In the fifth year of our long-distance relationship, I secretly quit my job without telling my boyfriend, Ian Gambino, and travelled more than a thousand kilometers to South Bordington.

I wanted to give him a surprise: to get registered and married to him.

He worked as a bodyguard for the biggest mafia Don in South Bordington. His job kept him extremely busy, and we were often out of contact.

The last time we spoke, he said he had to accompany his boss to an underground auction for security. The job would last three months.

Relying solely on the address that I remembered, I managed to find the place.

When the guards at the entrance heard that I was looking for Ian Gambino, their expressions turned a little strange.

"Don Ian is still busy. Please wait a moment," one of them said.

I froze.

Don Ian?

Before I could process what he meant, I heard him whispering to the person next to him, "So, she's the one that the Don keeps outside? How did she end up here? If Donna Jeanine finds out about this, she's going to cause a huge scene."

I was just about to explain to them that they had the wrong person when a woman in a custom-made evening gown walked in. The staff immediately fell silent and addressed her respectfully, "Donna Jeanine."

She was on the phone, her voice coquettishly sweet. "Honey, I'm here. You promised you'd come with me and the baby for the medical checkup this time!"

From the other end of the call came a deep male voice, filled with affection. "Darling, it'll be over soon. Go take a rest in the VIP lounge. Don't tire yourself out."

I had listened to that voice for five years.

It belonged to Ian Gambino.

Thud!

My canvas backpack fell to the ground.

When I bent down to pick it up, a doctor's appointment sheet landed right next to my feet. I took a glimpse.

The time of conception was three months ago.

At that time, Ian Gambino, my boyfriend, told me that he was out on a mission. He would often only reply to my messages once every few days. There was one time when we were on a video call that I saw scratches on his back when he turned around to change his top.

"I accidentally hurt myself while protecting the Don," he replied.

I saw a hint of panic in his gaze as he added, "Vivian, you've been with me for so many years. Have you ever seen me with anyone else?"

I trusted him. I even apologized to him, saying that I was just too sensitive.

I no longer needed to guess how he got those scratches anymore.

The woman accepted the appointment slip from me and thanked me.

Seeing me standing there, she asked, "Are you here to look for Ian as well?"

I nodded, feeling my throat close up. I could not find a single word.

"Let's head to the VIP lounge together. My husband's a workaholic. He takes a long time to finish up sometimes."

The word 'husband' was like a knife cutting my heart open.

In the lounge, she introduced herself to me.

She was Jeanine Santoro, the heiress of the Santoro family, and also officially the Donna of the Gambino family.

"My husband might have a sharp tongue, but he's got a soft heart. He always says that he's busy with the family business, but he would prefer to oversee all doctor's appointments with me."

Jeanine smiled and added, "He said he wanted to give me and the child the best."

I hugged my backpack tightly. My knuckles turned white.

I had been with Ian for five years. He said that he was a bodyguard, on call 24 hours a day. With the only remaining time we had left, we lived in a tiny rented place, eating cheap and fast food. He said that he was never really 'off-the-clock', so he could not give me the stability that I needed.

I trusted him.

I trusted all his troubles. I felt sorry for his situation. I had been keeping the relationship warm. I had waited for five years.

The sound of footsteps came through the door. A few men in black surrounding Ian entered together with him.

He had a satin box in his hands. I had never seen him with such regality.

One of his soldati lowered his head and said, "Donna Jeanine, Don Ian put in a bid for this sapphire necklace. He said that he wanted to give it to you."

Jeanine flung herself into Ian's arms. "Honey, I've been waiting a long time."

Ian hugged her around the waist and handed her the box. When he lowered his head, he accidentally noticed me.

His face stiffened, but it was only for a second before he immediately went back to normal. He said with an indifferent tone as if he were talking to a stranger, "Why are you here?"

Jeanine turned to look at him and asked, "Honey, who is she?"

His soldati immediately chimed in, "An old acquaintance."

Ian took a step forward, blocking me from her sight. "Just someone I got to know a long time ago. It's nothing important."

