For five years, I was Carlos’s dirty little secret.

In the light of day, I was his executive assistant, handling his legitimate businesses while he treated me with cold, professional detachment.

In the shadows, I was the woman he claimed to love more than life itself, the one who warmed his bed while he whispered promises against my skin.

That was until I found out I was pregnant. I was ready to tell him, to finally ask for a life in the light.

But then, I discovered Carlos had purchased a secluded estate in the suburbs—a fortress meant for a wife.

I followed him there, heart in my throat, only to watch through the window as his hand slid beneath a woman’s silk lingerie, his eyes burning with a raw desire I thought belonged only to me.

"Sophie," he groaned, his voice rough with emotion. "I stayed unmarried all these years for one reason. I was waiting for you to come back to the States. Marry me."

The sounds of their pleasure echoed from the room. The shock was a physical blow; my body revolted, and the stress induced a miscarriage right there in the cold.

When I woke up in the hospital, empty and broken, I made a call I had been avoiding for years. I accepted the arranged marriage my family had set up for me—a political alliance with a rival syndicate.

The next morning,I would vanish from Carlos’s life forever.

Sophia’s POV

The abortion was successful. I didn’t feel much pain.

I just felt hollow, as if someone had carved the vital parts out of my soul.

Forcing myself to block out thoughts of Carlos, I took a cab back to the penthouse we shared in secret.

I had barely walked through the door when Carlos returned.

He had brought a box from an expensive Italian bakery to cheer me up, hand-feeding me a piece of cake.

The cloying sweetness hit my tongue, tasting like wax.

I hated sweets.

I had told him countless times, but he never remembered.

There were times I refused to eat it, and he would lose his temper, calling me ungrateful.

Now I understood. The woman who loved sweets, the woman Carlos actually loved, was someone else.

Acid rose in my throat. I pushed his hand away and dry-heaved violently.

A flash of impatience crossed Carlos’s eyes, gone in an instant, replaced by his usual mask of concern.

"What’s wrong? Sophia, are you feeling sick?"

"Yeah, I feel like I’m going to vomit," I said, my voice flat.

Carlos smirked, that dangerous, charming grin, and pulled me into his lap.

"Let me see," he purred, his hand sliding up my thigh. "Is my little Sophia carrying my heir?"

I froze.

"Carlos, stop."

"If I were pregnant," I asked, staring into his eyes, "would you take me to City Hall? Would you give me a wedding in front of your family?"

The two questions killed his mood instantly.

He pulled his hand back, forcing a tight smile.

"Don't start this again, baby. You know the rules. We can’t go public; it puts a target on your back."

"Besides, if my family found out I was with my assistant, the Elders wouldn't accept it. You’d be in danger."

"You’d have to live under their scrutiny. Sophia, let’s take it slow. Don't push me, okay?"

"Isn't what we have enough? A marriage license and a wedding are just show. They don't mean anything in our world."

He nuzzled my neck, trying to distract me and make me laugh.

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't.

How could a wedding be meaningless?

For five years, every time I mentioned marriage, he changed the subject or gave me the same tired excuses about "safety" and "timing."

I used to think he had commitment issues because of his lifestyle.

Today, I realized the truth.

He didn't hate marriage. He just didn't want to marry me.

I silently pushed him away, ignoring the disappointment in his eyes, and told him to go shower first.

Once the sound of running water came from the bathroom, I picked up Carlos’s phone.

The password was my birthday. He hadn't changed it.

It used to make me feel special. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

I opened his encrypted messaging app. The pinned chat at the top wasn't me. It was a contact saved as "love of my life," with a profile picture of a woman who looked terrifyingly like me.

The messages were daggers, stabbing into my eyes.

"Sophie, are you okay? Every day you’ve been gone has been hell."

"Sophie, I hired a new assistant. She looks just like you. When I look at her, I can pretend you never left."

