The Woman He Let Go Eight Times

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.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up, the screen illuminating the dark bedroom.

Flight confirmed. Your new apartment in Paris is fully furnished and paid for the first year. Everything is ready, Natalia's text read.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Freedom was finally tangible. Just three more days.

Before I could lock the screen, another message popped up. It was from an unsaved number, but I knew exactly who it was.

What about the deal? Have you thought about it? Lorenzo asked.

I stared at the glowing words. Last night in the car, Lorenzo had made me an offer. He knew I wanted to disappear, and he had the resources to make me completely untraceable. In exchange, he wanted the internal financial records I had memorized during my years playing the dutiful Don's wife. The ledgers. The tribute flows. The laundering routes through European operations that I'd absorbed silently across eight alliance ceremonies and eight annulments, sitting in rooms where men forgot I existed because I was nothing more than furniture to them.

I was still weighing my options when the bedroom door suddenly flew open, slamming against the wall.

Before I could even sit up, a hand cracked across my cheek. The slap was sharp, the sting immediate.

"You bitch!" Gianna screamed, her perfectly manicured face twisted in ugly rage. "What did you do to Dominic? Why did he change his mind?"

I slowly turned my head back to face her, tasting copper on my lip. I didn't flinch. I just looked at her, my expression completely blank.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, my voice eerily calm.

"Don't lie to me!" Gianna shrieked, stepping closer. "He was supposed to propose to me tonight! The ring was ready, the families were waiting! But he canceled everything and said he needed to finalize his remarriage to you first! What kind of spell did you put on him?"

I let out a dark, humorless laugh. So Dominic had actually delayed his precious proposal just to keep me trapped. The Don of the Castellano Family, and he couldn't even let his captive bride walk away clean.

I stood up from the bed, towering over her slightly. "Maybe he finally realized you're just a tourist in his life, Gianna. You leave whenever you get bored, and you only come back when you need his protection. Maybe he actually loves me now because I was the one who stayed."

It was a lie, of course, but I wanted to see her bleed.

Gianna's eyes widened in fury. She raised her hand to strike me again. "You delusional"

"What the hell is going on here?"

The deep, furious voice came from the doorway. Gianna froze, her hand suspended in the air.

Dominic stood there, his eyes sweeping over the room. The hallway light cut across his shoulders. Behind him, in the corridor, the soldier on night rotation had gone completely still, gaze fixed on the middle distance, seeing nothing. Hearing nothing. That was the rule in this house.

The second Gianna saw him, her entire demeanor shifted. The vicious, screaming woman vanished.

"Dominic!" she cried, running to him and burying her face in his chest. "She's crazy! I just came to ask her why she was doing this to us, and she started saying horrible things! She said you never loved me!"

I stood there, the metallic taste of blood still on my tongue, the red mark burning into my cheek. I waited for Dominic to look at me. I waited for him to see the cut on my lip, to see that Gianna was the one who had hit me.

But he didn't.

Dominic wrapped his arms tightly around Gianna, kissing the top of her head. Then, he looked at me. His eyes were completely devoid of the possessive fire from this morning. There was only cold, hard disgust.

"Are you out of your mind, Bianca?" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "I brought you back here to keep you out of trouble, not to terrorize the woman I actually love."

My chest tightened. Even though my heart was already dead, his words still managed to twist the knife.

"She hit me, Dominic," I said quietly, pointing to my bleeding lip.

He didn't even blink. "Don't play the victim. You provoked her. Let me make this perfectly clear to you so you stop living in a fantasy: I only delayed the proposal because the optics of a sudden annulment look bad for the Family right now. The other families are watching. The Commision is watching. I need you to play the good wife for the allies for a few more months."

He sneered, his grip tightening protectively around Gianna.

"Don't flatter yourself into thinking I want you," he added cruelly. "You are nothing but a convenient shield until Gianna and I are ready."

He turned around, guiding a sobbing Gianna out of the room, leaving me completely alone in the cold, silent bedroom. The soldier in the hallway resumed breathing. A door closed somewhere deeper in the compound. Then nothing.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway. The last pathetic, lingering shred of hope I didn't even know I was holding onto finally turned to ash.

