In the seventh year of being in love with the Don, George Grimaldi, I said yes to his proposal.

Inside a top-tier luxury bridal boutique, I stood in front of the mirror wearing the first wedding gown of my life. I looked at myself again and again and couldn’t stop smiling. Behind me, he watched in silence for a long moment.

Then suddenly, he spoke, “Oh, right. We can’t get married for now. I’m married to someone else.”

For a second, I thought I had misheard him. However, my entire body went stiff. The color drained from my face.

“Josie is a benefactor of my family,” he explained casually, like he was talking about the weather. “My father insisted I register with her. But don’t worry. She won’t affect our relationship.”

My ears rang. It took me a long time before I could finally process his words.

“So you’ve been lying to me for seven years?”

He frowned, as if I were the unreasonable one. “I wasn’t lying. I just forgot to tell you. This is my fault. If you don’t mind, we can still hold the wedding as planned—the gown, the ring, the honeymoon. You’ll have everything you deserve.”

I lowered my gaze. My hand drifted down and rested gently against my lower abdomen. There was something else here, too—a secret I had planned to tell him today.

Those few sentences hit me like bricks. The pain was so sharp I almost couldn’t stay on my feet.

“But you’ve never mentioned it once in the seven years I’ve been with you…” I tried to steady myself, but my voice still trembled.

For seven years, he had cherished me and protected me. When he looked at me, it felt like I was the only woman in the world. I had never doubted him or imagined that behind all that devotion, there was another woman.

George Grimaldi let out a low laugh. “Because it wasn’t important.”

Then, he stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His possessive kiss fell against the side of my neck. Once, those kisses made all my fears disappear. Now, they felt like needles piercing my skin.

He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Bella, we don’t need a piece of paper to prove what we have.”

We didn’t need a piece of paper to prove what we have? Did I not need a name, a legal status, or a title? Was all I had to be his hidden mistress?

Two teardrops slid down my face before I could stop them. They fell straight onto the back of his hand.

I shoved him away and stumbled into the bathroom.

“Do you have to react this way?” he said as he followed me in, holding out a handkerchief. “Josie’s parents were shot and killed protecting my father, the old Don. They left her all alone. It was my father who insisted I marry her, for the sake of her future. I’ve settled her down in a place on the west side of the city, and I see her occasionally.”

I gripped the edge of the sink and forced myself upright. I stared at the man in the mirror. He was still unbelievably handsome and the man I had loved for seven years. Yet, he suddenly felt like a stranger.

“So every time you said you had family matters to handle on the west side…”

“Yes. I went to see her,” he admitted calmly. “Father likes her. From time to time, he asks me to bring her to family dinners. It’s just a meal.”

For seven years—more than two thousand days and nights, he’d had countless chances to tell me the truth. Yet, he chose to hide it.

A dull cramp twisted in my lower abdomen, and I bent over instinctively.

George frowned and reached out. “Is your stomach acting up again?”

I dodged him without thinking, and my lower back slammed hard against the marble counter.

“Don’t touch me.”

He froze. A flash of irritation flickered in his eyes. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and hung up. When it rang again, he hung up again.

The third time, he muttered, “What a hassle,” before he answered.

A woman’s voice came through the speaker, soft and dependent. “George, my head hurts so much. Can you come stay with me?”

He sighed. “Be good. Take your medicine. I’ll come in a few days.”

When he turned back to me, his tone softened slightly. “She tried to kill herself on the day of her parents’ funeral, and her health’s been poor ever since. I can’t just leave her be.”

I didn’t speak, but fragments of memory suddenly snapped into place. I remembered all those dinners he left halfway through, all those conversations he cut short, and even once, on our wedding anniversary. I always felt sorry for how busy he was, so I waited for him without complaint. However, as it turned out, those hours he wasn’t by my side, he was with his other “wife”.

I forced out a smile that looked worse than crying. My eyes burned.

“I want to meet her.”

His voice dropped, carrying a clear warning. “Why would you meet her? I told you, she’s just a burden. She won’t affect what we have.”

I tore off my veil and threw it onto the floor. The tiny diamonds were scattered everywhere, clinking against the ground like the sound of something shattering.

