One immigration application ended my marriage—

and erased me from my husband’s world forever.

I was Arabella Ashford—

the wife of the man everyone wanted to marry.

An Italian mafia heir—Born into power, wealth, and fear.

A bloodline successor watched by international law enforcement,

forbidden to cross borders, permanently barred from U.S. territory.

They said he adored me—

built me a private estate so I’d never hear the city,

sent me flowers for no reason, just to make me smile,

remembered every little thing I liked, every habit and quirk,

No one saw the truth.

And while the world called him perfect—

he was putting another woman in my place,

and another life in her womb.

So I made my choice.

I filed for permanent residency overseas.

With that one signature, I erased myself from his world.

From that moment on, he would never find me again.

This was the price of his betrayal.

He didn’t realize I was losing him that day.

When he discovered the woman he betrayed was already beyond his reach.

That was when he lost everything.

He gave up his position.

Walked away from his inheritance.

Turned his back on a throne men would kill for—

all to cross an ocean he was never allowed to enter.

Ashford POV

I could hear the whispers around me, soft and curious.

The immigration officers murmured about my marriage, about him—the man who supposedly adored me.

They couldn’t understand why I would walk away from someone who loved me so fiercely.

I tugged at the corner of my lips, letting a hint of mockery curl there.

Back in college, everyone envied the way Dominic Conti loved me.

Back then, I was the golden girl of my school’s shooting team.

And Dominic Conti was the future heir of a powerful mafia family.

People said he was distant and restrained.

Cold, disciplined, untouched by desire.

His private life was famously clean—

no scandals, no women, no one allowed within arm’s reach.

Until that networking gala.

That was when he met me.

He fell in love at first sight.

From then on, he pursued me obsessively.

Jewelry came without price tags.

Fireworks lit the sky for three nights straight, announcing his love to the world.

Once, I joked about craving the chocolate croissants from a bakery across town,and he didn’t hesitate—he drove through a storm just to hand me a warm box.

His coat drenched, his hands trembling from the cold, but his eyes only on me.

But the day I truly decided to accept him—

was the day my parents died.

He was away on business, far from the city.

Yet he abandoned everything and rushed back without hesitation.

When he reached me, he was disheveled, exhausted, his eyes bloodshot.

He pulled me into his arms and whispered hoarsely,

“Arabella, don’t cry.

You still have me. I’ll stay by your side forever.”

I looked into his eyes.

My heart skipped.

It’s him, I told myself.

He’s the one.

And yet—

five months ago, this same man couldn’t resist temptation.

He slept with Ava Ashford—

the cousin who had come from the countryside, relying on me to help her find work.

On the sofa of the house he built for me.

In the kitchen.

On our marital bed.

Their traces were everywhere.

Because of Dominic’s family background and the world he belonged to,

there were strict restrictions.

No one in his family was allowed to leave the country.

Including Dominic Conti.

As long as I left—

he would never be able to find me.

I packed away the immigration documents and headed home.

On the way, my phone buzzed.

An Instagram story from Ava Ashford.

A man’s side profile pressed against an ultrasound image.

Happiness is having a baby with the man you love.

I recognized that profile instantly.

It was Dominic Conti.

I knew he had cheated.

I just didn’t know she was already pregnant.

A wave of bitter desolation washed over me.

When I pushed the door open, Dominic suddenly appeared from behind it.

He slipped a necklace around my neck, his voice so gentle it almost drowned me.

“Happy anniversary of the day we first met, Arabella.

I prepared a candlelight dinner. Everything was flown in from Europe.”

I forced a faint smile and shook my head.

“I’m not eating. I… don’t feel well.”

Being with him now—

every second felt like torture.

The moment he heard I wasn’t feeling well, he panicked.

He called several private doctors.

When nothing showed up, he still wasn’t reassured.

He sent his people out to buy supplements,

warmed milk with his own hands,

and coaxed me into sleep.

After hours of this, I finally drifted off.

Late at night, thirst woke me.

I was about to get some water—

when I opened my eyes and froze.

In the hallway, Dominic was being held by Ava.

Her voice was thick with jealousy.

“That necklace you gave her today was insanely expensive.

I begged you for so long, and you never gave it to me.”

She pouted.

“I’m unhappy.

And when I’m unhappy, the baby is unhappy too.”

Dominic frowned and shoved her away.

“Have you forgotten your place?” he snapped.

“I told you—I only love Arabella.”

“If you want to keep this going,” he warned,

“it stays hidden. If she finds out, you know the consequences.”

“Keep your distance from me in this house.”

Ava’s face went pale.

She grabbed his hand, eyes red.

“I know you love her. But I love you too.

I’m pregnant. My hormones are unstable. I just want you to care a little more.”

Dominic said nothing.

He took out another necklace—

the same design as mine, just a different color.

“Stop acting wronged,” he said flatly.

“I bought one for you too. But you wear it in private.”

“If she ever finds out, this ends immediately.”

Ava’s face lit up as she took it eagerly.

“Thank you! I knew you still cared.”

