My Don Boyfriend Belongs to the Heroine

I was super clingy, always trailing after my boyfriend, Nate, like a lost puppy, constantly craving more of his attention. Tonight as I snuggled in his arms, pressing soft kisses to his lips as usual, I suddenly saw translucent comments fleshing across my vision, one after another. "Hasn't she noticed our Nate, the male lead, is trying his best to avoid her?" "Nate hates physical contact, especially with her. She can't seriously think he's with her because he loves her, right?” "Relax. Nate's true love, the heroine, is about to appear. Once she does, he's going to dump this stupid bitch so hard." My heart skipped a beat. The next second, I pulled away from Nate's chest. Nate glanced down at me. Something that looked suspiciously like irritation flickered across his face. “What’s wrong?" he asked. Chapter 1 Isabella’s POV I loved clinging to my boyfriend, Nate, and soaking up as much of his attention as possible. But then I saw those strange comments—claiming that Nate hated me, that his true love was about to appear, and that I was going to get dumped hard—I decided to keep my distance from him. “Why’d you stop?” The second I leaned away from his chest, Nate’s voice came from beside me. I'd just pulled away in the middle of making out with him. It wasn't that I didn't want to keep kissing him. God knew I loved kissing Nate and those soft lips of his. But right in the middle of it, strange words had suddenly appeared before my eyes, drifting through the air like comments scrolling across a screen. Every single comment said the same thing—that Nate, my boyfriend of three years and family friend of more than twenty, had never really wanted me. Soon, he'd meet the woman he was truly meant to be with and dump me without a second glance. I forced a smile. “I’m just tired. Why don’t we go to sleep?” Nate looked at me, his brows drawing together. For an entire year, I'd been the one glued to his side, making out with him almost every night. I'd even given our little nightly routine a name—our goodnight snuggle time. Usually, Nate would be the one to end it, reminding me that it was late and we needed to get some sleep. Of course he'd find it strange when I suddenly stopped tonight. But after a few seconds, Nate didn’t press further, he simply rolled onto his back. “Alright then. Let’s sleep.” I stared at his broad back and took a slow breath. Nate seemed completely unaffected by whether we made out or not. Maybe those comments were right. Maybe he'd been waiting for me to stop clinging to him all along. Turning onto my side, I edged closer to the edge of the bed, putting as much distance between Nate and me as possible. I used to love curling up against him. Falling asleep in his arms always made me feel safe, protected, and loved. But those comments … according to them, Nate hated being close to me. Maybe this way... if I put some distance between us first, he'd hate me a little less when he finally met the woman he was truly meant to be with. … After what it felt like forever, I still couldn’t fall asleep. My head was a mess. One side of it, I don’t want to admit those comments were true, one side…I couldn’t help but started to replaying how Nate and I were being like when we were together, the way Nate would subtly lean away whenever I got too close, and how his brows would furrow whenever I wanted more than a simple kiss. I was the one who pursued Nate. Our families had known each other forever. Both were part of the mafia world, so we'd practically grown up side by side. When I was six, I'd been crying my eyes out, and no one could get me to stop. Then Nate showed up. The moment I saw him, I ran straight into his arms and broke into the biggest smile. After college, I started pursuing Nate openly. By then, Nate had already taken over his family's casino business. People called him half a Don already, and everyone knew he had an even bigger future ahead of him. No one thought he'd say yes to me. I was just an heiress who'd grown up spoiled and sheltered. Nate was powerful, respected, and far out of my league. But somehow, Nate agreed. And just like that, he became my boyfriend. No one knew that when we started dating, Nate hadn’t been the boyfriend I'd imagined. He was dependable and mature, but he was also distant, even cold sometimes. He never rejected me when I wanted to hold his hand, hug him, or stay close to him. But he never seemed particularly excited about it either. It often felt like he was indulging me rather than wanting the same things himself. As for me, staying close to Nate had become second nature. When we were kids, I followed him around because he was like an older brother. After becoming his girlfriend, I followed him because he was the man I loved. If I could spend twenty-four hours a day glued to his side, I would. I was basically the dictionary definition of a velcro girlfriend. So