“George, do you really think it doesn’t affect anything? If I’m not your legal wife, I won’t be the first person to sign your surgical consent form. Even if we have a child, I can’t be listed as the mother on paper!” I wrapped my arms around myself, but I couldn’t stop shaking as I asked, “Then what am I? Tell me. What’s the difference between a mistress and me?”

George didn’t get angry. He bent down, picked up the veil, and calmly told someone outside to replace it with a more expensive one.

“No one is a mistress. I told you. You’ll have everything. I love you. I just want you by my side. You don’t need to feel guilty toward her. All you need is to be my most beautiful Donna.”

Another wave of pain hit me, this time fiercer than before. I lifted my face, and finally, the tears spilled over.

“Then what about her? Is she your Donna, too?”

He was silent for a long time. Then, he spoke, “I owe that much to her.”

If he owed that much to her, then what about those seven years of mine? Did he not owe that much to me as well?

A metallic taste rose in my throat. Suddenly, my phone rang. When I answered, my father’s weak but joyful voice came through the line.

“Sweetheart, I’ve sent out all the wedding invitations. I’m so happy that I can finally walk you down the aisle and hand you over to a reliable man.”

My father’s excitement pierced straight through my heart.

I swallowed back the sob rising in my throat. “Okay. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

After the call ended, George’s voice followed, calm and unhurried. “The wedding will be held at the best hotel in the city. The flowers are being flown in on a private jet. We hired the most famous photographer for the wedding photos. It will be the wedding you wished for.”

I dug my nails into my palm, forcing my voice to stay steady. “So you think that’s enough? Because you spent a lot of money, I should cooperate with this ridiculous wedding?”

“I’m not forcing you.” He slipped one hand into his pocket and looked at me the way he would in a business negotiation. “But you’ve been with me for seven years. Without me holding you, you can’t even fall asleep. Can you really leave me? And your father, a single dad… Think about how long he’s been waiting for this day.”

As if certain he had won, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Don’t throw away what we have over an irrelevant woman.”

My chest felt heavy. “Then why don’t you divorce that ‘irrelevant woman’ first?”

A flicker of impatience passed through his eyes.

“Once the wedding is held, everyone will know you’re my only wife. In the future, our child will be the Grimaldi family heir. She won’t appear in our social circle and get in your way. You two never have to meet for the rest of your lives. I’ve done everything I can to satisfy you. Don’t be greedy.”

Greedy? Wanting my future husband to belong only to me was considered greed?

I clenched my teeth and said, “George, get out.”

He blinked. “Baby–”

I tore the ring off my finger and hurled it at him with all my strength, interrupting him, “Get out!”

He didn’t dodge. The diamond cut across his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. He bent down, picked up the ring, and studied me with an unreadable expression.

“I know you’re just saying this out of anger. You’ll regret it later. I should’ve had a child with you sooner. Then, you wouldn’t be hung up on this. You would’ve chosen to stay by my side.”

A chill ran through my body, and my hand moved instinctively to my lower abdomen. In his eyes, even a child would only be a tool to tie me down.

I turned my face away as I couldn’t bear to look at him.

“I’ll give you some time to calm down. I’ll come back in a while,” he said.

When the door closed, I slid down against the wall and sat on the floor. The happiness I thought I could almost touch had turned out to be nothing but a bubble—one poke, and it burst.

My phone suddenly rang. It was a neighbor from my hometown.

I took a breath and tried to sound normal. “Mr. Benny?”

But his voice was cautious, probing.

“Bella, have you been very busy lately? Have you been checking on your father’s health?”

My heart clenched. He was right. For the past three months, all my energy had gone into wedding preparations.

He continued, “He fainted in the yard today, and we sent him to the hospital. The doctor says his condition is serious… Did you know that?”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“It’s late-stage cancer. Your dad didn’t want us to tell you. He doesn’t have much time left. He seemed more energetic after hearing about your wedding. He said his final wish is to walk you down the aisle… and hand you over to a man he trusts.”

The call ended because my tears kept falling onto the screen. I covered my face and cried silently for a long time until no more tears would come. Only then did I dial the number I knew by heart.

George answered almost immediately. “Baby, what is it?”

