My Husband Made Me Carry His Mistress’s Child

On my wedding day, the day the Valente and Greco bloodlines were meant to be joined, my betrothed Marco Greco broke the alliance.

In front of every made man and matriarch gathered in that church, he took Bianca Falcone's hand and announced, loud and clear, that she was the bride he actually wanted to marry.

My father, the old Don Valente, was so enraged that his old illness flared up on the spot. They rushed him to a Family-controlled clinic, but nothing could save him, and he died.

In the darkest hour of my life, only one other man from the old bloodlines stayed by my side, Lorenzo Bianchi.

He comforted me, encouraged me, and pulled me out of the lowest point of my life.

In the end, I married him.

Seven years of marriage. We treated each other with respect and tenderness, the model couple every Family in the Territory envied.

When I got pregnant, I thought I was the happiest woman alive, about to become a mother.

Until the night before the Christmas sit-down, when I happened to see the messages on his phone with a man he trusted.

"Lorenzo, if Adriana Valente ever found out that the baby in her belly is actually your child with Bianca Falcone, how heartbroken would she be!"

"Don't forget, seven years ago, you and Marco already hurt her once."

Lorenzo sent back a careless little smiley face. "Relax, she'll never find out."

"Last time I told her it was just a small procedure. Everything at the clinic is already handled by our own people. There's no way it'll come out."

"Bianca's health is fragile. A pregnancy would be too dangerous for her."

"Once the baby is born, I'll cut off all ties with Bianca for good."

"I'll spend the rest of my life loving Adriana properly. Consider it my way of making it up to her."

I was trembling all over, tears sliding down my face.

So seven years of a loving marriage had all been an illusion.

Lorenzo was no different from Marco. The one he loved was never me. It was Bianca Falcone.

Since he didn't love me.

I would simply step aside on my own and let them have each other.

……

Not long after I set the phone back exactly where it had been, Lorenzo came out of the bathroom.

I lay in bed, pretending to watch the television.

A familiar wave of his cologne drifted toward me, the scent of expensive leather beneath it.

Lorenzo gazed at me with tender affection, his hand settling on my slightly rounded waist.

"Adriana, it's been hard holding back all these days, hasn't it?"

His voice was low and suggestive, and just as his warm lips came down toward mine, I pushed him away.

Lorenzo looked utterly taken aback.

"Adriana, what's wrong?"

In all our years of marriage, it was the first time I'd ever refused him, so he was stunned.

I answered flatly, "I just don't want to hurt the baby."

His expression eased a little. "I already asked the doctor. The baby's stable now. We just can't be too rough."

He leaned in again, his eyes full of tenderness.

The old me would have already melted, unable to help herself.

But now, my whole body felt like it was soaking in cold seawater, unable to feel the faintest warmth between lovers.

Lorenzo was my husband, yet the baby in my belly was his child with another woman.

The thought of it twisted like a knife in my heart.

I pushed him away a second time. "Forget it. I'm too tired today. I'm not in the mood."

Lorenzo didn't press further. He nodded. "You must have had a long day. Let's turn in early, then."

He switched off the television and the lights, lay down, and wrapped an arm around my waist.

It was his favorite way to sleep, and before long he was out.

But my mind raced, and I couldn't sleep a wink all night.

Deep in the night, once Lorenzo was completely under, I slipped out of bed, went to the study, and opened his laptop.

In seven years of marriage, it was the first time.

It took no effort at all to find the folder he'd deliberately buried.

I opened it, and inside were photos packed one after another, at least a thousand of them.

Tokyo, Paris, Istanbul……

Different backgrounds, and in every one of them, Bianca Falcone and Lorenzo held each other, sweet and close.