My secret boyfriend, Marco Ross—the fastest rising mafia star in New York—hid a ring in our home. I thought it was for me.

Instead, I received a video of him proposing to another woman—Bianco Conti —on our anniversary.

The same night, masked men broke in, held me at gunpoint, and forced me to call Marco.

A woman answered the call, “Marco, your little orphan is calling again.”

Then Marco’s cold tone. “Don’t bother, babe, she’s just your substitute, a stray I keep around, a free woman to warm my bed.”

The masked men shot me in the stomach—then fled.

What Marco didn’t know? The real Conti heiress… was me. The Bianco he cherished so much… was just an imposter.

I once refused to take the Conti name because of Marco, afraid it would ruin us. But if he never cared… why should I?

I made one call. “Papa, I’ll come home, take over the business, and accept the marriage alliance—but Bianca has to be go.”

Adrianna’s POV

I heard my secret mafia boyfriend, Marco Ross, call me a disposable substitute on our anniversary—as he proposed to another woman, Bianca, the so-called Conti heiress. That same day, he ignored my calls for help while masked men broke in and shot me, taking our unborn child with them. What no one knew? I was the real Conti heiress, and Bianca he chose was just a fraud. So I made one call—I’m going home to take everything back. As for Marco and Bianca… they can both go to hell.

My voice still trembled. “Papa, I’ll come home and take the Conti name like I should—but I want that fraud, Bianca, gone.”

I expected my biological father, Enzo Conti, the Don of the one and only Conti family, to refuse. After all, Bianca had been his daughter for nearly twenty-five years. It was only six months ago that he learned the truth—learned she wasn’t his, and found me instead, his real daughter.

But his voice came through, soft and steady. “I would’ve gotten rid of her even if you hadn’t asked. The reason I lost you all these years… was because of her mother. If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve killed them both already.”

Bianca’s mother had been one of the nurses caring for my mother in the hospital. She gave birth to Bianca a month before I was born. Maybe it was greed, or maybe it was calculation—she switched me with Bianca.

And after that? She didn’t even keep me. She dumped me in a rundown orphanage, probably hoping I’d die there—so the truth would stay buried forever.

“Anna,” Papa said gently, “you have my word. No one will ever hurt you again. No one will bully you, starve you, or take advantage of you. Whoever dares to upset you… I will make them disappear.”

If only he knew that I had just watched my boyfriend of six years cheat on me—with that same fake daughter…No, now wasn’t the right time to tell Papa everything.

He would destroy them for me—but I wanted to do it myself.

“Papa… about that marriage alliance. The one you arranged when I was a baby…I want to meet with him.”

“You have broke up with that boyfriend of yours?” Father asked.

He knew about Marco. I had already told Papa that he was the reason I hesitated to take the Conti name. Marco wasn’t born into power—and I was afraid that claiming mine would destroy what we had.

“I knew you have invested in his casino after I told you about him. You don’t have to do it anymore. I am over with him.”

Father went silent for a few seconds. “Alright, but about that marriage alliance…You don’t have to go through with it unless you truly want to.”

“I do,” I said quietly. “I trust your judgment. And I meant what I said—I want to help with the family business.”

There was a pause on the line, “Alright. But your birthday is in two weeks… how about we make your return public at your party? I’ll invite everyone, including Bianca. Then we can talk about meeting that man.”

I thought of Marco, of Bianca, of the look might appear on their faces when they realized that I was the real Conti heiress. “You read my mind, Papa.”

After the call ended, there was a knock on my door. “Miss, flower delivery.”

I frowned. No one knew I was in the hospital—so who would send me flowers?

I took them.

Roses, definitely not the kind someone send to a patient. And there was a card tucked inside. “How was that bullet? Stay away from my man. Next time, it goes through your head. XOXO, B.”

So the ambush wasn’t random.

Bianca sent them. To scare me? To force me to call Marco? It wasn’t a coincidence she picked up—she wanted me to hear his sickening confessions, to listen as he tore me down while lifting her up.

And if that wasn’t enough…

The pain came rushing back—sharp, suffocating.

The masked men. The gun. The timing.

They shot me in the stomach.

My hand drifted there instinctively. Just yesterday, there had been a baby. I hadn’t even known… until it was too late.

My grip on the bouquet tightened until the stems bit into my skin.

I picked up my phone and called Mary—the Conti’s family assistant.