I never felt discouraged when Nate was cold or distant. I convinced myself he was just shy, or maybe a little too rigid. I tried my best to show him how I wanted to be treated. I even lied and told Nate I was scared of the dark and terrified of ghosts just so I could move in with him. At first, Nate prepared a separate bedroom for me. But after weeks of shameless pleading, endless excuses, and refusing to give up, I eventually won. I moved into Nate's room, into Nate's bed. And for the last year, I'd fallen asleep beside him every single night. Every evening before bed and every morning when we woke up, I'd find an excuse to cling to him. Sometimes it was just a few kisses, a hug, or me curling up against his side. Sometimes it became something more, a heated sex. Those were the rare moments when I saw cracks in Nate's usual calm. His eyes would darken, his restraint slipping just enough for me to catch a glimpse of something raw underneath. I took it as proof that Nate liked me—that he wanted me and needed me just as much as I wanted and needed him. Now that I thought, maybe I had been fooling myself all along. Maybe that wasn't love at all. Maybe it was simply instinct—a man responding to a woman. Nate's first reaction had always been to create distance, to take a step back and leave a little more space between us. I had simply been too shameless to give up, too determined to stay by his side. I wanted him so badly that I'd ignored all the little signs along the way. Tonight, as those comments showed up. I knew I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Those hateful words forced me to admit something I'd spent years avoiding. My boyfriend—my childhood crush, the boy I'd loved for as long as I could remember—might never love me the way I loved him. A sharp pain settled deep in my chest. The more I thought about it, the worse it felt. Every memory that had once made me happy suddenly seemed different, like I had been reading the wrong story all along. I lay awake for hours, staring into the darkness, replaying everything in my head. By the time sleep finally came, it was well past midnight. Chapter 2 Isabella’s POV I woke up with a headache. I hadn't slept well at all. Last night, I dreamed that I was standing on one side of a road while Nate stood on the other, kissing another woman. I kept calling his name, but he never looked at me. For hours, I just stood there, watching him hold someone else for what felt like hours, crying so hard my chest hurt. When I woke up, I stared at the ceiling before realizing that I wasn't sleeping where I'd deliberately placed myself before bed. Sometime during the night, I'd ended up right back where I always was. In Nate's arms. My head was tucked against his chest, close enough to hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, holding me securely against him. Seriously, Isabella? One night. You couldn't even last one night. It was probably habit. My body had spent the last year seeking Nate out in my sleep, chasing his warmth and that familiar scent that always made me feel safe. Lowering my gaze, I noticed our legs tangled together, mostly mine wrapped around his. The memory of those comments immediately resurfaced. If Nate woke up and saw this, he probably wouldn't be happy. Carefully, I started pulling away. I eased my arm back first, trying to create a little distance between us, then I began lifting my leg from where it rested against his. Before I could move very far, Nate's hand tightened around my wrist. I froze. Looking up, I found him awake, or at least half-awake. His dark hair was messy from sleep, his eyes still heavy, but there was something alert in his expression. His brows pulled together. "You're awake already, Bella?" The question made my heart jump. I immediately pulled my hand back and planted both palms against his chest, putting a little space between us. "I just woke up," I said quickly. My fingers searched beneath the pillow until they found my phone. "It's already eight. I should get ready for work." Nate didn't answer right away. Instead, he kept staring at me, like he was trying to figure out what had gotten into me. I looked away first. Normally, I was the one begging for five more minutes in bed, the one trying to convince him to stay and cuddle. When had I ever volunteered to get up early? His hand still rested on my waist. The warmth of his palm seemed to burn straight through my pajamas. Then, as if my brain wasn’t torturing me enough already, the comments popped up again before my eyes, scrolling like a live stream. “Look at that idiot. She upset Nate first thing in the morning.” “Can’t she sleep on her own? Why does she have to cling to him all the time?” “Seriously. Who enjoys being smothered like that?” “Can’t Isabella have a sense of boundaries? That move to the edge of the bed last night was just another trick to get closer. If she