She laughed softly. “Are you really that afraid she’ll leave?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Yes,” he said.

“I can’t live without her. If she leaves, I’ll go crazy.”

He turned and walked back into the bedroom.

I closed my eyes at once, pretending to be asleep.

In the darkness, tears slid silently down my face.

Dominic Conti—

three days from now,

I’ll be waiting for you to go crazy.

I woke up that morning to shouting.

Half-asleep, I pushed the window open.

In the middle of the family compound—a place reserved for people connected to Dominic’s organization—a woman was clutching a man’s coat, her face twisted with rage and heartbreak.

“I’ve given your family more than ten years of my life!” she screamed.

“You swore you’d love me forever, and now you’re sleeping with some cheap mistress behind my back?”

The neighbors froze for a second, then erupted into whispers and judgment.

The man’s face darkened. He grabbed her arm roughly.

“Are you done humiliating me? Get inside. Now.”

I stood there, stunned.

A warm hand suddenly covered my ears from behind.

“Arabella,” Dominic said softly, his voice close. “Don’t listen to that filth.”

I didn’t turn around.

“Tell me,” I asked quietly, “do all men change?”

His body stiffened.

He turned me to face him, his dark eyes unwavering—too steady, too sure.

“I don’t know about other men,” he said. “But I do know this—I won’t betray you. I can’t.”

“Only me?” I smiled faintly. “A lifetime is very long.”

“A lifetime is long,” he said. “That’s why I’m willing to stake everything on it.”

I laughed softly—but even to my own ears, it sounded bitter.

“And if you do betray me?”

His jaw tightened.

“Then let the Conti name end with me,” he said.

“Let my seat be stripped, my inheritance revoked, my authority burned to ash.”

I froze.

“In this city, in my family, I swear it,” he continued. “If I ever choose another woman, let me lose my position, my power—everything I was born to be. Let me live as a man without a name.”

The weight of his words pressed into my chest.

I looked at him, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Dominic Conti… aren’t you afraid? For a man like you—losing all of that—wouldn’t it be worse than death?”

He chuckled softly.

“Arabella… I don’t fear losing anything. Because I will never betray you. I’ll never let anyone else touch what’s mine, and what’s mine is you. That’s how sure I am. Nothing—no one—can take you from me.”

“Nothing… can take me?”

I forced a bitter smile, the question burning on my lips.

“Dominic… why promise me eternity… while putting a child in another woman?”

“And… what are you two up to?”

A sweet, teasing voice broke the moment.

Ava stood at the doorway.

I felt Dominic tense instantly.

He frowned.

“Why are you dressed like that? Where are you going?”

That tone wasn’t concern.

It sounded like jealousy—like a husband questioning his wife.

Ava smiled shyly.

“There’s a social mixer tonight. I thought I’d go meet someone. I won’t be back.”

Dominic’s face changed immediately.

Her smile widened.

“Oh, right—what about you two? Any plans today?”

He snapped back to himself and took my hand.

“It’s our third wedding anniversary. I’m taking Arabella out.”

She nodded and left.

Thirty minutes later, Dominic picked up the sapphire rings he had ordered months ago, then drove me to a private restaurant owned by his family.

Candlelight.

Imported ingredients.

Fireworks outside the window forming glowing words in the sky:

Arabella, I love you.

Happy 3rd Anniversary.

Once, this would’ve made me cry from happiness.

Now, all I felt was mockery.

People say when a man loves you, he proves it with effort.

Dominic never forgot a single date.

He spared no expense.

He made grand gestures that made every woman envy me.

I thought that was love.

Now I understood—it was performance.

A carefully crafted illusion, meant to convince me his loyalty was real…

so I’d never question the betrayal underneath.

The fireworks exploded across social media.

I want a man like Dominic Conti.

Where do men like this even exist?

Halfway through dinner, Dominic was about to speak when one of his men approached and whispered something in his ear.

His expression changed instantly.

I caught fragments.

Ava.

Suicide attempt.

Collapsed.

He stood up abruptly.

“I’m sorry, Arabella. I need to handle something urgent. Eat slowly. I’ll come back for you.”

He didn’t wait for my answer.

He didn’t even take his coat.

I watched the fireworks continue to bloom outside—still spelling his love.

But I knew he wasn’t coming back.

He never did.

Near dawn, I took a taxi home.

I saw him at the door, about to leave.

He froze when he saw me, then pulled me into his arms, apologetic and gentle.

“I’m sorry. I was just coming to get you. Did you wait long?”

He pulled me into a tight embrace.

“I’ve made it clear to everyone—no matter what, nothing and no one is allowed to interrupt our time together again.”

I felt a little suffocated in his arms, and pushed him gently away, forcing a smile.

“It’s fine. Work comes first.”

After all—

There was no future left for us anyway.

I pushed the door open—and stopped.

Ava Ashford was sitting on the couch in silk pajamas, snacks spread casually across the coffee table, like she belonged there.

I paused on purpose.

“Didn’t you say you had a mixer tonight?” I asked lightly. “That you wouldn’t be coming home?”

She looked up, lips curving into a shy smile that made my stomach tighten.