My expression was empty as I forced myself to speak, my voice hoarse. “Our wedding… will go on as planned.”

Early the next morning, I rushed straight to the hospital where my father was staying. When I pushed open the door to his room, my heart skipped a beat. His hospital gown hung loosely on his frame. He had clearly lost even more weight, and the sight of it made my heart ache.

My father, however, looked surprised to see me. He then gave a helpless smile, no doubt guessing that one of the neighbors had tipped me off about his condition. Before I could say anything, he turned his phone toward me. On the screen was my pre-wedding photo with George.

“You, my daughter, are so beautiful,” he said proudly. “On your wedding day, you’re going to be the most stunning bride ever.”

There was a lump in my throat, and I couldn’t say a single thing.

Suddenly, he asked, “By the way, did you tell George about the pregnancy?”

I pressed down the sting in my eyes and nodded gently. “I did. He was very happy.”

My father let out a relieved sigh. Then he started giving me careful instructions on what I should eat, how much I should rest, and not to wear high heels for long periods.

My vision began to blur. Afraid he would notice, I turned my face away and made an excuse about going to the restroom to fix my makeup. The woman in the mirror looked exhausted. Even the heavy foundation couldn’t hide it.

I wiped the dampness from the corners of my eyes and took a deep breath. For my father’s sake, I had to hold it together. I had to finish acting out this “happy” play.

…

Three days before the wedding, I told George, “I want to meet Josie.”

To my surprise, he agreed. Maybe in his mind, everything had been settled. So, even if I met her, nothing would change.

The driver took me to a villa compound on the west side of the city. From a distance, I could see elite soldati patrolling the grounds. The security was tighter than at some consulates. So this was how he treated a “burden”?

With every gate we passed, my heart sank a little lower.

When the car door opened, a maid called out cheerfully, “Donna, the Don is here!”

Her voice stopped abruptly when she saw that it was me stepping out of the car. However, I said nothing and simply took in the house around me. It was luxurious, warm, and meticulously maintained. Nothing was neglected. Nothing looked temporary or improvised. It was clear that George had treated her fairly in terms of material needs.

A slender figure slowly entered my line of sight. She was indeed beautiful. Josie Hill walked past me without a glance and wrapped her arms around George’s arm behind me.

“Don, you’ve finally come. I’ve missed you so much.”

He nodded. “The doctor said you haven’t been taking your medicine again.”

His tone sounded neutral, but there was a trace of concern hidden underneath.

“I wanted you to feed it to me…” Josie said shyly.

Only then did George turn to me and introduce, “This is Bella.”

That was it. He didn’t say I was his fiancée or bride-to-be—just a name.

Josie narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked me over, her tone light and pleasant. “Hi, I’m Josie. Come in, don’t be shy. Make yourself at home. What would you like to drink? There’s champagne in the fridge he just bought, or you can try the coffee I made. He said my skills have improved.”

She carried herself like the lady of the house.

I clenched my teeth, feeling my anger rise. To be honest, she didn’t look like the daughter of heroes who had once taken a bullet for someone. She looked delicate, fragile, and almost spoiled.

On the way here, George had told me he’d once tried to send her away overseas for the best medical care, for school, and even just for travel. However, she refused. She only wanted to stay in this vast, empty mansion, clinging to her illness, waiting for George to visit her whenever he could.

…

Before I could say anything, George had lifted her naturally into his arms and carried her toward the couch.

He instructed the maid, “Bring me the medicine the Donna had hidden.”

The maid immediately retrieved it with practiced ease and handed it to him. Josie wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to let go, and George simply continued holding her like that.

I stood there, frozen. I watched as he brought the pills to her lips, poured her a glass of water, and used his thumb to wipe away the moisture at the corner of her mouth.

She held the title of Donna, which should belong only to me, and was shown the tenderness that should only be meant for me. If I had held onto even the slightest illusion before coming here—an illusion that they were only bound by a piece of paper, forced by their families—it all shattered in that moment.

I didn’t want to hurt this girl, but I also didn’t want my child to enter this world branded as illegitimate.

At the thought that the wedding between George and me would be built entirely on lies, I couldn’t stay there for another second.

I stood up, announcing, “I should go.”