Three years into my arranged marriage with the Valachi family heir, the one that got away came back.

He left me for Julia eight times.

The ninth time, he left me bleeding on the side of the road with a gunshot wound to go running to Julia, who’d called him because she felt a little dizzy.

"She needs me. You get that, right, Leona?"

This time, I didn't fight for him.

He didn't know about the bet I’d made with Julia. The ninth time he abandoned me, I would be the one to leave for good.

So on his birthday, I left a set of signed divorce papers on his desk and got on a plane.

After Isak's old flame, Julia, came back to town, she made a bet with me: he gets nine chances to choose between us in life-or-death situations. The one he abandons for the ninth time has to walk away.

I agreed.

The ninth time, a single phone call from Julia was all it took for Isak to leave me on the side of the road again.

"Drive! Go!"

Isak's voice was sharp, laced with a panic I'd never heard before. I clutched the gunshot wound in my stomach, blood seeping through my fingers, staining my white silk shirt.

"Isak, wait for me—"

Slam! The car door shut.

The engine roared to life, tires screeching as the black BMW tore off without me.

My husband had left me for another woman. Again. All because she claimed she felt dizzy at home—even though we had just survived a firefight, and I was bleeding out in an alley.

I leaned against the cold brick wall, my hand trembling as I pulled my phone from my pocket and called my assistant, Maria, to come get me.

The ninth time.

I thought back to the ridiculous bet Julia had proposed a year ago. "Nine choices, Leona. Let's see who Isak really picks. The loser walks."

The first time was at my mother's funeral. A rival family crashed the service and opened fire. Isak dove to shield Julia without a second thought.

The second time was at his succession ceremony. A bomb went off, and his first instinct was, again, to protect Julia.

The third, fourth, fifth time…

Every single time, he chose her.

And me? Leona Valachi. The family's Underboss. I called the shots for half the city, but for him, I played the fool and made excuses every single time.

"Maybe he just panicked."

"Maybe he thought I could handle myself."

"Maybe he knew Julia was the one who needed protection."

Bullshit maybes.

Footsteps echoed in the alley. Julia appeared at the entrance, her dress spotless, her hair perfect, and that triumphant smirk I hated so much plastered on her face.

"Well, look who it is. The great Leona Valachi, bleeding next to a dumpster," she said, strolling toward me. "That makes nine, Leona. Any last words?"

I looked up, meeting her gaze. "I lost."

I pulled a folded document from the inside of my suit jacket, one I’d had ready for a long time. "Divorce papers. I've already signed them. Take them."

Julia took the papers, her smile widening. She wasn't done twisting the knife. "You know, Isak just texted me. He said he's on his way and that I should wait for him. He's completely forgotten about you."

"That's enough," I said, closing my eyes. "You got what you wanted. Now go."

"So, when are you gonna make good on your word?"

"A month. I need time to get the Valachi family business in order."

Lying in a private hospital bed after the doctor removed the bullet, my mind drifted back against my will.

Three years ago, Isak was the one who proposed.

Back then, my family was a bit player, and my father planned to marry me off as soon as I graduated to secure some new advantage. The Valachi family was the biggest game in town; I never dreamed I’d marry into their world.

At the time, Isak had been chasing Julia. The whole city knew it. But for some reason, they never made it official, and she’d left Las Vegas.

When I asked Isak why he wanted to marry me, he took my hand gently and said, "I noticed you a long time ago. The way you fought back when you were bullied, how serious you were about your studies…"

I couldn't say no. Besides, I'd secretly had a crush on the cocky, handsome Isak for years.

During our three-year marriage, I gave everything to the Valachi family to prove I was worthy of him. I clawed my way up to the Underboss position, thinking that one day, he would finally see me. And for a while, it felt like he was.

But that all changed a year ago, the day Julia came back.

Meanwhile, in Julia’s lavish apartment…

Julia leaned into Isak’s arms, her eyes teary as she looked up at him. "Thank you for rushing over. It was nothing, really… but I hope Leona doesn't get the wrong idea."

Isak, who had been savoring her closeness, tensed at the mention of my name but quickly relaxed.

Leona was always so understanding. He’d just explain when he got back.

"Your health is what's important. Leona can handle herself. She'll understand."

Julia smiled, then pulled out the divorce papers I had given her.

"What's this?" Isak asked, glancing at the document.

