Where Can I Read 'For Seven Years I Kept My Identity Secret'?

My husband pretended to lose his memory in a car accident just to fulfill his young girlfriend's wish to become vice president—and to strip me of my position. As I passed by, I accidentally overheard her whisper to him, "Since you agreed to let me borrow the title for seven days, can I borrow you for seven days too?" He smiled and leaned down to kiss her lips. "Of course. Use me however you like." I stopped in my tracks but did not expose his lie. The next day, at the conference table, he slammed his hand down and declared that his girlfriend was his real wife. He ordered me to get out of the company and hand over all my projects. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to put a stop to his outrageous performance.

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just starting to take off. If someone blackmails her with the child, her life will be ruined." "You're a woman too. Can't you understand?" This time, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I calmly signed my name on the divorce agreement that he had signed in a fit of pique some time ago. Then I called my professor: "I've thought it over. I'm willing to go with you to Iceland to do research."

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Gaining consciousness after her accident, Joanna realised a month had passed, and she couldn't remember anything from her past. As time passed, she felt everyone was hiding something from her, and she was almost locked inside her own house without any contact with the outside world. Then, an unexpected meeting with her sister in law and her doctor made her life take a new turn. Slowly truth started to unveil, shocking Joanna to the core and questioning her identity. What was everyone hiding from her? And Why? Will Joanna be able to find out?

While enrolling my son in an elite school, the administrator suddenly tells me my marriage certificate is forged. "According to our records, your marital status is listed as single." "But I've been married to my husband, Chandler Leighton, for seven years!" Behind me, other parents waiting in line burst out laughing mockingly. "Did she just say Chandler Leighton? She must be dreaming." Amid their ridicule, I leave and head straight to the city hall for a confirmation. And as a wife of seven years, my marital status in the system is stated as "Single". A cold dread washes over me as I press. "Who is Chandler Leighton's legal wife?" The clerk flatly spats out a name, "Heather Hammington." It was that name again! I rush home, ready to confront Chandler, but pause just outside the door when I hear voices inside. "It's been seven years, Mr. Leighton. Do you still have no plans to grant Mrs. Leighton a legal status?" After a lengthy pause, Chandler finally answers, "Just wait a little longer. Heather lost both her parents… I'm the only one who can help her, so she needs this title." "What if Mrs. Leighton finds out?" "Danielle loves me too much to leave, even if she finds out. Once Heather has established her foothold in the business industry, I'll make it official with Danielle and give her a true marriage certificate." He sounds so certain, unaware that I'm standing just outside the door with tears streaming down my face. "You'll be disappointed, you liar." I take out my phone and dial a number I haven't called in years. "Mom, I accept the Atwoods' marriage arrangement."

She was abandoned on her wedding day. He was the stranger who gave her his name. But in a marriage built on secrets, how long can love survive before the truth tears it apart?