My husband Dominic married me eight times, and divorced me eight times for the woman he truly loved, but there wouldn't be a ninth time today.

"Let's divorce. Your first love is here."

I placed the annulment papers on the mahogany desk, right over his keyboard. The study smelled of cigar smoke and old leather, the way every room in the Castellano compound eventually did, no matter how many times the staff aired it out.

Dominic didn't even blink. He just picked up his pen, signed his name with a lazy flick of his wrist, and tossed the document back to me.

"We'll have the ceremony again once she leaves after a month," he said, his eyes already back on his screen. "For now, just go on a vacay. Buy yourself something nice."

It was always like this. Gianna was a free spirit who despised the idea of marriage and being tied down. She preferred to drift between European safe houses and the villas of minor allied families, living completely carefree. But whenever she grew bored or lonely, she would return to the city, and Dominic would immediately clear his life for her — which meant annulling me.

Then, once her restlessness kicked in and she abandoned him again, he would summon me back to resume my role as his convenient, blood-bound placeholder.

I didn't say a word.

I just turned around, walked into our master bedroom, and pulled my suitcase from the closet. I started packing my clothes. Through the window, I could see the iron gate at the perimeter of the estate, the soldier stationed beside it watching the driveway with the blank patience of a man who'd stand there until he was told not to.

Usually, this was the part where I cried. The part where I begged him to look at me, to choose me, to explain why I was never enough.

Today, the room was dead silent.

Heavy footsteps suddenly stormed into the room. Before I could fold my last shirt, Dominic grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, his jaw clenched tight. "Aren't you gonna say a word to me? Aren't you jealous? Gianna is here."

I gently pulled my arm out of his grip and turned back to my suitcase. "Well, yeah."

Dominic stared at me like I had lost my mind.

"What is wrong with you?" he barked, stepping into my space. "Are you cheating on me? Is that why you don't care?"

My hands paused on the zipper. I let out a short, dry laugh and looked him dead in the eye.

"Cheating?" I repeated. "Dominic, it's not like you love me."

He flinched, but I didn't stop.

"From the very beginning, it has always been business with us. We aren't husband and wife. We just have contracts and deals."

It was the ugly truth. I had agreed to his terms years ago because I needed money to support my mother's medical care at the Family's private clinic. The Castellanos had covered every bill, every specialist, every experimental treatment, and in return I had signed myself over like collateral on a loan that could never be repaid. I hadn't actually thought I'd fall for him, but I did, only to be disregarded ever since. But after everything, I finally knew I would never love him again.

Dominic's face darkened. His possessive anger flared. I watched his thumb find the signet ring on his right hand, the Castellano crest catching the lamplight as he turned it, slow and deliberate.

"If you dare betray me and have another man," he warned, his voice dropping into a lethal, cold whisper. "I swear, your mother will die."

I looked at his handsome, furious face.

"Okay," I said softly.

He didn't know. He had been so busy preparing for Gianna's arrival — having the guest wing opened, briefing his soldiers, making sure the compound was swept clean of anything that might remind her of obligation — that he hadn't even noticed my swollen eyes. He didn't know the clinic had called me three days ago.

My mother was already dead.

I snapped my suitcase shut, cutting off the conversation. "I'm leaving now. I'm just gonna stay with my friend."

"Don't get any ideas about ambushing us at the social club," he warned, his lip curling in disgust. "I won't tolerate you throwing another hysterical fit in front of my men just to get my attention."

I knew exactly what he was referring to. Gianna was only in town for a short while, and Dominic intended to parade her through the Family's operations as his rightful partner — the woman at his side when the capos came to pay their respects.

The memory of our third annulment flashed in my mind. Back then, I had been foolish enough to think I could fight for my marriage. I had rushed to the social club to deliver a crucial set of ledgers he had left at the estate, only to find Gianna sitting in his chair behind the heavy oak desk, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. When I lost my temper and demanded she get away from my husband, Gianna had squeezed out a few fake tears.

To protect his precious first love from the judgmental whispers of the capos and senior associates gathering outside the closed doors, Dominic hadn't just told me to leave. He had called his soldiers.

As two of them grabbed my arms to drag me out, Dominic had coldly tossed our freshly stamped annulment decree onto the floor at my feet.

"She isn't my wife," he had announced loudly to the entire room, ensuring everyone heard him over my sobs. "She's just an ex who doesn't know when to quit."

Since that day, his people made it a point to spread word of our dissolved union through every connected family and associate every single time Gianna returned. They painted Gianna as his innocent, destined partner, and me as the delusional, clinging woman who was obsessed with the Castellano name.

But this time, his threats meant nothing.

"You don't have to worry," I said, walking past him without a second glance. "I have zero interest in interrupting your time with Gianna. You two deserve each other."

He frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read my face. He was clearly unsettled by my lack of tears, but his massive ego quickly covered it up.