"Sophie, it’s fate. Her name is Sophia. She even has your birthday."

"But she isn't you. A counterfeit can never replace the diamond."

"Sophie, I bought that cake from Antonio’s you love. I wish I could feed it to you."

For five years, the chat was mostly Carlos talking to himself, a diary of obsession.

Until three months ago. Sophie returned to the US. The chat became active, filled with daily updates and flirting.

During the first snow of the winter, he had sent her a photo.

"Sophie, look, it's snowing! I'm so lucky you're back this year. I'll pick you up; let’s watch the snow fall together."

That night, he had left me alone with a high fever, claiming he had "business" to handle for the Organization.

The next morning, he came back hungover. I had dragged myself out of bed to make him soup. He took a picture of it and sent it to her.

"Drinking soup this morning. Sophie, remember to eat breakfast."

A month ago, Carlos told me he had to go out of town to handle a business conflict. In reality, he took Sophie on a vacation.

They visited every landmark I had ever begged Carlos to take me to.

He always told me he was too busy, that the mob life didn't allow for vacations. I waited five years.

Sophie had been back for a few months, and suddenly, he had all the time in the world.

He took her to the main estate to meet his parents, introducing her to the inner circle.

I finally understood. True love isn't about hiding someone for their "protection."

It’s about wanting to show them off to the world, regardless of the danger.

I should have known. Carlos wasn't afraid of going public; he just didn't want to go public with me.

Then I saw the photos of the house deed and the engagement ring. Carlos had announced it to his private circle—everyone knew, except me. I was the only one blocked.

My hand trembled uncontrollably holding the phone.

Knowing I was a substitute was one thing. Seeing the evidence—the cold, hard text proving I was just a placeholder—was another.

When Carlos told me he loved me, he was thinking of her.

When he looked at me with those deep, soulful eyes, he was looking through me, searching for her ghost.

Five years of memories shattered like glass, the shards piercing my heart.

The pain was suffocating. I dug my nails into my palm to stop the tears. I couldn't look anymore.

The water stopped running. I turned off the screen.

Carlos walked out, towel around his waist, habitually asking me to serve him.

"Sophia, where’s my navy suit?"

"Sophia, which tie goes with this? The silk or the matte?"

He hugged me from behind, burying his face in my neck, smelling of soap and lies.

"Sophia, I love you so much. What would I do without you?"

He acted the same as always, clinging to me. But when I turned around, he paused.

"Sophia, you look pale. Are you feverish?"

He immediately checked my forehead, his eyes full of worry.

I stayed silent, debating whether to lay the cards on the table, to shatter his fake affection right then and there.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Carlos glanced at the screen. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in an involuntary smile.

Is it her?

The question stuck in my throat.

Noticing my stare, Carlos flipped the phone over, his expression shifting to serious concern.

"Sophia, my father... the Don is in the hospital. I have to go to the compound immediately."

"You have a fever. Take some medicine and sleep. I can't stay tonight. You’re not angry, are you?"

"No," I said softly. "I'm not."

He dressed quickly and left. I couldn't stop myself.

I threw on a trench coat and hailed a cab, following his black SUV from a distance.

Thirty minutes later, his car pulled up not at the hospital, but at a luxury apartment complex.

Sophie was waiting outside. The moment she saw Carlos, she launched herself into his arms.

"Carlos!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the quiet street. "I have good news! I'm pregnant!"

Sophia’s POV

Hearing her words, Carlos grabbed Sophie’s face and kissed her fiercely, right there on the street.

"Is it true? God, this is perfect. I’m going to be a father."

"I promise you, Sophie, I will take care of you and the heir. You are my priority now."

I watched like a pathetic voyeur from the shadows of the taxi, witnessing them walk arm-in-arm into the their love nest.

I stared blankly at the luxury apartment complex that was now their fortress.

A rough hand holding a paper napkin broke my trance.

