Don Vincent White and I were known as soulmates.

Everyone in the city said so.

But our wedding never happened.

Every time we tried, something got in the way. Bad weather. Scheduling conflicts. Emergencies.

Three years ago, Vincent had to leave overseas to handle urgent family business. Before he went, he kissed my forehead and said, "I promise this is the last time. Wait for me."

I believed him.

So I waited. One thousand, ninety-five days.

Ten days ago, he finally came back.

I thought the three-year wait was over. I thought we would finally have our wedding.

Then last night, I overheard him talking to his underboss, Marco Blue, outside his study.

"You're really going to marry Miss Black? What about Vivian and the boy? Luca is over two years old now. He's your own son. This won't stay hidden forever."

"Back when Vivian was pregnant, you made up every excuse to delay the wedding. But if Miss Black ever finds out—"

Vincent's eyes cut like a blade.

"Sophia must never know. My wife will only ever be Sophia. Tell Vivian to watch her mouth and keep that child in line."

Luca. Two years old. His own flesh and blood.

So while I spent three years waiting for him to come home and marry me, he already had someone else. A child over two years old.

I stumbled back to the bedroom. Hands shaking, I called my grandfather.

"Grandfather, I'm ready. I'll take your place and become the Donna."

"What's wrong, Sophia? Haven't you been waiting for Vincent all these years? Now that he's finally back, shouldn't you be planning the wedding? What happened?"

I wanted to tell my grandfather everything. But the moment I opened my mouth, the tears came. Uncontrollable.

He was right. Everyone in the city knew I was in love with Don Vincent White.

From eighteen to twenty-three. Five years.

Three years ago, he took an urgent S-class mission. Before he left, he promised me one thing.

"Wait for me. When I come back, we get married."

Those words. That was all I needed. So I waited.

Three years of waiting.

During that time, I heard every rumor imaginable. People said Vincent was dead. Said he'd run off. Said he was never coming back.

I ignored all of it. I just counted the days until he returned and made me his wife.

Now, everyone in the city knows there are two people they can't cross.

The first is me, Sophia Black. They say I'm ruthless in business. Invincible. That I have only one weakness.

That weakness is Vincent.

And the second person? Don Vincent White himself. The youngest, most ambitious, most dangerous Don in the city.

I understood my grandfather's confusion. Even I hadn't seen this coming. Vincent's three-year mission. All a lie.

I didn't say a word about what I'd heard. But my grandfather must have sensed something. He was quiet for a long moment, then spoke softly.

"If you've truly made up your mind, your grandfather will support you. Come home. I promise you, your future will not be filled with sorrow."

"I'll send a car for you the day after tomorrow. Take care of whatever you need to handle first."

The line went dead. I still held the phone to my ear, frozen.

The conversation I'd overheard kept playing in my head. Vincent and his underboss, Marco Blue.

"You're really going to marry Miss Black? What about Vivian and the boy? Luca is over two years old now. He's your own son. This won't stay hidden forever."

"Back when Vivian was pregnant, you made up every excuse to delay the wedding. But if Miss Black ever finds out—"

Vincent's sharp glare cut Marco off.

"Sophia must never know. My wife will only ever be Sophia. Tell Vivian to watch her mouth and keep that child in line."

Luca. Two years old. His child.

While I spent three years waiting for him to come back and marry me, he already had someone else. A child over two years old.

So what did that make me? The placeholder? The fool?

The thought drove a thousand needles into my heart. The pain spread through my body. I couldn't breathe.

My knees gave way. I collapsed onto the cold floor.

I knew how hard Vincent had fought to earn his position. How many enemies he'd made. How many times he'd nearly died.

So during those three years, I never reached out first. I could only wait for him to contact me. Sometimes days. Sometimes weeks.

On the nights when I didn't hear from him, I couldn't sleep. I was terrified of getting news. And even more terrified of getting none.

So many nights spent crying into my pillow. The only thing that kept me going were the memories of our five years together.

Until finally, he finished his mission and came back to me.

Now, as I sat on the floor trying to breathe through the pain, Vincent walked into the bedroom and found me.

"Sophia? The floor is cold. Why are you sitting down here? Are you feeling sick?"

His face was full of concern. His beautiful eyes reflected only me. Just like every other day.

Whether it was the five years before he left, or the month since he'd returned, Vincent had always been good to me. I didn't want to believe what I'd heard.

I quietly locked my phone screen and forced a smile.

"Maybe low blood sugar. I lost my balance for a second. It's nothing."

Vincent relaxed. He carefully helped me up from the floor.

"Let's go to Malibu tomorrow. I'll have Marco book the tickets. You've always loved the ocean, right? How about we take our wedding photos on the beach?"

He was so thoughtful. Always had been. But after what I'd just learned, the words tasted like poison.

"Not interested."

Vincent blinked. Then he gently touched my hand.

"What's wrong, Sophia? Why are you upset? Did something happen? We promised each other, remember? No matter what, we never lie to each other."

His words hit me like a slap.

I looked him straight in the eye.

"Vincent. Is there really nothing you're hiding from me?"

He paused. Then gave me a soft smile.

"What could I possibly hide from you?"

I swallowed the burning in my throat. Nodded.

"Good. Let's sleep, Vincent. I'm tired."

