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.

Adrianna’s POV

Bianca’s brows lifted slightly, and she let out a soft laugh. “Marco, didn’t you say Adrianna was injured? She’s probably still recovering… maybe she’s not feeling well.”

I narrowed my eyes. How dare Bianca even bring that up—after everything she had done?

She turned to me, her voice gentle, perfectly composed. “Adrianna, don’t be impulsive. You’ve been with Marco all these years while he worked so hard—you’re a very important friend to him. You can’t just leave like this.”

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me go,” I said lightly, meeting her gaze.

Marco stepped to her side, smoothly shifting into his role. “Be polite, I won’t tolerate this attitude toward my fiancee.”

He turned to her, softening. “Ignore her. She’s always been like this—quitting is just her way of provoking me. And now you speak up for her, and she’s acting bitter.”

His gaze shifted back to me, sharp. “Don’t mistake this—I’m not stopping you from quitting because you matter. I pitied you, that’s all. Without me, do you think an orphan like you would have any of this? You’d still be struggling just to pay off your student loans.”

Each word landed harder than the last.

“So stop the act,” he finished. “Clean your office and get back to your job. I still need you to draft a contract for Mr. Robinson next week.”

Orphan, this word again.

Heat rushed through my body, sharp and burning.

He could have Bianca. A man who could be taken was never worth keeping. But standing here—forced to swallow my pride while he tore me down in front of her again…

For a second, I didn’t even know which version of Marco was real. The one in front of me… or the one who once held my hand and promised me everything.

“I’m leaving. Even if I end up starving on the streets, it won’t be your concern anymore.” I turned and walked out.

Marco’s words followed me.

“I pitied you.”

“Without me, what would an orphan like you have?”

My ears rang.

Just as I reached the lobby, a pair of cold hands suddenly grabbed my arm.

I spun around. Bianca. I shook her off and stepped back.

She smiled, then raised her voice just enough for everyone to hear.

“I understand you’re upset Marco’s attention isn’t on you anymore, Adrianna. But now that I’m here, I’m his fiancée—his future wife." She tilted her head slightly. “As women, we should know when to step back from someone else’s relationship… right? You wouldn’t want to be called a home-wrecker.”

A home-wrecker? How dare she!

She leaned in closer, her smile never fading. “So stop clinging to him. All this drama won’t get his attention.”

Then she stepped back, graceful as ever. “I know you want to stay at the casino—but from now on, make sure you remember your place. Alright?”

Eyes turned toward me from every direction, sharp, curious, mostly judging.

I could already hear the whispers— The orphan who dared to reach above her place.

And Bianca… Playing the generous, perfect woman—so kind, so forgiving—willing to tolerate someone like me by her fiancé’s side.

“Bianca,” I said, irritation slipping into my voice, “even a twelve-year-old knows not to judge what they don’t understand. And yet here you are, telling me to step away from Marco? I was never the one crossing the line.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Her hand reached for mine again—this time gripping hard, her nails digging into my skin. “I’m just giving you advice as a friend.”

I tried to pull away—

“What are you doing?!” Marco’s voice cut through the air.

In the next second, Bianca let go and stumbled back, collapsing onto the floor as if she’d been pushed.

Gasps rippled around us.

“Bianca!” Marco rushed to her, dropping beside her and pulling her into his arms, one hand cradling her head, holding her close.

Then he looked up at me. “First you make a scene in your office, now you’re pushing her? What’s wrong with you?”

Bianca trembled against him, her voice soft, fragile. “Why, Adrianna? I only asked you not to quit… why would you do that?”

Then she gasped suddenly. “My ring… it’s gone. It must have fallen.”

Marco’s eyes snapped back to me. He signaled, and two guards stepped forward immediately. “Make her find it,” he said flatly. “No one helps her. She finds it herself.”

Before I could react, hands grabbed my arms. One of them shoved me down hard.

I struggled for a second— But it didn’t matter.

My knees hit the marble floor with a sharp crack.

The sound echoed.

Marco didn’t even blink. He was busy helping Bianca to her feet. “Don’t think about getting up until you find the ring,” Marco pressed. “And when you do, give it back to Bianca. Then apologize.”

For a split second, Bianca’s lips curved—sharp, satisfied. Then it was gone, replaced by that soft, fragile look as she leaned into him. “Marco…”

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, guiding her to a seat. “She’ll find it.”

I tried to stand.

A heavy hand slammed down on my back, forcing me down again. “Is this really what you want?” I asked quietly.

I had endured worse. I grew up in an orphanage. But I never thought Marco would go this far—just to prove something to her.

“You heard me,” he replied. “Actions have consequences. You hurt Bianca, now you make up for it.”

“Yes… actions has consequences.”

A diamond that big wouldn’t just disappear.

After a while, I caught a flicker of light near the leg of a chair. I reached out and picked it up.

The diamond gleamed, bright and blinding.

For a second, I just stared at it.

This ring, the same one I had found in the closet, the one that made me believe… made me imagine what it would feel like on my finger.

My gaze dropped to its size.

Too small. It had never been meant for me. I had just been too happy to notice.

“I found it.” My voice didn’t shake.

Something flickered in Marco’s expression—gone too fast for anyone else to notice.

But Bianca noticed. Her fingers tightened around his arm. “Marco…” she whispered, soft and fragile.

Marco gestured. One guard took the ring from my hand, another reached to help me up.

I ignored him and stood on my own.

My knees were numb. I hadn’t even realized how long I’d been on the floor.

“Now come here and apologize to Bianca,” Marco said.

“I won’t.” I stood straighter.

Bianca tugged lightly at his arm. “Marco, she pushed me… If my father finds out someone can bully me in your casino and walk away without punishment…”

Silence fell between us.

Marco and I just looked at each other.

Then—“She’s all yours,” he said quietly, not breaking eye contact with me. “If she won’t apologize, then she’ll take the punishment. That’s only fair.”