Then, he instructed his soldati, "Please escort this lady out."

I froze on the spot, watching the man in front of me pretending not to know me. The ache in my heart spread all over my body.

He said that once he found his footing, he was going to marry me. He told me to wait a while longer. He said that he only wanted me.

It turned out that it was not that he could not give me what I wanted. He just did not want to.

A soldato came forward to invite me to leave.

Ian did not look at me after that. With an arm around Jeanine's waist, he said, "Darling, let's go. The necklace suits your gown today."

When they walked past me, Jeanine turned back to look at me before saying, "Honey, I don't think it's nice to leave your friend here."

He kept his gaze away from me. "She's just an acquaintance I barely knew."

My tears instantly fell.

We were together for five years. Five years of long-distance relationship. I quit my job and travelled thousands of kilometers only for him to call me an acquaintance that he barely knew.

In my phone, I still had the message he sent to me three days ago.

[Vivian, wait for me just a little longer. Once I'm done, I'll take you away. I'll give you a home.]

I had given up everything based on his promise. I never expected that, right from the beginning, I was just the idiot in his entire scheme.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Ian.

[Vivian, just go with the bodyguards. Head to my private mansion in the suburbs and wait for me. Don't cause a scene.]

With trembling fingers, I sent a response.

[Why did you lie to me?]

He soon sent another message.

[Be good and wait for me there. I'll explain everything.]

I finally understood everything. Every time when I wanted to look for him, he would use being on dangerous missions as an excuse.

He was not afraid that I would get caught up in trouble. He was worried that a poor woman like him would embarrass him and ruin his marriage.

I looked up to see people nearby pointing at me, whispering to each other. Some even secretly took videos and photos of me.

I heard one of their insults.

"She looks harmless, but she's actually the mistress."

I choked up tears, explaining, "I'm not a mistress. He was the one who lied to me…"

What came was only more mockery and judgmental glares.

Two men in black escorted me into a black luxury car. Once the door was closed, my heart completely sank.

Lipsticks were scattered everywhere along with various fertility supplements, and there was a black lace thong, still marked with traces of intimacy, tucked into the seat crevice.

They brought me to Ian's secret private mansion. It was secluded and desolate.

Five years ago, I ventured into the wilderness deep in the mountains to collect research samples. There, I found Ian drenched in blood by a stream.

Using my medical and pharmacology knowledge, I treated his wounds and stayed by his side for an entire month in a makeshift shelter, day and night.

He told me he was a bodyguard for the Gambino family in South Bordington.

I had not revealed my true identity. Instead, I said that I was a simple girl from an ordinary family who came to the mountains to clear my mind.

Although he was badly injured and weak, he was extremely gentle with me.

At night, the mountain winds were bone-chilling, yet he pulled me close, shielding me with his fragile body.

I was afraid of the dark, so he stayed awake all night, holding my hand until dawn.

After his recovery, he insisted on following me back to the city, cramming into my tiny 20-square-meter apartment, and we began our relationship.

He never let me touch cold water. In the freezing winter, he did all the chores.

Late at night, I buried myself in research data, and he thought I was just working a simple part-time job. He would quietly stay close to me, warming milk for me, whispering softly for me not to tire myself.

When I had a mild fever, he would cancel all his so-called missions just to stay with me, watching over me the entire night.

He would hold me tightly in deserted alleyways, burying his face in my neck, his voice low and anxious.

"Vivian, I have nothing but you. Please don't leave me."

Back then, I had received an offer from a top international research institute, a dream opportunity that promised limitless prospects.

However, seeing his insecurity and anxiety gleaming in his eyes, I chose to stay in that small town.

I told Ian that I would be his safe harbor for him to return at any moment.

His eyes instantly reddened. He said, "Vivian, I will surely marry you."

Back then, his love was real. There was not a hint of pretense or insincerity.

However, in the end, he still chose family, status, and the socially perfect Jeanine Santoro.

The wind howled outside the window as I clutched the shattered fragments of my memories.

His love was real, but his choice was stronger than love.

