My father was critically ill.

I begged my fiancé to keep his post-wedding promise—to withdraw emergency funds from the medical trust fund he had sworn to protect me forever.

He refused.

The next day, he announced his engagement to Pera.

Overnight, I became the laughingstock of everyone.

In my deepest despair, my childhood friend Seamus—

The heir to a long-established Mafia family—

Knelt down in the park and proposed to me in front of everyone.

That night, he transferred a large sum of money to my account.

I said yes without hesitation and rushed to the hospital to pay for my father's treatment.

But he never woke up again.

The hospital said he had suffered "unexpected complications."

Everything after that—the lawyers, the funeral, all the arrangements—was handled by Seamus.

Under the Mafia family's protection, everything went smoothly, and my father was able to be quietly buried.

The wedding proceeded as planned.

Years later, I overheard a conversation between him and the doctor who treated my father.

“Seamus,” the doctor said in a low voice,

“You tampered with the organ allocation priority list. You delayed Shirley’s father’s transplant so that Pera’s father could receive an organ transplant in time. You falsified the urgency level. Do you know what will happen if this is exposed?”

“The list itself was legal,” Seamus replied after a pause.

“I just…adjusted the urgency level.”

“You committed medical fraud,” the doctor said sharply.

“You ruined his only chance to live. All for Pera. Don’t you regret it?”

“I don’t regret it,” Seamus answered without hesitation.

“I would do anything for her. Even my life, even the honor of the Mafia family.”

“Throughout our marriage, I’ve been trying to make up for everything I owed Shirley. That should be enough.” My vision blurred.

Only then did I finally understand—

The woman he truly loved was always Pera.

"If that's really the case," I thought numbly,"Then I should leave."

There was only a door between me and the study.

Seamus’s voice drifted out in a calm, measured tone, so deliberately restrained that the trace of regret beneath it felt rehearsed rather than sincere.

"She didn't choose me," he said.

"So the only thing I could do was make sure Pera's father lived. As long as Pera is happy, that's enough."

"As for Shirley..."He paused.

"I gave her a stable life. An identity as Donna, and a carefree life. It was my responsibility."

Sitting opposite him, Tom—his closest confidant—looked shocked.

"Pera has no idea what you did," Tom said in a low voice.

"You manipulated the federal organ transplant system."

“If anyone finds out, you're finished. Even if you're a Mafia boss, you can't escape federal prosecution. Is it really worth it for a woman?”

“Whether it's worth it or not isn't up to you,” Seamus replied coldly.“If she's happy, I'll do it again.”

“Don't mention Shirley's father,” he continued calmly.

“If my name is on the list, I won't hesitate.”

“It's all in the past,” he concluded.

“Pera is fine now. That's what matters most.”

“What about Shirley?” Tom asked softly.

“She loves you. And if one day she ever discovers that it was you who caused her father’s transplant to fail…”

The sentence dissolved into silence as Seamus struck a match and lit his cigarette, smoke coiling around his features while he let out a low, dry laugh that held no warmth at all.

“Then I'd give my life for her forgiveness.” The footsteps grew closer.

I stumbled back to my bedroom.

The scalding coffee burned my hands, but my body was ice-cold.

So, my father didn't die from a failed surgery.

He died because someone else took his place.

Years ago, Sam abandoned me, making me the laughingstock of everyone.

Seamus's proposal didn't save me.

Quite the opposite—It sealed my fate.

So it turned out that Seamus married me not out of love, but out of an instinctive need to protect Pella, a realization so pathetic that by the time the front door closed and Tom disappeared down the corridor, there was nothing left for me to feel but a hollow ache, and a moment later Seamus entered the room, carrying with him the faint, unmistakable scent of alcohol.

He cupped my face and gently kissed my forehead.

His eyes were tender and familiar.

"Why are you standing here?"

"Nothing," I said softly."I accidentally spilled some coffee."

"Let the butler handle it," he said softly."You don't need to do anything." "

Then he kissed the back of my hand.

As always, he was gentle and considerate—

Every gesture of his perfectly embodied the image of a mafia heir.

As if nothing had happened."

But in that instant, a chill ran down my spine.