I walked calmly back to the nightstand and picked up my phone. I opened the message from the unsaved number.

My thumb pressed hard against the inside of my ring finger. I didn't catch myself doing it.

My fingers didn't tremble at all as I typed my reply to Lorenzo.

I'll take the deal. Get me the hell out of Dominic's life.

The brush glided smoothly across the canvas. I mixed a deep, bruised shade of purple, completely lost in the quiet of my room.

I was just counting the days. Lorenzo was moving fast, pulling strings through his network to finalize everything for our sudden wedding and my complete extraction from the country. Safe houses, forged documents, a route through neutral territory that the Castellano Family couldn't touch.

The heavy oak door suddenly banged open.

Dominic stormed in, his collar loosened, a crumpled piece of paper crushed in his fist.

"Why the hell did you walk away from your duties?" he demanded, his voice echoing off the walls. "You're supposed to be running the front office at the social club. I just found out you haven't been there in days."

I didn't even flinch. I carefully dipped my brush into the water glass. "You locked me in this house, Dominic. Have you forgotten?"

"Stop making excuses!" he snapped, crossing the room in three long strides. "The associates are a mess because you didn't handle what you were supposed to handle."

Before I could answer, he lashed out. His hand caught the edge of my easel, violently shoving it. The wet canvas crashed onto the hardwood floor.

He stepped right on it, his expensive leather shoe smearing hours of my work into an ugly, ruined streak of paint.

I stared at the ruined canvas, my chest tight.

"I told you," Dominic growled, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. "You are mine. So get to the club right now and arrange everything. Including the charity gala on the 17th of next week."

The 17th. The night before my scheduled flight. The night before I was supposed to marry Lorenzo.

I looked up at his furious, entitled face. Fighting him would only draw attention to my escape.

I let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Fine."

An hour later, I walked onto the top floor of the Castellano social club, the legitimate office wing where the Family's real-estate holdings and import company kept their books clean for the Feds. The whispers started the second I came through the doors.

"She's still here? I thought she was finally gone."

"She just won't let him go. It's pathetic."

"She always played favorites anyway, sleeping her way to the top."

I ignored the venomous stares and walked straight to my desk. I spent the next few hours ruthlessly fixing the scheduling disasters and smoothing over angry associates whose shipments had stalled.

Around noon, the glass doors swung open. Gianna strolled into the office, carrying a tray of expensive coffees.

"Oh, Bianca!" Gianna called out loudly, making sure the entire floor was watching. She walked over to my desk, a sickly sweet smile on her face. "You're still working? Dominic is just too kind, letting his ex-wife keep a position out of pity. Just make sure you don't mess up the charity gala, okay? It's very important to us."

She left a coffee on my desk with a condescending pat on my shoulder. The entire office snickered. I just picked up the cup and dropped it straight into the trash can.

A few days later, the tension in the Family reached its peak.

It was the quarterly investor sit-down. The grand back room of the club was packed with the most powerful financiers and silent partners the Castellano syndicate kept on its books.

Dominic sat at the head of the long mahogany table, radiating power. Two soldiers stood behind him near the paneled wall, hands loose at their sides.

Gianna, despite having no actual role in the organization, was perched in a chair right behind him, her hand resting possessively on his shoulder.

I stood at the front of the room, holding the presentation remote.

"If you direct your attention to the screen," I said clearly, "you will see the projected revenue for the upcoming quarter."

I clicked the remote.

The massive screen flickered. But it wasn't my financial slides.

It was security footage from Dominic's private office in the compound. The timestamp in the corner was from months ago, the night of our fourth annulment.

My own voice, thick with tears and desperation, echoed loudly through the silent room.

"Please, Dominic. Just look at me. Don't do this."

On the massive screen, my past self was sobbing, clinging to his suit jacket. I watched in absolute horror as the video showed me desperately trying to kiss him, begging him to love me back, while Dominic stood there, cold and unmoving, looking at me like I was garbage.

The room erupted into shocked gasps and frantic whispers. One of the investors set his pen down very slowly. The soldiers by the wall didn't move, but their eyes shifted to Dominic, waiting.

