your wife?"A door closed on the other end.Damian seemed to have walked somewhere quiet."I'm sending someone to pick you up.""No need.""Vivan."His voice dropped."Don't make me repeat myself."I looked at the comments scrolling on my private phone. The livestream was still going, and he probably thought the phone I was using to talk to Matteo was the one streaming.He didn't know every word was being heard.[She said no need. Did you hear that?][That's not a discussion. That's a

Damian glanced at the screen.His first instinct was to decline.But his thumb hovered next to the answer button.I watched him and said nothing.The ringing stopped, then started again quickly.This time, he answered."Chloe."He turned and walked only two steps away.The cemetery was too quiet.Even though he didn't put it on speaker, I could still hear the broken sobbing on the other end."Someone sent me the livestream... Damian, I didn't mean to. I didn't know she would—""Don't look at that stuff."His tone changed.Lower. Slower.Like he was approaching a frightened animal."Give the phone to whoever's with you."Something else was said on the other end.Damian closed his eyes."I know. Don't be alone tonight."I watched his back and remembered the night I had emergency surgery. The nurse called him three times.The person who finally came to sign was the housekeeper."It's not your fault," Damian said.My hands slowly clenched on my knees."I'll come over after I finish up here

Damian’s white cuff still carried the dried brown stains of my blood.His fist was twisted in the oncologist’s coat.Through the double glass, I could not hear everything. I could only see the older man speaking, his expression grave.Matteo tried to pull Damian’s arm away.Damian knocked him aside with an elbow.The doctor held up a scan and pointed to the shadows across it.Slowly, Damian released his collar.He stepped backward and struck the wall with his shoulders.For a long time, he stood with his head lowered. Then he raised his right hand and pressed it hard against his forehead.A few minutes later, my door opened.He seemed to have washed his face. His hair was damp, his expression controlled again.His eyes were bloodshot.He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to straighten my blanket.I drew my left hand beneath it before he could touch me.His fingers stopped in midair.“The medication stopped the bleeding,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “The doctors here are too con

Not Vivian Moretti, the name I had signed on charity checks and dinner invitations for three years.Vivian Hayes.My own name.The papers he had left on the cemetery gravel had found their way back to him.Only the monitor broke the silence.“She’s this sick,” Damian said, looking at Evelyn. “And instead of persuading her to focus on treatment, you’re helping her pursue a divorce?”“My client’s time is precisely why we’re here.”Evelyn did not lower her eyes.“She does not intend to spend her last three months in a marriage built on deception. If you refuse to cooperate, we will file this afternoon.”She rested a hand on the folder.“The livestream and testimony about the restrictions your staff placed on her movements will be submitted as evidence.”Damian walked to the table and lifted the agreement.I expected him to seize my wrist again.Instead, he looked at the IV in my hand.He did not touch me.He tore the papers in half, then tore them again.White scraps fell onto the dark ca