A Mafia heir—Would actually betray his family's honor.

I had always thought his gentleness and thoughtfulness were expressions of love.

I thought his helping hand in rescuing me from despair was instinctive, an act of selflessness.

Now I understood completely—Everything he did was merely a cover for his true purpose:

To protect another woman.

I closed my eyes, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

I helped him to bed and tucked him in.

Perhaps because of the Mafia family's recent troubles, he quickly fell asleep.

I sat by the bed for a long time before getting up and going to his study.

The study door had a combination lock.

He had never told me the password, nor had he ever let me in, always saying it contained confidential Mafia family documents.

I had never questioned him, believing trust itself was enough, until doubt crept in and pushed me to try the password I had once guessed, only to have the door open and confirm a truth I had never wanted to face—

It was Pera’s birthday.

As I flipped through the contracts he had signed over the years, it became impossible to ignore that every single one revolved around Pera, and even though I had never set foot in the family business, I could still see it with brutal clarity—

He had given up staggering profits without hesitation, meticulously binding every enterprise the family owned to her interests, while I remained entirely outside that world.

Pera kept a close eye on the latest developments in the financial, artistic, and theatrical worlds.

Therefore, large sums of money were regularly transferred into her accounts.

When I opened the safe, I was stunned.

There were no business reports.No confidential documents.

Only photographs.

Every single one was a photograph of Pera.

The most recent one was taken two days ago.

Pera attending an event as Mrs. Sam.

Pera and Sam's wedding photo.

Sam's face was deliberately blacked out; only Pera was clearly visible in the photo.

Hundreds, even thousands, of photographs. No, thousands upon thousands.

Below the photos were purchase records—

He bought priceless antiques from museums,and then deliberately lost them to Pera at the casino.

The love of a Mafia heir is secretive, disciplined, and absolute.

But tragically—It was never for me.

Faced with such blatant fidelity,those moments I once mistook for love,vanished.

Each photograph pierced my heart like a needle.

I remembered the gifts he had given me over the years.

Now I understood—They were nothing but compensation.

Yet he told me they were all specially prepared for me.

I laughed inwardly and closed the safe.

It was time to leave.

I logged onto the city government website and submitted an application to cancel my legal status.

Three days later,the name Shirley would be completely erased from Italy.

Three days.

Enough to end this twisted marriage.

That night, I didn't sleep a wink.

At dawn, I went to wash up.

My phone kept vibrating—

Messages flooded in, confirming that I had deleted my account and closed it.

Just then, Seamus's questioning voice came from behind me.

"Shirley…what did you delete? Why are there so many messages?"

My heart skipped a beat.

I calmly took the phone from him, glanced at the notifications, and replied casually:

"Probably spam. I recently entered a prize draw."

I turned to the mirror, nonchalantly applying skincare products, and asked casually:

"Weren't you supposed to have a meeting with another Mafia family today?"

"Go ahead," I added softly."Don't be late, it's not good to keep them waiting."

He didn't press further.

"Thank you, darling," he said softly.“You’re such a loyal Donna.”

I smiled and said nothing as he spoke, and when he softly offered,

“As a reward, how about I prepare a surprise for you today?”

I agreed without hesitation, telling him I would be waiting, my voice calm enough to deceive even myself.

Shortly after he left at noon, the butler brought in lunch, carefully arranged down to the smallest detail, exactly the same as it had been every year, from the same restaurant he knew I liked;

Once, I had mistaken that kind of attentiveness for love, but now I understood that it was nothing more than a form of compensation—

One he could never truly repay—because if he had ever loved me, he would have sat down and eaten with me, even just once.

And yet, once upon a time, he had eaten food I didn’t like—food that Pera loved—believing he had hidden everything perfectly.

He believed I would never find out, believed I would remain silent, believed I would never disturb Pera’s life, his certainty so absolute it left no room for doubt.

Until that certainty curdled into something bitter enough that I calmly pushed the untouched lunch aside and threw it to the family dog.

This deception—lasted for years—finally ended.

Then I went to the auction house.

I sold everything he had ever given me.

Jewelry, luxury goods, bonds, stocks.

I got five million dollars from the sale.

