He Made Me His Mistress So I Became His Widow

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo—my fiancé. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

The smile froze on my face.

Marco immediately tried to step on the wedding photo.

"Shit, how did Elena's picture get in here?" Tony blurted out.

Elena? So that woman's name was Elena.

"Tony, shut up!" another man quickly interjected.

But it was too late. I crouched down, hands trembling as I picked up the marriage certificate. New York State, Lorenzo Moretti and Elena Rossi, dated—six years ago.

Six years ago. But Lorenzo and I had only been together for five.

I straightened up, holding the certificate, staring at Lorenzo in bewilderment. He stood frozen like a statue.

Marco glanced nervously at Lorenzo and said quietly, "Don, we thought... you'd already handled this situation."

What else was he hiding from me?

"Don Lorenzo, perhaps we should step out," someone said respectfully.

"You all knew she existed, didn't you?" My voice shook.

No one answered.

"Everyone out." Lorenzo finally spoke, his voice low.

His men silently filed out of the room, leaving Lorenzo and me standing face to face with the evidence of his real marriage scattered on the floor.

"Ava, let me explain—"

"Explain what?" I waved the marriage certificate, feeling my voice tremble. "Explain that you have a legal wife? Explain what I am to you?"

Five years. I thought we'd been in love for five whole years, when I was nothing but an interloper.

"Elena is only my wife on paper. You're the woman I truly love." He stepped toward me. "It's an alliance between two families, about territory and business. I have no feelings for her whatsoever."

"A family alliance?" I stepped back, something breaking in my chest. "Then why didn't you tell me? Five years, Lorenzo! Every time you said you were 'going home to see your parents' or 'handling family business,' you were really going to see your wife, weren't you?"

"Yes, but you should understand my position. Going against the famiglia's rules is betrayal. You should know the consequences of betrayal." His tone became self-righteous, as if I were the unreasonable one. "I thought an intelligent woman would understand—"

"Understand what?" My voice rose. "How to be a proper mistress?"

"Don't say that," he frowned, his tone reproachful. "Do you know how many women would be willing to accept this arrangement?"

"Lorenzo," my voice began to shake, "what did you just mean? Are you saying... there are other women?"

"I only love you." He took my hand, feigning tenderness.

"That's bullshit!" I angrily jerked my hand away.

"So what do you want?" he asked coldly. "For me to go back right now and ask Elena for a divorce? Destroy the alliance between two families?"

I opened my mouth but couldn't make a sound.

"You're being too extreme. After the wedding, you'll be my woman. My children will only come from you."

His tone was like he was making some kind of concession, some kind of charity.

"I've given you more than I've given any other woman. Don't be greedy, Ava. Content people live longer."

"Get out."

Lorenzo paused. "Ava..."

"I said get out!"

Rage erupted like a volcano. I grabbed the wine glass from the coffee table and hurled it at the wall with all my strength. Glass exploded behind him, shards flying everywhere, one piece slicing across my palm.

Blood dripped onto their wedding photo.

"You're insane!" Lorenzo rushed over to check my wound.

"Don't touch me!" I pushed him away. "Five years, Lorenzo! Five whole years I thought you were single! Do you know how stupid I feel? Every time you went on 'business trips,' I worried about your safety, I waited for you to come home!"

My voice grew louder and louder, tears streaming down my face.

Just then, Lorenzo's lieutenant burst through the door:

"Don Lorenzo, Elena's having another episode—" He stopped short, seeing me standing amid the blood and scattered photos, his face instantly changing.

I watched him panic, trying to take back his words, watched the alarm flash across Lorenzo's face, and suddenly understood everything.

In Lorenzo's entire world, I had never existed. I was just a secret, something that couldn't see the light of day.

Lorenzo immediately said, "Tell her I'm on my way."

He turned to me, trying to explain: "Ava, she's not well—"

I said nothing.

Lorenzo grabbed his coat, already heading for the door. I looked at my still-bleeding hand, then at his urgent retreating figure.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me, my stomach churning violently.

"Lorenzo." I called out to him.

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"If you dare walk out that door, we're done!"