I picked up my phone and made a call.

"I'm ready to join Professor Lindt's secret research team abroad."

The person on the other end of the line leaped with joy.

"Amazing! Ms. Walter, with you on board with us, our project will surely make breakthrough progress! We'll send a private plane to pick you up in five days"

"Vivian, who are you talking to?"

Ian's voice rang out from the entrance. He entered in a custom-made suit with a huge bouquet of roses on one hand and a gift box in the other.

When he saw me standing in the middle of the living room, he handed me the gift and flowers. "Vivian, who were you talking to on the phone? Are you leaving?"

I hung up and calmed down as I replied, "You misheard me. I was talking to the landlady."

Ian did not press further. He softened his tone and said, "Don't get mad. I know you've suffered."

I did not respond, merely looking at him icily.

He placed the bouquet down, then took a step forward and tried to touch my shoulder, but I dodged.

He paused for a while but did not get mad.

He explained, "I married Jeanine not because I had a change of heart, but because of the Santoro family's support. My position in my family isn't secure. Only through this union can I stabilize my position as the Don of the family and control everything."

Ian spoke as if I would immediately understand where he was coming from and forgive him.

He tried to reach out to hold my hand.

He promised, "Jeanine is just the family's arrangement. I will give you the best life. Jewelry, money, power. Anything you want, I'll give it to you. We're still the same as before. I only have you in my heart, and no one can take your place."

He had kept me like I was some pet that was too embarrassing to show others. He wanted me to continue to be his secret lover.

For five years, we had no material luxuries. In fact, most of the time, I was waiting for him to come back to my rented place.

What I wanted was an acknowledgment. An acknowledgment that I was his only lover. An acknowledgment of his promise to give me a home.

However, even until that point, he thought that he could keep me just with material gifts and empty promises.

My heart ached so much that I could not breathe.

Ian took my silence as a tacit agreement. He raised his hand and combed my hair with his fingers.

"Just stay here. I'll come and see you often. Don't try to cause any trouble or try to run away. I won't let you leave me."

He took my phone away and said, "I'll keep this for you. It's better to not let public comments affect you."

Then, he ordered the housekeepers to lock the door.

I was imprisoned.

For the next few days, the housekeepers kept a constant eye on me. They were respectful, but they never let me out of their sight.

On the third day, Jeanine came over. She sat on the couch as if she was the owner of the house.

"Vivian Walker, I've been searching for you for a long time."

"I don't know you," I replied.

Jeanine snickered condescendingly, "Is that so? Mistresses like you should always know a thing or two about the legitimate wife."

She sized me up as if I was some piece of trash.

Then, she showed me her phone. "Have a look at what your lover has been doing for the past few days."

The trending headlines were jarring to the eyes.

[Woman Breaks Into Auction, Suspected Gambino Family Mistress]

[Unknown Woman Ruins Rich Marriage As Mistress]

[Vivian Walker Exposed]

The footage of the auction had been maliciously edited, only showing me standing at the scene, flustered and confused, framed as a deliberately provocative intruder.

Photos from my part-time jobs, my family's old address, even information about deceased relatives… Everything had been dug up and exposed. The comment sections were filled with obscene insults and curses.

I grabbed my phone, typing frantically, trying to tell the world about five years of love, his lies, and our past.

However, every time I hit the 'send' button, the page immediately flagged my account as abnormal. It displayed a content violation, and my account was banned.

Jeanine looked at me in agony and smiled, saying, "Your presence at the auction has dragged the Santoro and Gambino families down. Their stocks have been plummeting, and the elders and shareholders have been pressuring Ian.

"Don't you see? This is his choice. Only by putting blame on you, the union between the two families will be stronger.

"Stop clinging to delusions. The heir to the Gambino family can only be the child in me. I'm the only one who is Ian Gambino's legitimate wife.

"I'll send a car to take you to the docks in two days. Ian won't find out about it. Think about it. Do you want to give up whatever is remaining of your cheap dignity to stay here, or leave? At least, your pride is intact if you leave."