That night, I attended a party at the Seamus family home.

As soon as I stepped into the hall, whispers filled the room.

"That must be Shirley—Seamus's wife. She's gorgeous."

"No wonder he cherishes her so much."

"Look at that necklace—a family heirloom. Never given to outsiders."

They didn't know—That necklace—was a fake.

The real necklace was given to Pera long ago.

I only found out last night.I loved him deeply.But he never loved me.

“I heard they’ve been together since childhood. Seamus dotes on his wife—the gifts he gives her are incredibly expensive, and he’s absolutely loyal to her. He’s never had another woman.”

The club was noisy, the music deafening, but all the whispers seemed to point to the same conclusion:I have a good husband.

I stood at the door and saw him immediately—Seamus.

“Is he good to you?” someone asked.

“Yes,” Pera answered casually, almost lazily.

“He just bought me a yacht a few days ago. It was a birthday present. Every year he gives me something; last year it was an estate.”

Seamus hesitated before answering.

His voice was hoarse and restrained, tinged with resentment.

“That’s good,” he said. “As long as you’re happy.”

Pera smiled faintly.

“What’s wrong with you lately? Buying me gifts every day?” Her tone was gentle, with a hint of reproach.

“You always lose money at my casino. Do you really think I didn’t notice?”

She paused, then added casually, “What would Shirley think if she knew?”

She’s always been like this—knowing something was wrong, yet accepting it without a second thought, and afterwards even finding the leisure to mock me behind my back, as if my pain were nothing more than an aftertaste.

Years ago, when Sam publicly called off our engagement, it was Pera who rushed to the hospital under the guise of concern to tell my father, and he fainted on the spot.

Afterwards, she insisted it hadn’t been intentional, her innocence so carefully rehearsed that it appeared flawless.

That day, Pera and I argued until our voices were hoarse, but when Sam finally arrived, he didn’t ask a single question or offer a single word—he simply walked past me and stood beside her.

He blamed me. Pera said she didn’t mean it, that my father was unwell at the time.

That day, I cut off all contact with Sam and Pera.

Seamus had once become my only safe haven, my only salvation, and it was only now that I finally understood how wrong I had been—he was never my savior at all, but the one who had truly killed my father.

Just then, the door was pushed open so abruptly it nearly struck me, and Seamus froze as a flicker of shock crossed his eyes.

He demanded what I was doing there, and I replied calmly that I had only wanted to talk, that he seemed busy, and that we could speak later.

He pulled me into the bathroom and rushed through his explanation, claiming he was only discussing work with her and reminding me that he knew I didn’t like her.

I cut him off softly, telling him it was alright, that we would talk once he was done, and that I would wait for him at home.

A look of relief crossed his face.

He even instructed the butler to personally escort me home.

As soon as I stepped out of the club, the noise inside grew louder, some voices openly mocking.

I ignored them and walked straight out.

After the wedding, Seamus told me he didn’t want me to work.

He wanted me to be carefree and happy.I believed him.

So I never set foot in his world again.

And then there's Pella—

Now she's a powerful female CEO, running companies across multiple industries.

Just like today.

We're worlds apart.In ability.In power.I can no longer match her.

Seamus, this is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?

Back home, I made all the necessary preparations to disappear.

All that was left was to execute the plan that night.

And then—Pella appeared.

Her face was filled with undisguised mockery.

“Shirley,” she said lazily, “you’ll never compare to me. Neither in family nor in love.”

“So—now you understand?”

“Your husband married you for me. Not because of love.”

“Your ex-fiancé didn’t love you. Your husband doesn’t love you either.”

“You’re a loser, aren’t you?”

“Three years ago, I stole your fiancé.

“Now, I’m going to steal your husband.”

I didn’t answer.

I was leaving anyway.

Nothing she said could stir a ripple in my heart.

Seeing my indifference, she intensified—hitting my weak spot.

“You’re a coward,” she sneered.

“Your father gave way to my father on the road and died because of it, and you’re not even angry? It’s pathetic.”

She knew everything.

My anger finally erupted.

I grabbed my bag and threw it at her.

I didn’t even use much force.

She staggered backward—and then fell straight into the flower bed next to the trash can.