The cab driver, an older woman with tired eyes who looked like she’d seen everything this city had to offer, sighed.

"Wipe your face, kid. Men like that? They're all the same. "

Only then did I realize my face was wet.

"Thank you," I whispered, accepting the stranger's kindness.

On the ride back to the penthouse, I dialed the number I hadn't called in years.

"Mama. I accept the alliance. I’ll marry the heir of the Rossi family."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a heavy, worried sigh.

"Sophia... did he hurt you? I told you years ago, a man like Carlos—a man who won't claim you in the light—isn't worth your loyalty."

"If a man truly loves you, he puts a ring on your finger and a gun in your hand to protect you. He doesn't hide you away for five years. But it’s never too late to wake up."

"The match I chose for you is honorable. The families have agreed. The wedding is in a week. Pack your bags and come home to the compound tomorrow."

Acid stung my nose. It turned out the truth was crystal clear to everyone looking in from the outside.

I was the only one drowning in Carlos’s sweet lies, refusing to save myself.

When I got back to the penthouse, I started packing. I spent the entire night scrubbing my existence from the place.

Every corner held a memory of me and Carlos.

Knowing I was leaving, I took the ultrasound photo and the hospital report of the miscarriage and placed them squarely in the center of Carlos’s mahogany desk in his study.

Let that be the final period at the end of our five-year sentence.

Carlos didn't come home that night.

The next morning, I went to the headquarters—the legitimate shipping firm that served as the front for Carlos’s operations. I was ready to hand in my resignation.

But before I could reach his office, I heard hushed whispers coming from the break room.

"Whoa, was that the future Donna? She and the Boss look perfect together."

"But... doesn't the Boss's Lady look exactly like Sophia, the assistant?"

"The Boss must be obsessed. Imagine being so lovesick you hire a body double of your ex to fetch your coffee?"

I stood frozen near the door, listening to the gossip.

I turned to leave, but fate had other plans. I locked eyes with Carlos and Sophie.

They were walking down the corridor, hand in hand. One looked guilty and flustered; the other wore a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Carlos hesitated, clearly looking for an escape route, but Sophie spoke first.

She smiled, a predator greeting its prey.

"You must be Sophia. The assistant who has been by Carlos's side for five years."

"Hello. I'm Sophie. Carlos's fiancée. Thank you for taking such good care of him for me all these years."

"Carlos talks about you often. I can't believe the resemblance is so strong. You even wear the same perfume and dress just like me."

The cloying scent of heavy roses hit me as she moved closer. It was the exact same perfume I was wearing.

Bitterness spread through my chest like poison.

Carlos always insisted on buying my perfume and my clothes.

I hated the smell of roses, and I hated the revealing, elegant style he chose. But I wore them because I thought it was his way of spoiling me.

Now I saw the truth. He wasn't spoiling me. He was molding me.

He was desperately trying to build a perfect replica of Sophie.

I didn't move. I just turned my gaze to Carlos.

He flinched, avoiding my eyes as he nodded stiffly.

"Right. Sophie, this is the assistant I told you about."

"The girl is... hardworking. I kept her around to handle the menial tasks. She runs errands for me."

Sophie laughed, a light, dismissive sound.

"Carlos, darling, you don't need to explain so much. I know the difference between business and pleasure."

"Besides, Miss Johnson looks so much like me. You kept her as your assistant just so you could look at her and think of me, didn't you?"

She threw herself into Carlos’s arms, kissing him deeply, marking her territory.

The staff around us erupted into applause and cheers, praising the happy couple.

Carlos cleared his throat, regaining his composure as the Capo. He announced loudly:

"Listen up, everyone. I want to introduce you to my fiancée. Sophie will also be taking over as the Director of Operations starting today."

Instantly, every eye in the room turned to me.

Sophia’s POV

Since I had been running the logistics division for years, everyone tacitly accepted that I was the manager in all but name.