The next morning, we were both woken by knocking at the door.

Vincent opened it. Standing outside was a woman with red-rimmed eyes, holding a little boy around two or three years old.

"Vincent, the boy keeps asking for his father. He won't sleep through the night. I know you said not to come find you, but I didn't know what else to do..."

Vincent's face flickered with panic. He instinctively glanced back at me.

"Sophia, don't misunderstand. This is Vivian Gray, our family's medic. Her husband was my teammate, my brother. He died in the line of duty. I've been looking after her and the boy out of respect for him—"

Before I could answer, Vivian cut in, her voice trembling.

"Miss Black, I know you two are getting married. I didn't want to bother Vincent. But the boy is so young. He keeps crying for his father. I just couldn't—"

I interrupted her. Looked directly at Vincent.

"The boy needs a father, Vincent. Are you his father?"

Vincent shot Vivian a hard look before turning back to me.

"Of course not, Sophia. The boy is over two years old. How could I have a child that age? Luca's father died saving my life. I've been helping them out of gratitude. He calls me 'Dad' because he doesn't understand. It's all a misunderstanding."

I studied the boy's face. His eyes. His nose. The shape of his jaw.

Even at his age, the resemblance to Vincent was unmistakable.

My grandfather was sending a car for me tomorrow night. I didn't want any more trouble. I swallowed the pain twisting in my chest and nodded.

"I believe you. Go ahead and take care of them. I'm going back upstairs to rest."

I turned and walked up the stairs.

Vincent followed close behind.

The next morning, I found Vivian standing outside my bedroom door. Luca was holding her hand.

"Miss Black, please don't be upset with Vincent," she said softly. "He's only worried about the boy's health. Ever since Luca was in my belly, Vincent has taken on the responsibilities of a father. It's only natural that the boy depends on him."

"Luca is too young to understand that Vincent isn't really his father. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can take Luca and leave."

Vivian kept talking, her words sweet and poisonous. But my eyes were fixed on something else.

Around Luca's neck hung a necklace.

My breath caught in my throat. Tears fell before I could stop them—big, heavy drops soaking into the blanket.

I looked up at Vincent. When I spoke, my voice sounded foreign even to me. Raw. Broken.

"What is that boy wearing around his neck?"

When I was eighteen, Vincent was being hunted by his enemies. In the final confrontation, both he and his attacker fired at the same time.

I didn't think. My body moved faster than my mind. I threw myself in front of Vincent and took the bullet meant for him.

His enemy died on the spot. Vincent lived. The bullet that hit me stopped less than an inch from my heart.

When I woke up in the hospital, Vincent was kneeling by my bed. His eyes were swollen from crying. His voice shook.

"From this day forward, my life belongs to you, Sophia."

"I will never betray you. Not for as long as I live."

He had the bullet removed from my chest and made into a necklace. He held my hand and kissed the bullet like it was sacred.

"This necklace is my good luck charm," he said. "As long as I draw breath, I will wear it. I will never forget that my life is yours."

Maybe it was the way his red-rimmed eyes looked so sincere that day. Maybe it was the way he kissed the bullet like he meant every word.

All I know is that my heart turned to water.

And now that necklace—the one Vincent swore he would never take off as long as he lived—was hanging around a two-year-old boy's neck.

Vincent's lips parted, then closed. He couldn't seem to find the words. So he said nothing.

Vivian's eyes glinted with barely hidden triumph.

"Oh, this necklace? When I went into early labor, the doctors said Luca might not make it. Vincent was so worried about the boy that he gave him the necklace for protection. Luca has worn it since the day he was born."

"And you know what? It really worked. The boy has been healthy his whole—"

"Enough. Shut your mouth."

Vincent grabbed Vivian's arm and dragged her out of the room. Luca started crying. The sound faded down the hallway.

But I didn't care anymore. Vivian's words were still echoing in my head.

Vincent didn't come back. I don't know how long I lay there.

Then I heard a sound. A muffled noise that made my stomach turn.

I got out of bed and followed it.

The sound was coming from Vivian's room.

A man's voice, thick with barely controlled desire, speaking in a strained whisper.

"Not here. Sophia is still in the house. She'll hear."

A woman's voice, soft and dripping with honey.

"I locked the door. She won't hear a thing. Come on, Vincent. It's been so long. Don't you want me?"

What happened next was inevitable.

I stood in the hallway, watching through the gap in the door. The room was dim. The air was thick.

Then Vivian turned her head. Her eyes found mine.

She smiled.

And I understood everything.

The door wasn't locked. She had left it open on purpose.

She wanted me to see. She wanted me to know the truth.

I looked at her for a long moment. Then I reached out and quietly pulled the door closed.

The next morning, I went downstairs. The kitchen was empty except for Luca.

He was sitting at the table, holding his little bowl, spooning food into his mouth all by himself.

When he saw me, he smiled. His whole face lit up.

"Miss Sophia, you're awake! Do you want some porridge? Seafood porridge! It's really good—"

Then his face turned red. He couldn't breathe. He grabbed his throat and fell from his chair, choking.

I froze for only a second. Then I rushed toward him.

Adults make their own choices. A child is innocent. I couldn't just stand there and watch him suffer.

Then Vivian's scream shattered the silence.