"Just make sure you're back by the second week of next month," he ordered. "We have a ceremony to schedule."

I didn't turn around, but a quiet, genuine smile broke across my face.

"Okay," I whispered to the empty air.

Because the second week of next month was exactly when my one-way flight was scheduled to take off. And Dominic would never find me again.

In the past, during our first few divorces, I was pathetic. I used to follow Dominic and Gianna around the city like a masochist. I would sit in my parked car outside Family-owned restaurants, watching through the tinted glass as he showered her with the kind of tender love and affection he never gave me.

He would buy her entire boutiques, kiss her forehead, and look at her like she hung the stars. It broke my heart into a million pieces, but I swallowed the pain.

I was willing to stay, willing to endure the humiliation, just for the scraps of his attention.

But everything changed a few months ago, on his birthday.

I had just found out I was pregnant. Overjoyed and terrified, I bought a custom cake and went to his private social club to surprise him with the news. I thought a baby might finally make us a real family.

Instead, I got the surprise of my life.

I was standing outside the back room, my hand hovering over the doorknob, when I heard him talking to his underboss.

"I don't care about Bianca," Dominic's voice drifted through the crack in the door, cold and annoyed. "She's just a placeholder. Honestly, by our ninth ceremony, I'm going to cut her loose and pull her mother's medical funding for good. Gianna told me she's finally getting tired of moving between safe houses. She wants to settle down soon, and when she does, I'm going to make it official with her."

The cake slipped from my hands, ruining the icing on the carpet. I ran out of the social club and stumbled into a cheap bar, drinking until I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet.

I cried until my eyes were swollen shut.

But the nightmare was just beginning. On my way home, walking through a dark street on the edge of Castellano territory, a group of thugs dragged me into a filthy alley. I was terrified.

As they tore at my clothes and hit me, I managed to dial Dominic's number, praying he would come save me.

The phone rang and rang, until he finally rejected the call.

Later, I found out he was busy picking Gianna up from a private airstrip because she had decided to make a surprise visit.

I was beaten, robbed, and left in the dirt. I had to drag my own bleeding body to a clinic. I lost my baby that night on a cold linoleum floor, all alone.

So right now? I didn't care anymore. The woman who loved Dominic died in that clinic.

After dropping my suitcase at my friend's apartment tonight, I decided to go to a high-end lounge downtown, a place on neutral ground where none of the Five Families held sway. Not to drown my sorrows, but to finally celebrate being untied from him.

I ordered a strong cocktail and drank, letting the burn soothe my throat.

"Celebrating something?" a deep, smooth voice asked.

I turned to see a strikingly handsome man sitting on the stool next to me. I didn't know it yet, but this was Lorenzo, the Don of the Ferraro Family, the rival syndicate that had been carving into Castellano territory and bleeding Dominic's operations for the past year.

"My freedom," I replied, clinking my glass against his.

We talked and drank, the conversation flowing easily. For the first time in years, I felt like a normal woman.

I was so engrossed in the conversation that I didn't even realize Dominic and Gianna had walked into the lounge.

"Bianca? Hi!" a sickeningly sweet voice chirped.

I turned around. Gianna was standing there, clinging to Dominic's arm.

Dominic looked at me, his brows furrowed in deep displeasure, clearly shocked to see me out drinking instead of crying at home like I usually did.

"I'm so sorry," Gianna continued, offering a fake, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But I actually just paid for this entire lounge to be closed off so Dominic and I can celebrate my return privately. Would you mind going out?"

Dominic crossed his arms, his posture arrogant.

He was waiting for my usual meltdown. He expected me to throw a drink, to scream, to beg him not to kick me out.

I just set my glass down and grabbed my purse. "Sure."

Dominic's arrogant expression faltered. He looked completely stunned, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at my calm face.

Before the silence could stretch, the man next to me stood up, adjusting his expensive suit jacket. He looked down at me with a charming smile, completely ignoring Dominic and Gianna. Two soldiers standing near the entrance shifted their weight, hands drifting beneath their jackets, reading the tension in the room the way men in this world always did.

"Well, what about coming with me, lady?" Lorenzo asked, offering me his hand. "We can continue celebrating your freedom somewhere much better."

I smiled up at him. "Sure."

I took Lorenzo's hand and we walked right past them, leaving Dominic frozen in place.

We stepped out into the cool night air and walked toward Lorenzo's sleek black car, an enforcer already holding the rear door open.

I was just about to reach for the passenger door handle when heavy, furious footsteps approached from behind.

A strong hand clamped down on my wrist, yanking me back so hard I crashed into a solid chest.

Dominic pulled me close, his fingers digging into my skin.

His eyes were blazing with a dark, terrifying possessiveness as he glared at Lorenzo over my head.

"No," Dominic snarled, his voice vibrating with rage. "You're mine. You're not coming with him."

I let out a loud, genuine laugh, staring at the hand gripping my wrist. I shook my head, looking up at his furious face.