“I’m at the hospital,” I said, my voice steady despite everything. “Masked men broke into my place and shot me.”

“Miss Conti—are you alright—”

“I need everything on Bianca. Every connection she has to this. And don’t tell Papa yet.”

Bianca could take men all she wanted. But hurting me? Killing my child? That was something else entirely.

She would pay for this, a hundred times more than I’d ever planned before.

My phone buzzed again.

Marco. “Sorry, babe. Missed your call and our anniversary dinner. Was in a meeting with a major mafia head. Come home and we’ll talk, okay?”

Business meeting? What a pathetic excuse.

Below Marco’s message was the anonymous text—the video of his proposal.

I hesitated, then opened it.

It played again.

Last night rushed back all at once. It was our anniversary. Ever since I found the ring in our closet, I had been waiting for this day, certain he would finally propose to me.

Instead, Marco was on one knee—for Bianca Conti, the infamous Conti heiress.

“I’ve waited for you all my life, Bianca,” his voice came through, clear and steady. “I never thought I could love someone this deeply. You asked me to wait seven years… I did. Now, will you marry me?”

Seven years. The words hit like a blade.

I hadn’t really heard them last night. Seeing him propose to someone else had already shattered everything. But now… now I heard it clearly.

Marco didn’t betray me. He just never loved me. He had been waiting for Bianca all along.

Then what were our seven years, Marco?

I realized that this question didn’t even need an answer. A bitter laugh slipped out as tears blurred my vision.

Marco’s exact words in that call, “Don’t bother, babe, she’s an orphan, lucky to be your substitute, a stray I keep around, a free woman to warm my bed.”

The pain in my abdomen throbbed, grounding me in reality.

I might have been an orphan once—but not anymore. And Marco had no idea the Bianca he fought so hard to win was the fake. If I used his own words… the stray was her, not me.

I didn’t stop the video. His voice kept replaying, filling the room.

In front of me, the Marco I once knew—the one who looked at me gently, held my hand, and promised I would never be alone—slowly blurred into the man kneeling before another woman, calling me nothing more than a pathetic, powerless orphan he kept to warm his bed.

All lies, Marco.

Everything between us was a lie.

Adrianna’s POV

I went back to the home Marco and I shared after I was discharged from the hospital. I needed time—to heal, to pack, and to gather every contract from his casino that I had helped secure.

People think growing up in an orphanage is the hardest part of my story. It wasn’t. I fought my way into business school, earned my degree in data analysis, and built everything I could from nothing.

And then I built Marco. From his early days running small drug deals, to managing a modest casino laundering money for lower-tier crews, to the empire he runs now—I was there. I won’t take all the credit, but at least sixty percent of what he is today… that was me.

Without me, Marco would still be hustling on the streets, not sitting at the table as the newest mafia head.

And without my father’s investment six months ago, his casino would have never even opened.

So as soon as I decided to leave Marco, I also decided to take everything I gave him with me.

Marco didn’t come home for another week.

Then today, just as I was clearing out my closet, I heard the front door open.

“Adrianna! I’m home!”

I stepped out.

Marco stood by the door, holding a large bouquet and a designer shopping bag.

“Babe, sorry I missed our anniversary dinner. Had to close a deal,” he said easily. “But look—I got you that necklace. Heard the girls at the casino talking about it, so I bought it for you.”

The same routine: Throw money at me, buy something expensive, smooth everything over.

Marco had done it so many times I’d lost count. And before… I believed him. I thought he was busy, not careless, that even when he missed our moments, I was still on his mind.

But now… after learning the truth about us, I realized it had all been nothing more than a performance.

He set the flowers and bag down, then walked toward me, reaching for a hug. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

I stepped back, avoiding him. “Nothing. My wound still hurts.”

Marco froze. “Wound? What wound?”

“Masked men broke into the house on our anniversary,” I said calmly. “I tried to call you, but you—”

His face drained of color. “I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t know… I—”

“No worries.” I turned away. I didn’t want to see him pretend anymore.

Just saying it out loud made everything come rushing back—the blood, the pain, the baby I lost.

I swallowed hard.

I hadn’t even decided whether to tell Marco or not. I thought, what was the point of telling him? He didn’t care about me. Why would he care about our child?

I picked up my phone. The gossip tab I’d been reading earlier lit up again—photos of Marco and Bianca in Hawaii, taken over the past few days.

