Chapter 2

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.

Chapter 3

“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.

Chapter 4

I watched her stagger backward.

Before I could react, a heavy shove came from behind.

Pera was pulled into his arms.Seamus.

His eyes burned with anger and resentment. His former gentleness was gone.

“Shirley!”

His voice was furious.

“What are you doing? Why did you bully Pera?”

“She came to apologize to you, and this is how you treat her?”

His gaze was fixed on me—angry and condemning.

So that's it.

Everything she showed me before was just an act.

A cold smile curled at the corner of my lips.

“She mentioned my father,” I said softly.

“Seamus.”

“Those so-called misunderstandings.” I paused.“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

He frowned.

For a fleeting moment, fear flashed in his eyes.

“What explanation?” he demanded, his tone sharp, but it seemed more like a bluff.

“Your father didn’t get the donation because of bad luck,” he said quickly, as if reciting a prepared statement.

“He was behind Pera’s father on the transplant list. That’s federal law.”

“So it has nothing to do with Pera.”

Then, without hesitation, he delivered his verdict:

“Shirley. Apologize. Apologize now.”

Before I could respond, Pera had already gripped his shoulders tightly.

“I’m fine,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

“I understand. I understand Shirley.”

“She lost her father…I know she’s devastated.”

Her words sounded generous.

But her eyes betrayed a different story.

Those eyes were filled with a smug sense of victory and blatant defiance.

“Back then, Sam cruelly broke off them engagement,” she added calmly.

“Let me apologize to her today.”

“If she hates me that much,” Pera continued gently, “then let’s cut ties.I don’t want to put you in a difficult position.”

My nails dug deep into my palms until blood seeped out.

I watched them walk away.

Seamus hesitated, glanced back at me, and then said softly:

“Her husband has deep connections in the federal government.

We in the Mafia need political support, so we can’t lose hers.”

If I didn’t know the truth,I might have believed him.

But I already knew the truth, and in that moment I understood with a strange, crushing clarity that it was all over—completely and irrevocably so.

He didn’t come home that night, which didn’t surprise me in the least, because I had already seen Pera’s post on Instagram, praising how considerate Seamus was for staying by her side all night over nothing more than a slight cold.

Just a cold, and yet Seamus had mobilized half the resources of the Mafia and emptied an entire hospital room for her sake, and when I called him at dawn, it was Pera who answered, silent on the other end of the line.

But through the receiver, I heard Seamus instructing his secretary.

“Are you sure you want to change the contract?” the secretary asked cautiously.

“This will be a huge loss. You might even lose your heir status.”

“I know,” Seamus answered without hesitation.

“But it's to compensate Pella.”

“It's all Shirley's fault. She forced it.”

“Add another clause,” he said calmly. “Half of the family’s future profits—transfer to Pera.”

The secretary left without a word.

I stared at the silent screen for a second longer than I should have. I had planned to say goodbye, to make it sound final and civil—but suddenly, there was nothing left to say.

I ended the call.

At one in the morning, I went into the kitchen.

I turned on the gas.I lit the cupboards.I watched the flames slowly engulf the kitchen.

The living room.Everything.

Then I turned—and left without looking back.

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