really wanted distance, she should be on the floor.” “I hate how some women lower themselves like that, always chasing a man. Be independent, be attractive—like our heroine. No wonder Nate loves her. She’s nothing like clingy Isabella.” The words felt like daggers, slicing into my chest. And if that wasn’t enough, they twisted the knife again and again until my heart felt raw. Sadness, anger, embarrassment—it all tangled together inside me. They were right. Even after falling asleep, I’d found my way back to Nate’s arms. Even though I knew how much he hated it. “I…” I started, but before I could say more, Nate pulled me closer. His magnetic voice whispered right next to my ear. “We didn’t have sex last night. How about I make it up to you now?” I froze. Nate’s expression gave away nothing. Did he really want that, or was he offering because the old me would have begged him to? In the past, if Nate came home late and missed our snuggle time, I always made him make it up. Once, when I insisted, he’d said, “Bella, don’t you think some things can’t be made up?” I’d just pouted, cupped his cheek, and said, “If I say you have to make it up, you do. Or I’ll be really sad.” I even gave him the full-on crying face. After that, Nate gave in every time. He’d probably offered just now simply because he’d gotten used to it? And, shameful as it was to admit, for a brief moment, looking at that almost-perfect face and sculpted body, I wanted to say yes. But the comments came crashing back into my head again. Every spark of desire in my chest flickered out instantly. Don’t be fooled by Nate’s politeness. He was probably just doing what he thought he should. He probably didn’t even want this himself. I turned my face away, inching further from him. “Maybe another day,” I whispered. “I’m not in the mood right now.” Nate didn’t push. He got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. Just before he disappeared inside, I added softly, “About our snuggle time… I was so childish before. You don’t have to follow it anymore. I know you’re tired from work every day.” His steps faltered. His hand on the handle paused. But he didn’t turn around. “If that’s what you want,” he said, he even sounded a little relieved. I lowered my eyes, staring at the sheets. Part of me regretted about telling him to stop. I’d spent so much effort convincing him to agree to that routine. But another part of me…felt absolutely sad—my heart felt like it had shattered into a million tiny pieces. "This is necessary," I whispered to myself. Nate... he didn't like me. And his fate was to be with someone else. So why keep burdening him with my love and affection? Chapter 3 Isabella’s POV By the time I finished getting dressed, Nate was already downstairs, sitting at the dining table and eating breakfast. Normally, I would have pouted until he fed me a piece of bread, enjoying the way he took care of me. But today, I said nothing and sat at the opposite end of the table, all alone. Nate looked up as I took my seat, his expression unreadable. I grabbed a slice of bread and ate in silence. He finished breakfast far faster than I did. Since then, he had been watching me, quiet, his confusion barely hidden. “Is everything… alright?” he finally asked. “Of course,” I said, taking another sip of orange juice, forcing a small smile. “If you’re in a rush, you can go ahead. I can just grab a taxi.” Nate’s eyebrows furrowed deeper. He mumbled, “I can wait for you…” The conversation died, and the comments appeared again. But this time, the context had shifted. They weren’t talking about me and Nate anymore. They were talking about someone else—the beautiful, perfect heroine, Nate’s so-called true love. “If I remember right, today’s the day our male lead finally meets his true love—our one and only heroine, Alyssa.” “That’s right! Alyssa is Nate’s new recruit at the casino, a top financial graduate from NYU! Isabella could have her way with Nate, but compared to our heroine, she’s just a trophy wife.” “Exactly. Nate couldn’t even discuss his work with her. Isabella wouldn’t understand a word. But Alyssa? She can talk to him, really connect. True soulmates.” “Perfect compatibility. Our Nate dumbed himself down for Isabella, but with Alyssa? He doesn’t have to. She’s the smartest, sexiest, most beautiful girl ever!” My hand shook. The glass of juice slipped and spilled across the table. Alyssa. So that was her name. I forced my face into neutrality, though inside, a storm raged. I thought I had prepared myself for the idea that Nate might leave me someday. But hearing her name… hearing how they would treat each other… compared to how he treated me… it almost stole my breath. “Bella!” Nate’s voice snapped me back to reality. I hurried to wipe the juice from the table. “Sorry,” I said, trying to sound normal. “I… I was just thinking about something at work.” Nate leaned in, helping wipe up the spilled