"Something important that needs your signature," Julia said, deftly flipping the document to the signature page. "Leona said it's just some… power of attorney papers. For the port business."

"Power of attorney?" Isak frowned. "Why didn't she give it to me herself?"

"She's just been so busy lately," Julia purred, handing him a pen. "Just sign it. It's no big deal."

Without a second thought, Isak signed his name. He had no idea he'd just signed away his marriage.

Julia tucked the document away, a cunning smile on her lips. "Isak, darling, Leona and I have a big surprise for you. You'll find out in a month."

"What surprise?"

"Don't worry," she cooed. "You're going to love it."

When I got home, Isak was waiting on the sofa.

"Leona, baby, are you okay?" he said, rushing toward me, his face a mask of worry. "Let me see the wound."

He reached to lift the fresh shirt I’d changed into, but I took a step back.

"It's fine. The doctor took care of it."

"Don't be like that," he said, closing the distance. That familiar scent of his cologne filled my senses. "Let's go upstairs. Let me see."

His hand snaked up my chest, his lips pressing against my neck. It was his go-to move. Whenever he thought I was upset, he used his body to distract me.

It used to work every time.

But tonight, I just felt tired.

"Isak, the wound hurts," I said, gently pushing him away. "Not tonight."

He froze, a guilty look clouding his face. "Leona, I'm sorry. About tonight… I shouldn't have left you. I was in such a rush, my mind went blank…"

"It's fine," I said, my voice flat. "It was a normal reaction."

"No, it wasn't," he insisted, pulling me into a tight hug. "You're my wife. I'm supposed to protect you. Can you forgive me?"

I patted his back, my touch as impersonal as if I were comforting a stranger. "It's really fine, Isak. You're tired. Go get some rest."

He stayed quiet in my arms for a long moment. I knew he was waiting for me to say something more—something sweet, forgiving, loving.

I said nothing.

The next morning, Isak was up earlier than usual. When I came downstairs, he was already in the kitchen.

"Morning, darling," he said, smiling over his shoulder. "I made your favorite—bacon and eggs. And fresh-squeezed orange juice."

The table was set with an elaborate breakfast, using the fine china from our wedding.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," I said, walking straight to the door. "I've got business."

"Leona," he called, following me. "At least have some coffee. And you need to change your bandages…"

"Maria will handle it."

In the car, Isak sat in the passenger seat. He had insisted on coming with me, claiming he wanted to "be there for me."

As I reviewed my schedule, I saw him pull out a lighter to light a cigarette.

It wasn't the one I gave him.

The lighter I’d given him was a custom sterling silver piece, engraved with the Valachi family motto: "Honor Above All." It was our anniversary gift, a design I’d spent three months perfecting.

The one in his hand was a cheap, plastic Lucky Strike. Julia's brand.

"Where's your lighter?" I asked.

Isak's hand paused. "What lighter?"

"The one I gave you. The engraved one."

"Oh, that one," he said, looking out the window, avoiding my eyes. "I… I must have lost it. Probably at the mall the other day."

A lie.

I'd seen it in his bag yesterday.

"Which mall?" I pressed.

"Uh… the Fashion Show Mall. Maybe I left it in a fitting room," he said, his voice tense. "Leona, why the sudden question?"

"No reason," I said, looking at the cheap lighter in his hand, a bitter laugh bubbling in my chest. "Forget it. If it's gone, it's gone."

Isak turned to look at me, a flash of confusion in his eyes. He seemed to want to say something, but he stayed silent.

I leaned back and closed my eyes.

If it's gone, it's gone.

The lighter. The marriage. Him.

I was done.

In the Valachi family’s private club, cigar smoke hung heavy in the air. A dozen of the family's senior men sat around a long oak table, talking about next month’s shipments.

Someone spoke up. "You know, Isak was crazy about Julia back in the day. All of Vegas knew he chased her for three years."

"Three years and seven months, to be exact," Julia corrected, a glint in her eye.

A murmur went through the room.

"So why didn't you say yes?" a young mafioso asked. "Isak's a hell of a catch."

Julia swirled the whiskey in her glass, ignoring the question. Instead, she changed the subject. "No matter what, Isak has always cared about me most… Actually, it was my idea for him to propose to Leona."

What?

I had just arrived, and her words hit me as I stood in the doorway. My hand clenched into a fist.