"I'm not yours," I said, pulling my arm. His grip was like iron. "In fact, I don't even know you."

Dominic's expression darkened. Before he could snap, Lorenzo stepped between us, effortlessly breaking Dominic's hold.

"Yeah, she's my date tonight," Lorenzo said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. He placed a hand on the small of my back. "Do you have a problem with that, Dominic?"

Two of Dominic's soldiers shifted behind him, hands drifting inside their jackets. Lorenzo didn't even glance at them. His own men, somewhere in the dark beyond the valet stand, would have already adjusted.

Dominic's hands curled into fists. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to cause a massive scene right there on the pavement.

But then, a piercing scream echoed from inside the lounge.

"Dominic!" Gianna shrieked.

Dominic froze. The possessive rage in his eyes vanished, instantly replaced by panic. Without throwing a single backward glance in my direction, he turned and sprinted back inside to his precious first love.

I stood on the sidewalk and laughed. It was a hollow sound, but it felt incredibly freeing. He couldn't even pretend to care about me for a full minute.

"Well," Lorenzo murmured, opening the passenger door of his black sedan. His driver was already behind the wheel, engine idling. "Shall we?"

I slid into the plush leather seat. As we pulled away, the city blurred past the windows. The partition between us and the driver was up. The streets of Castellano territory fell behind us block by block.

"Hmm, interesting," Lorenzo said, breaking the silence. He ran his thumb slowly along the edge of the armrest, glancing at me with a playful smirk. "I know of him, obviously, but I don't know who his girl is. Are you really not his girl?"

I leaned my head against the cool window. "I'm no one's."

Lorenzo chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "Is that so? Maybe you should be my girl, then."

I just laughed it off, closing my eyes and letting the exhaustion wash over me.

The next morning, I was dead asleep on the sofa bed in the apartment when violent banging jolted me awake. The doorbell rang incessantly.

I dragged myself up and peeked through the peephole. Standing in the hallway were two massive men in tailored black suits. Castellano soldiers. I recognized the one on the left from the compound gate detail.

I cracked the door open, leaving the chain on. "What do you want?"

"Ma'am," the lead soldier said stiffly. "Don Castellano demands that you come back to the estate immediately."

I rolled my eyes. "If he wants me, he has to come and take me himself."

I slammed the door in their faces and locked the deadbolt.

Less than twenty minutes later, the banging returned. This time, it was louder, accompanied by a voice I knew all too well.

"Bianca! Open this damn door!" Dominic roared.

I sighed, undoing the chain and pulling the door open. Dominic stood there, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. Behind him, his soldiers had positioned themselves at either end of the corridor, backs to us, watching the stairwells.

"Get your things," he demanded, stepping into the doorway. "You're coming home right now."

I crossed my arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. "No, I will not. The annulment went through, Dominic. We are not bound anymore."

"I don't care about a piece of paper!" he snapped.

"Why are you throwing a tantrum?" I asked, offering him a mocking smile. "Is it because you love me? Or is it because you're just jealous that I can finally replace you?"

Dominic's eyes flashed. He stepped into my space, backing me up against the entryway wall. A dark, arrogant grin spread across his face.

"No," he whispered, his voice dripping with toxic confidence. "You can never replace me. You're mine."

He grabbed my wrist. "And you're coming home."

"If you don't come willingly," he added, his voice dropping into a lethal threat, "I will force you. And I will make sure your mother's clinic funding is cut today. She will die, Bianca."

I stared at him. He was using a dead woman to blackmail me. He didn't even bother checking if she was still alive.

I wanted to scream, to spit in his face. But fighting him now would only complicate my escape.

I let out a heavy sigh, dropping my shoulders. "Fine."

I grabbed my suitcase and followed him to his car. The ride back to the sprawling Castellano estate was silent. The iron gates opened before we reached them, and the guards along the drive stood a little straighter as the car passed.

When we finally walked through the grand double doors, Dominic turned to me, his authority restored.

"You're going to stay here until we have the ceremony again," he ordered.

I looked around the empty foyer. The chandelier above us cast long shadows across the marble. Somewhere deeper in the house, I could hear the faint sound of a television, a soldier on overnight watch. "What about you? Are you going back to Gianna?"

"Yes," he admitted without an ounce of shame. "But I will surely come back for you. I'll buy you everything to make up for this little rebellion. What do you want?"

I looked him dead in the eye. "I want an island."

Dominic paused, surprised, but then a smug smile touched his lips. He thought he had bought my obedience once again. He turned his signet ring once with his thumb, slow and satisfied, the Castellano crest catching the light.

"Okay," he agreed smoothly. "I'll buy you an island. As long as you stay right here."

I nodded obediently. "I will."

I watched him walk out the door to return to the woman he truly loved. I stood alone in the massive foyer, pretending I was going to wait for him.

But as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, I smiled.

A few more days, bye Dominic.