Gianna jumped up from her chair, her hands flying to her mouth in exaggerated horror.

"Oh, god!" she cried out, her voice piercing the room, trembling with fake devastation. Tears instantly spilled down her perfectly made-up cheeks. "I can't believe you'd do this to me, Bianca! You're seducing your own Don? Have you no shame? You knew we were together!"

The remote slipped from my numb fingers, clattering against the floor.

"Are you stupid?" he roared, the sound bouncing off the oak-paneled walls of the war room. "You couldn't even check the damn flash drive before you plugged it in? You just cost me three of my biggest backers!"

"I didn't put that video there, Dominic, and you know it," I said, my voice dead. "But I don't care anymore. Keep the Family. Keep Gianna. I just want to leave."

"Leave?" Dominic sneered, his grip tightening on my arm. "You think you can just walk away after what you've done? After you ruined my sit-down with the council? No. You are staying right here until I fix this. You aren't going anywhere until we remarry and fix this mess with the other Families."

"I'm not marrying you"

My words were cut off by the sharp ringing of Dominic's phone.

He snatched it from his pocket, his eyes never leaving mine. "What?" he snapped.

He listened for a second, and all the color drained from his face.

"What do you mean she had an accident?" Dominic demanded, his voice dropping into a panic. "Where is she?"

He hung up the phone and glared at me with pure hatred. "In her hysterics over what you did, Gianna tripped and crashed through the glass display in the lobby. Her arm is shredded. The paramedics are saying she might need a skin graft."

He didn't hesitate. He yanked me toward the door. "And you're going to give it to her."

I dug my heels into the carpet, fighting against his iron grip. "No! Are you insane? I will not do that!"

"You will do it!" Dominic shouted, his eyes wild with desperation for his first love. "You'll do it for the sake of Gianna, because you're the one who ruined our Family's image today! You caused her to panic! If you don't do this, Bianca, I swear to God, you will never see the light again!"

I froze. My breath hitched in my throat.

I stopped fighting. I let him drag me into the private elevator, into his armored car, and straight to the VIP wing of the Family's private clinic.

When I woke up hours later, the side of my thigh burned with a stinging, agonizing pain. The hospital room was dark and completely empty.

I laid there staring at the ceiling. Dominic didn't come to check on me. Not that night, and not for the next three days as I recovered in absolute isolation. I was nothing but spare parts to him.

On the fourth night, the eve of our supposed alliance ceremony, the door finally opened.

"I'm leaving," he announced coldly, checking his watch. "Gianna is traumatized by everything you've put her through. She decided to go back to London, and I have to go to the airport to stop her."

I sat up slowly, the pain in my leg a dull throb. "Tomorrow is the day you told me we were filing our marriage papers."

"I know," Dominic snapped. "I can't come. I'm sending her home, so you need to go to the civil registry and file the paperwork yourself. Consider marrying me a punishment for making Gianna leave again. Make sure you file it. Got it?"

He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving me in the dark once again.

I didn't reply. I just listened to his fading footsteps, a slow, quiet smile spreading across my face.

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly over the city.

I wore a simple, elegant white dress. I limped slightly as I walked up the marble steps of the civil registry, but I had never felt lighter in my entire life.

I pushed open the heavy double doors. Standing at the end of the aisle, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored black suit, was Lorenzo.

He smiled when he saw me, stepping forward to gently take my hand. "Ready to disappear, Bianca?"

"More than ready," I whispered.

We stood before the magistrate. We signed the papers. And with clear, unwavering voices, we exchanged our I dos.

Miles away, at the international airport terminal, Dominic was standing at the boarding gate, holding Gianna's luggage.

His phone buzzed in his pocket with a priority notification from the city's legal registry, an automated alert he had set up to ensure I filed our marriage certificate.

He pulled out his phone, a smug, satisfied smirk on his face, fully expecting to see his own name asserting his permanent ownership over me again.

Instead, he stared at the official digital document glowing on his screen.

CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE

Husband: Lorenzo Ferraro.

Wife: Bianca Ferraro.