“Oh—right,” she said softly. “I forgot to tell you. I actually had a fight with my boyfriend. I went to the party just to make him jealous.”

She laughed, almost embarrassed.

“When I told him, he didn’t seem to care at all. But the moment I arrived, he showed up and dragged me away.”

As she spoke, she casually tugged at her collar.

A kiss mark bloomed against her skin.

My nails dug deep into my palm.

Pain spread, sharp and unforgiving.

“When did you get a boyfriend?” I asked quietly. “Why didn’t I know?”

She tilted her head, unbothered.

“About five months ago.”

Five months.

She had moved into this house five months ago.

So from the very first day she walked through that door—

he had already been hers.

My breathing turned uneven. I was about to speak—

A hand landed gently on my shoulder.

Dominic.

“Arabella,” he said softly, as if nothing was wrong. “You’ve had a long day. I’ll run you a bath. Go rest.”

And just like that, I was guided into the bathroom.

I had just begun to undress when I realized I’d forgotten clean clothes.

I opened the door—

And everything shattered.

Down the hall, Dominic had Ava by the chin, his grip possessive, dangerous.

“Try seeing another man again,” he warned coldly.

She smiled.

Her eyes flicked past him—

straight to me.

“Alright,” she said sweetly. “I won’t go anymore. I’m yours. Isn’t that enough?”

I shut the door.

The bathwater swallowed me, but it couldn’t drown the image burned into my mind.

When I came out, only Dominic remained.

On the table were cut fruit—and a steaming glass of milk.

He rushed toward me, all tenderness.

“You haven’t been sleeping well. Warm milk helps.”

I held the glass.

It didn’t warm me at all.

How could someone be this good at pretending?

Moments ago, he had claimed another woman like property—

and now he stood before me, playing the devoted husband.

That question kept me awake all night.

Sometime before dawn, Dominic suddenly jolted awake.

“Arabella!”

His hands searched wildly until he found me, pulling me into his arms like he was afraid I’d disappear.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

I stiffened.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice shook.

“I had a nightmare. You left. I couldn’t find you.”

I lowered my gaze.

I almost told him.

Tomorrow, I really would be gone.

Because of that dream, he insisted on taking me to work with him the next morning.

I refused.

He begged.

I didn’t want to waste energy arguing.

My flight was that night. It wouldn’t take long.

The moment I stepped into his office, I saw it—

Photos of me. Everywhere.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, nuzzling my neck.

“Too many women try to climb into my bed,” he murmured.

“Since I put these up, it’s been much quieter. Don’t worry, Donna. Your husband behaves.”

I said nothing.

When his men knocked to remind him of the meeting, he held me a moment longer before leaving me to wander.

I didn’t wander far.

Then I heard my name.

“Arabella?”

I turned.

Suise—an old colleague.

She smiled, then hesitated.

“I just transferred to Immigration. I heard you filed papers to leave the country. Is that true? Does Dominic know?”

I opened my mouth—

A voice behind me went sharp with panic.

“Leave the country?”

Dominic stood frozen.

“What do you mean—immigration?”

My heart skipped. I gestured toward Suise.

“She’s the one leaving,” I said calmly. “She wanted to treat me to dinner before she goes.”

Suise glanced at me in surprise, then quickly nodded, sensing it wasn’t her place to ask questions. She excused herself and left us alone.

The moment the door closed, Dominic pulled me into his arms. His breathing was uneven, his grip far tighter than usual.

“I thought it was you,” he whispered against my hair. “You scared me.”

I smiled faintly.

“It’s just immigration,” I said softly.

His heart was pounding—wild, unsteady beneath my palm.

“You know my family,” he said, his voice low and strained. “The Contis don’t leave. Bloodline rules.”

He swallowed.

“Anyone born into the name is bound to this city. No exceptions. No exits.”

Then he added, almost urgently, as if afraid I might misunderstand—

“Spouses can go. Wives can leave. But not us. Never us.”

He tightened his arms around me.

“If I’ve done anything wrong,” he said hoarsely, “you can hit me. Yell at me. Even kill me.”

His voice broke on the last word.

“But don’t leave. If you go abroad, I’ll never find you again. That would be worse than death.”

In his arms, I smiled gently.

“I understand.”

That afternoon, Dominic took me to a friend’s newly opened French restaurant.

The moment we walked in, everyone stood.

“Donna.”

“Donna Conti.”

“Please enjoy your meal. No one will disturb you.”

“We cleared the restaurant just for you.”

“Everything’s prepared exactly how you like it.”

His inner circle—men who had grown up with him, fought beside him—hovered close, respectful, familiar.

Dominic raised a brow.

“Since when did you all become this considerate?”

One of them laughed.

“The whole city knows the Donna is your heart. If we don’t treat her right, how are we supposed to stay in your good graces?”

Another chimed in, grinning.

“Ever since you got married, you forgot your brothers. We had no choice but to spoil the Donna with you.”

Laughter filled the room.

And then—

The door opened.

A petite figure stepped inside.

Ava Ashford.