"I told him Leona was sweet, pliable. Her family had no real power, so she'd do whatever he wanted. A perfect choice. And…"

She paused.

"And she wouldn't give him any trouble."

Laughter erupted.

I stood frozen outside the door, my heart twisting in my chest.

The conversation inside continued.

"Julia, tell us the craziest thing Isak ever did for you."

Julia’s voice was bright with excitement. "Craziest? There are too many." She started counting on her fingers. "He beat a guy to a pulp for looking at me the wrong way three years ago. And he used to wire me money from his own accounts for my 'investments.' Fifty thousand at a time, easy."

A cold rage washed over me.

"What else?" someone prodded.

"For the past year, he's flown to New York to see me every single week," Julia said smugly. "Thursday night flight, back to Vegas Sunday morning. He told Leona he was on business, but really…"

She didn't have to finish. Everyone laughed knowingly.

Every Thursday.

I thought about Isak's frequent "business trips." Always Thursday to Sunday. He said it was work. I never doubted him.

"But the best part," Julia went on, "is that he'd bring Leona back a gift every time to cover his tracks. All those expensive watches, necklaces, bracelets… they were all guilt offerings."

I thought of the drawer full of gifts that appeared out of nowhere. "I saw this and thought of you," he'd always say.

"He'd even…"

I'd heard enough. I pushed the door open and walked in.

The room fell silent. Julia slowly turned to me, a defiant smile spreading across her face, as if she knew I’d been there all along.

I scanned the faces around the table. For three years, I thought I'd earned their respect. Now, they were treating my marriage like a joke with her.

Just as the silence became unbearable, the door opened again.

Isak rushed in. He didn't see me with my back to the door and went straight to Julia.

"Julia, the private party's about to start. I came to get you…"

Then he saw me.

"Leona, what are you doing here?" he asked, forcing a smile. "I thought you were at the docks today."

I slowly turned to face the man I had loved for three years.

"Yeah," I said, my voice terrifyingly calm. "And I thought you had business to handle today."

I turned and walked out without a second glance.

The air in the hallway felt clearer, but the suffocating weight on my chest remained. Three years of marriage, a calculated lie from the very beginning.

"Leona, wait!"

Isak's dress shoes clicked on the polished floor behind me. I didn't slow down.

"Leona, let me explain…" He caught up, out of breath, reaching for my arm.

I flinched away from his touch.

"Explain what?" I said, stabbing the elevator button. "Your weekly trips to New York? Or the money you funneled out of our joint accounts?"

The color drained from Isak's face.

"I can explain. It's not what you think, I swear…"

The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside. Isak moved to follow, but Julia's voice echoed down the hall.

"Isak, don't waste your time on her," she called out, strolling toward us. "Tonight's party is going to be amazing. You don't want to miss it, do you?"

I looked at Isak, waiting.

He hesitated, his foot hovering over the threshold. He didn't get in.

"Leona, can we just talk about this tomorrow? I…"

I pressed the 'door close' button.

I sat in the driver's seat of my Maserati and lit a cigarette, watching the city lights blur. Neon signs flashed, cars streamed by, everyone heading somewhere. Only I had nowhere to go.

I started the engine, ready to head back to my own apartment—the one that didn't smell of Isak's cologne and false affection.

"Leona!"

Julia's voice came from outside my window.

I rolled it down and gave her an ice-cold stare.

"You heard what I said in there, didn't you?" she asked, leaning on the window frame. "Isak never loved you. It's always been me."

She laughed, a cruel, vicious sound. "Every time he slept with you, he was thinking of me! He told me so himself!"

I shoved the car door open, ready to drag that bitch out by her hair.

Just then, a horn blared.

A truck, out of control, was careening toward the sidewalk. The driver was drunk.

Julia was standing right in its path, oblivious.

Time seemed to slow.

I saw Isak burst out of the club doors.

"Julia!" he screamed.

The next second, he sprinted toward her, shoving her out of the way with all his strength. They both tumbled to safety.

I was still standing by my open car door.

The truck slammed into the Maserati. The force of the impact threw me backward. I felt my ribs crack as warm blood filled my mouth.

As I lay on the ground, the last thing I saw was Isak holding Julia tight, checking her for injuries, tears in his eyes, repeating, "Are you okay? Are you okay?"

No one looked at me.

Even in a moment of life and death, he still didn't choose me.

The wail of a siren grew closer as I faded into unconsciousness.