After returning from a year of studying art in Florence, I discovered my fiancé, Marco—the rising star of the New York underworld—was already with his new flame, Ava.

Before I could even demand an explanation, the club's new queen bee was in my face, taunting me.

"So what if I took your place? If I want something, I take it. That includes your title as Marco's fiancée."

Furious, I stormed off to confront Marco, but he only defended her.

"The club can't run without her. If you're going to make a scene, I have no problem finding a new fiancée."

I just laughed and made a call.

"Papa, cut him off. Pull all our support. I want him erased from this city."

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1

Ava, admiring her blood-red nails, blocked my path in the club's hallway, her chin tilted at an impossible angle.

My rage flared, and I slapped her hard across her pale face.

"You'd better hope you don't choke on those words. Do you have any idea how Marco's empire was built?!"

The force of my slap nearly sent her toppling off her four-inch stilettos. After staggering to regain her balance, she shrieked and lunged at me.

"You bitch! You hit me? Just wait, I'll have Marco throw you out on the street right now!"

"You don't have to. I'm going to find him myself!"

I shoved Ava aside and stormed towards the top-floor office.

"That's enough, Isabella! You've been gone a year. Did you have to come back and immediately start shit with Ava?"

Marco strode out, blocking my path.

After a year apart, his face showed no trace of longing for me—only raw concern for Ava.

Ava scrambled over and threw herself into Marco's arms, then shot me a deliberately provocative look.

"She hit me the second she got back! She's just pissed you replaced her with me. You're the boss. What are you going to do about it?"

I crossed my arms, my gaze locking with Marco's cold, indifferent eyes.

"What, did a year away give you amnesia? This is my territory. I'm your fiancée. So, what are you going to do about me?"

Color drained from Marco's face, a muscle twitching in his jaw. After a long silence, he gritted his teeth.

"The club can't run without her. If you're going to make a scene, I have no problem finding a new fiancée."

His words struck me like a shard of ice to the heart.

We had been in love for six years, ever since college. I had never once looked down on him for being a poor kid from the Brooklyn streets.

Worried he’d feel insecure, I hid my identity as the Principessa of the Moretti family, playing the part of an ordinary girlfriend for six long years.

After graduation, when he wanted to make a name for himself, I secretly had Papa send his men, posing as investors, to give him ten million dollars in start-up capital.

His first major score was handed to him on a silver platter—a deal I secretly arranged through Papa's connections.

Just like that, his empire rose, and to this day, he still believes he did it all himself.

Yet, he shut me out of the club's core business, claiming he didn't want me to "work too hard," that I should just be his supportive partner on the sidelines.

Only after I begged him repeatedly did he let me in, giving me the title of the club's "lady," but it was a hollow title with no real power.

And what was my reward? The moment the business stabilized, he shipped me off to Florence for a year to "study art."

Just a month after I left, rumors reached me that he was getting cozy with a newly hired stripper named Ava.

But I couldn't bring myself to believe that the devoted man I knew would ever betray me.

It wasn't until I returned from Italy that Marco and Ava delivered a one-two punch right to my face.

Only then did the devastating reality sink in.

I glared at Marco and let out a cold, humorless laugh.

"Are you sure you want to replace me?"

"I'm sure. And Isabella, don't try to guilt-trip me with our six years. When the love is gone, it's gone. The one I love now is Ava. Not only is she younger and sexier, but her networking skills make you what you are—a useless figurehead. You're holding me back, Isabella!"

Listening to his shameless speech, a bitter, angry laugh escaped me.

I’d heard the stories—power corrupts, success changes a man—but to see it unfold before my very eyes was still a staggering blow.

I could still hear the words of that kid from the streets, the one who held me with adoring eyes and promised me a lifetime. In the blink of an eye, that boy had vanished, replaced by a shameless snake.

My laughter seemed to needle him, his expression souring.

"What's so funny? Am I wrong? In two years, I took over half of Brooklyn. And what did you do? As the 'lady' of the club? You can't even cook a decent meal. Ava is the kind of woman a man like me needs."

"So, consider yourself out, Isabella. We're through. Get the hell off my turf and get your shit out of my apartment. Now."

I expected a wave of sadness, a crushing ache in my chest after being so cruelly discarded by the man I once loved.

But now, all I felt was a searing regret for my own blindness. For wasting my love—and my family's vast resources—on an ungrateful viper.