But Carlos, right in front of his staff, added Sophie—who had parachuted in from nowhere—to the encrypted company channel.

They sent messages one after another.Unless you were blind, you couldn't miss their matching profile pictures.The room erupted in envious whistles and cheers.

Carlos suddenly tapped his phone, signaling me to check my private messages."Sophia, this engagement is purely political. Don't misunderstand.""My father, the Old Don, is dying. This is his last wish. I’m just playing the part to keep the families happy."

I couldn't help but let out a dry, humorless laugh. Carlos still thought he could gaslight me, treating me like a naive child.

I had no interest in watching their public display of affection. I turned to go back to my office—or what used to be my office—to pack my personal stuff.

But Sophie grabbed my hand.Hidden from the others, her manicured nails dug viciously into the tender flesh of my wrist, drawing blood.

"By the way, Miss Johnson, since you are so familiar with the menial labor, be a dear and move my things into the office next to Carlos's."

Sophie’s eyes darted toward me, the provocation thick and heavy.

"I know that's where you've been working, but Carlos is so clingy.""He wants to see me at a moment's notice. So, I'll have to trouble you to move to a different desk."

Sophie barked orders with excitement, and Carlos didn't voice a single objection.Since I planned to resign anyway, I didn't care about losing the office.However, a few of the older, loyal employees stood up for me, questioning the decision.Sophie had zero experience in our operations. Moving offices just for a romantic tryst was unprofessional and dangerous for business.

I quickly grabbed the few who spoke up, signaling them to stay quiet.

Sophie’s face went pale, then red. Her eyes instantly filled with tears."Miss Johnson, I just got here. I don't know how I offended you. If you're unhappy, say it to my face. Don't brainwash the staff to target me."

Carlos glared at me, his eyes cold and furious."Sophia! Look what you've done. Clear your trash out now. Make room for Sophie."

"It's just an office. Do you have to be so petty? I won't tolerate you manipulating the crew to bully Sophie!"

"And if I catch anyone else relying on their seniority to haze the newcomer, you're done. Out on the street."

He ruthlessly swept my few personal belongings off the desk and onto the floor. Then, with his own hands, he began arranging the space for Sophie—bringing in vases of fresh flowers and silk cushions.

To an outsider, it looked less like an office and more like he was decorating a bridal suite.

I handed my resignation letter to HR quietly. I still had handover protocols to finish, so I worked until the end of the shift.

After hours, the colleagues invited me to a dinner. Apparently, Carlos was throwing a celebration for Sophie’s "onboarding."

I was surprised. A celebration for showing up?But knowing I was leaving for good, I didn't refuse.I treated it as my silent farewell to the life I was leaving behind.

At the restaurant, I realized the few colleagues who had defended me earlier were missing.I messaged them privately. Carlos had fired them. Not only that, he had threatened to blacklist them from the entire industry if they dared to complain to me.

I never thought Carlos, who used to value loyalty above all else, would ruin his own men’s livelihoods just to vent Sophie’s petty anger.

The dinner table was filled with sycophants, raising glasses and kissing the ring.Halfway through, I made an excuse to get some air.

I walked out to the garden terrace, but before I could take a breath, Carlos yanked me into the shadows.

He pressed me against the stone wall, his hot breath on my neck, his voice dropping to that familiar, tender whisper.

"Sophia, I know you felt wronged today. My heart aches for you."

"I had to do it. I had to show strength for my father. You don't blame your hubby, do you?"

"You've always been the sensible one. Listen, after this dinner, go pack your bags. I'm moving you to the new condo on the East Side."

"Sophie knows about the penthouse now. It’s not safe for you to stay there. Be a good girl, Sophia."

Because I was "sensible," I had agreed to be his shadow for five years.Now, he was trying to coax me into being his kept mistress, hidden away in a different cage while he played house with his wife.

I pushed him away hard.Just as I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, a piercing wail from Sophie echoed from the front hall.