Marco stepped closer behind me. He must have seen it. He reached over, frowned, and shut off my screen.

“Don’t listen to that nonsense,” he said. “There’s nothing between me and Bianca.”

“They said you proposed to her,” I replied lightly, watching him.

He didn’t even hesitate.

“No,” he said with a small laugh. “I was just trying to secure a deal with her father. The Conti—biggest mafia family in the country. If our casino gets their backing, no one would dare touch us. The money alone—people will be lining up to throw it at us.”

‘Our casino’, the words made my stomach turn.

Marco reached for my hand, catching it before I could pull away. “Anna, Bianca and I—we had a past, but it’s over. Then I met you. I love you. Can you believe me? Everything I’m doing is for us—for our casino. You’re the one I’ll build a family with. The rest doesn’t matter. Once her father signs the contract, I’ll end this with her. It’s nothing.”

I looked up, meeting his eyes. “What about me, Marco? What about us? If people found out, what would they think of our relationship? Have you ever considered how I feel? What does that make me—your mistress? A secret you’re ashamed of? Or are we already over?”

Six years couldn’t be erased overnight. I told myself I’d turn cold, that I’d stop caring—but a small part of me still hoped something between us had been real, that the man I loved wasn’t completely worthless.

But I already knew what I didn’t want to hear.

“Can you do this for me, Anna? Please.”

The same words. Every time.

When he hid me from the world—Can you do this for me?

When he shut me out of deals I built—Can you not do this for me?

And now, after everything… after the lies, the betrayal, the blood— Can you do this for me?

I said nothing.

Marco’s smile slowly faded. “Out of everyone, I thought you understood me the most.”

His voice softened, turning coaxing. “Nothing we have was given—it was earned. Every move matters. Just this once, Anna. After Bianca’s birthday, once the contract is signed, I’ll end it. It’ll just be business.”

Marco was right about one thing—every move mattered.

He just chose the wrong person to play this game with.

I stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, I nodded.

If this was what you wanted, Marco… I’d let you have it. Just don’t come back regretting it.

Marco’s face lit up instantly. “I knew you were the best.”

He finally let go of my hand, bent to pick up the shopping bag, and took out the necklace. Moving behind me, he fastened it gently around my neck.

“Happy our seventh anniversary, Adrianna Russo. To many more years.”

The metal felt cold against my skin, almost suffocating.

There would be no more years for us, Marco. And my name… was never Adrianna Russo. It was Adrianna Conti.

“Babe, I—” Marco’s phone rang. He answered without hesitation.

A woman’s voice came through, trembling. “Please… I’m scared. I need you. Right now.”

Marco’s tone softened instantly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

He hung up and turned to me. “It’s Bianca. She ran into trouble at a club. She didn’t know who else to call.”

I looked away.

“I have to go, babe. Don’t wait up.” He grabbed his jacket and rushed out.

I had been about to tell him to go. After all… I was supposed to understand, wasn’t I?

The door shut, and silence filled the room again.

I reached up, took off the necklace, and dropped it back into the bag.

Everything about Marco—his touch, his voice, even his presence—made me sick.

I turned and walked back to the closet. There was still so much to finish.

Adrianna’s POV

The birthday party was in three days now. Everything in the house was either packed or thrown away. I wasn’t worried about Marco finding out—he barely came home anymore.

I still had a few things left at the casino. I didn’t want to go back, but I went anyway.

The moment I walked in, something felt off. Staff were gathered in small groups, whispering.

I stepped closer. A girl I knew waved me over. “Adrianna! You’re finally back. Where have you been?”

“What’s going on?”

“The boss is back.”

Marco.

She nudged me. “Go to your office before he sees you slacking.”

To everyone here, I was just his assistant. Nothing more.

I shook my head. “I’m not worried about that. Actually… I won’t be working here anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “Then where are you going? The boss treats you pretty well. You’ve been with him longer than anyone.”

I smiled faintly. “I’m going home.”

“I thought you were—” She stopped herself.

Everyone knew my past. Marco made sure of that. The orphan he took in. The girl he “protected.”

“I found my real family not long ago. And now—”

“What family?”

I turned.

Marco stood a few steps away, his brows drawn together.

“Nothing,” I said lightly.

He started toward me—but then a pair of arms wrapped around his. “Babe, what are you talking about?”