"Out? Through? Heh, Marco, you'd better not live to regret this."

I gritted my teeth, my gaze fixed coldly on his still-handsome face as I uttered the words calmly.

"Oh, who do you think you're threatening, Isabella? You really think he can't live without you?"

"Don't worry, Marco has me. His empire will only get bigger, and his life will be even happier!" Ava cackled, nestled in Marco's arms like a venomous bloom, as the crowd of sycophants and opportunists chimed in.

"That's right! Ava brought in huge clients for the club this past year. She's earned her place here!"

"Exactly! What did she contribute while she was off in Italy? She should've been kicked out long ago!"

"Ava and Marco are a perfect match. Some people just don't know when to quit, coming back here just to be humiliated!"

My disappointed gaze fell on Leo, the head of security, a man I had personally trained.

"Leo, if I hadn't spent countless nights training you, you'd still be brawling in some back alley for scraps, wouldn't you?"

To my surprise, he felt no guilt. He just sneered back at me.

"So what? I earned my place. Get it through your head: Marco sent you away because he was sick of you. Ava's the boss's lady now. I'm just playing it smart."

I then looked at Sal, the man who ran his books, whose family I had single-handedly saved from loan sharks.

Even Sal looked at me with cold disdain.

"Isabella, look, you helped me once, I admit it. But I work for Marco. I have to look out for my own future, and that's with him and Ava. Sorry."

Seeing that no one in the room would stand with me, Marco looked at me smugly.

"How much longer are you going to stand there and embarrass yourself?"

That smug look on his face—the look of a small man who thinks he's won—was all it took to set my fury ablaze.

I vividly remembered how humbly he had held my hand when he was pursuing me.

"Bella, I know I'm from the streets. I don't have much. All I ask is a chance to love you. Even if you stop loving me one day, I'll be forever grateful that you once did."

He even promised that if we ever broke up, he'd still treat me like family, that he'd always be my safe harbor.

Now, all that was left was the ugly sneer on his face.

I bit my lip, a sharp ache of sorrow piercing my heart as I looked at him.

"Marco, six years of love, and you throw it away just like that. Fine. But be honest with yourself, just for a second. Did you really build this place alone? Would any of this be yours without me?"

For a moment, his expression softened, but it was quickly replaced by impatience as he planted his hands on his hips.

"What do you want, then? A payoff? Fine. For the six years, a hundred grand. Is that enough?"

With that, he yanked a thick stack of cash from his suit pocket and flung it at my face.

"Take it! And get out of here, so you don't run around telling everyone I'm a heartless bastard who used you for six years!"

The bills fluttered down my face and scattered at my feet. Ava sauntered over, crossing her arms with a mocking smile.

"What are you waiting for? Pick it up. That's a hundred grand. You could keep yourself in boy toys for two years with that!"

Immediately, the crowd of leeches erupted in laughter.

"That's right! She's been a leech for six years. A hundred grand is more than she deserves!"

"Look at her, acting all high and mighty. I bet she's itching to get on her knees and scoop it all up!"

"Hey! Marco's done with you, you have no business being here! Get the hell out!"

My eyes swept across the room. Dozens of faces, most of whom I had personally helped at one point or another.

But now, not a single one would speak up for me. A profound sense of betrayal washed over me.

Marco wrapped his arm around Ava, watching coldly as the mob insulted and mocked me.

"Alright, Isabella, I know you've got your pride, but what are you going to live on without me? Just take the money. It'll cover you for a few years."

I stared at his face, a cold smile forming on my lips, and kicked the cash towards his feet.

"A hundred grand? That wouldn't even cover one of my handbags. You keep it. It might pay for your whores for a couple of years."

My words made his face darken with fury.

"You—Isabella! I never knew you had a mouth like a sewer! I'm with Ava now, fine, but I never cheated on you. The thought is disgusting!"

"Hmm, maybe you should ask your precious Ava. Weren't those her words? I guess... she would know."

Marco's head snapped toward Ava, his eyes blazing. Her lip quivered as she stammered pitifully.

"I... I was just running my mouth..."

Her pity party ended in a flash. Her expression hardened as her glare fixed on me.

"Isabella, you bitch! What are you trying to do, turn him against me? If you don't get lost, believe me, I'll have someone throw you out!"

I leaned closer, my face inches from hers.

"Go ahead. I dare you."