Bianca.

I’d seen her face all over the tabloids, but this was the first time we stood in the same room.

Soft curls, sharp eyeliner, a dress that clung just enough to draw every eye.

I studied her quietly. And Bianca studied me back. She looked at me because she knew what I was to Marco.

I looked at her… Because I couldn’t wait to see that confidence shatter when she learned the truth.

“Who is this?” she asked, smiling at Marco, though her eyes were already on me—sharp, taunting.

“My assistant. Adrianna.” Marco didn’t disappoint.

His gaze flickered toward me, almost pleading—don’t make a scene, just accept it.

Bianca tugged lightly on his arm, pulling his attention back. “Won’t you introduce me to everyone?”

The way he looked at her… the softness in his expression.

I thought I had accepted it—that he never loved me. But seeing it like this still hurt.

“Bianca Conti,” he said smoothly, “my fiancée.”

Whispers broke out instantly.

“The Conti heiress?”

“Our boss is marrying into the Conti?”

“They look perfect together…”

Bianca met my eyes, then walked toward me. “Adrianna?” she said, smiling.

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard about you.” Her smile deepened, but there was no warmth in it—only something cold, sharp. “Now that I’ve met you… I have to admit, you’re not what I expected.”

Her gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate. “Too ordinary. The way Marco described you, I thought you’d be prettier.”

I said nothing.

“You don’t mind, do you? I’m very straightforward.” She tilted her head slightly, still smiling. “But really, it’s not a bad thing. At least now I know you’re not a threat. We can be friends… right?”

Friends.

I had underestimated just how arrogant Bianca was.

But the higher someone stands… the harder they fall.

So I smiled. “My pleasure.”

For a split second, something in her expression tightened—then she smirked and turned away, slipping her arm back through Marco’s.

He glanced at me once, then turned back to her, smiling like nothing else mattered.

“Is this a Cartier ring?” One staff asked

“Silly,” anther staff added lightly. “It’s worth a hundred times more than Cartier.”

“When’s the wedding, boss? Where are you holding it?”

The whispers around them never stopped.

And slowly, some of those whispers drifted toward me.

I caught the looks, the smirks and the fingers pointed in my direction.

“And you thought that orphan was the boss’s girlfriend?”

“I told you—she was never enough for him.”

Orphan. That word—I’d heard it so many times it almost felt like my name now.

I don’t know how I endured it before—letting them gossip, letting them praise him like he was some perfect man while I was nothing more than something he picked up out of pity.

I bit down hard, tasting blood.

Not now. If I broke now, it would be too easy for them, too easy for Marco.

I turned and walked away, letting their voices fading behind me.

…

I didn’t stop until I reached my office. It was smaller than I remembered.

I walked to the desk and picked up a page filled with my notes and plans.

How foolish I’d been—to think Marco was the one, to believe we were building something real.

I tore the paper in half. Then I swept everything off the desk, papers scattering across the floor.

I picked up the photo frame—Marco and me standing side by side, one of the few things he allowed me to keep, and threw it into the trash.

It hit hard, glass cracking. A few shards bounced out and scraped my leg.

It stung. But it was nothing compared to what I’d been through these past few days.

“What the hell happened in here?” Marco pushed the door open.

I didn’t stop—I kept tossing papers and files into the trash. “Just cleaning up,” I said, dropping another stack in.

He grabbed a file from the bin. “Why are you throwing this away? This is the contract for— If this is about Bianca being here, stop this right now. I already told you I have to—”

Before he could finish, I picked up the handmade mug he gave me when I said yes to help him with his business—and threw it in.

It hit with a dull crack.

Marco stared at it. He knew that mug. He knew I’d kept it for all these years.

And now, I’d thrown it away without a second thought.

His voice turned sharp. “Adrianna… the handmade mug I gave you.”

I couldn’t stand being in the same room with him anymore. Even the air felt suffocating.

I turned for the door. “Since you’re here, I might as well say it now—I quit.”

Marco’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back. “Adrianna!”

I tried to pull free, but his grip was too tight. I stopped struggling and looked straight at him. “What?”

“I told you everything already. What is all this supposed to mean? You—”

The door opened. Bianca stepped in.

The moment she appeared, Marco released my hand and took a step back.

“Marco, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just my assistant—”

“I quit,” I cut in.

“I won’t allow,” Marco snapped.