juice, his eyes flicking toward me again and again. I forced myself to stay composed, keeping my face neutral. … After breakfast, I tried to give Nate an excuse to leave first. “I need to change,” I said. “Papa said we’re expecting a big client today.” But Nate didn’t budge, “Go change. I’m not in a rush.” Normally, he was always in a hurry. The casino was busy, and I knew it. But today, he seemed… extra patient. After he drove me to the office, instead of unlocking the car, he turned to face me, helping unhook my seatbelt. “Bella,” he asked, his tone calm but certain, “Are you acting weird because you're upset? Did something happen that I don't know about?” I turned to Nate. For a moment, I had the urge to tell him everything. Then the comments appeared again. "Stupid Isabella. She better not think Nate is asking because he cares.” “That’s right. He's only asking because he follows a strict routine, and her weird behavior since last night has been confusing him." I took a moment to study Nate's expression. He looked calm, detached even. There was no concern in his eyes, only the desire to figure out whatever problem had disrupted his routine. My chest tightened. “No.” I whispered, looking away so he wouldn’t see my eyes, which had suddenly gone damp. “I’m just too tired recently. Work has been… a bit crazy.” Nate sighed, reaching for my hand. “Then why won’t you let me drive you to work? I know changing your dress is just an excuse.” My stomach twisted. I couldn’t say what I really wanted—“Because I know you don’t love me, and maybe today you’ll meet your true love and dump me tomorrow.” I stammered instead. “I… I think I’ve been a little too clingy lately. I should give you some personal space.” Nate’s hand tightened immediately, like he hadn’t expected that answer at all. I didn’t dare look back at Nate, so my eyes stayed fixed on the window. After a long pause, Nate sighed and retreated back into his seat. “Let’s talk about it later, alright? I’ll pick you up after work.” “I…” I started, but then I saw the comments. Nate would be driving Alyssa home today. Looks like whether I agreed or not didn't matter. Nate wouldn't be here anyway. So I said nothing at the end. … I'd been distracted all day at work. Thankfully, I worked at my family's company, so no one minded too much when I spent half the day staring at my computer without actually seeing what was on the screen. The comments never stopped. If anything, there were even more of them than last night. Through those floating words, I learned that Nate had met Alyssa. He'd complimented her achievements. He'd taken her out to lunch. It wasn't a date—at least not officially. Other people had been there too. But according to the comments, the chemistry between them had been impossible to miss. By late afternoon, as six o'clock approached, the comments became increasingly excited. "The drive-home scene is about to happen!" "This is a major turning point for Nate!" "This is where his feelings for Alyssa really start to change!" I stared at the words and laughed bitterly. Maybe that was how true love worked. No amount of time or history mattered. Nate had only known Alyssa for a day, yet it already sounded like he cared more about her than he ever had about me. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. Out of habit, I glanced through the front windows. A small, foolish part of me still hoped Nate would be there. But the parking spot was empty. My heart sank all over again. Of course it was. Nate was busy with Alyssa now, and he'd probably already forgotten about me. I stood there staring at the vacant space for so long that everything around me blurred. A car horn finally snapped me back to reality. I blinked and realized I was still standing on the sidewalk. Letting out a quiet sigh, I started toward the street, planning to hail a taxi. "Isabella!" I stopped and turned. A young man stood a short distance away, waving enthusiastically. "You are...?" I asked. His face looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him. Instead of looking offended, he smiled even wider. "Shawn Adams. We met at your family's party a few days ago." The name immediately clicked. The Adams family had recently moved to New York. At one of the city's mafia gatherings, I'd been introduced to Shawn Adams, their only heir. I vaguely remembered hearing that he was studying at Columbia. "Oh, right. Mr. Adams." "Shawn," he corrected immediately. Walking over, he extended his hand. “May I call you Isabella?” Chapter 4 Isabella’s POV “Of course,” I said, smiling as I shook his hand. “What are you doing here?” “My father was meeting with yours,” he replied. “But I got bored, so I’m leaving.” He studied me for a moment, then smiled. “Do you need a ride? You just got off work, right?” My first instinct was to say no. Since I’d been dating Nate, I’d made a point to keep my distance from other men. But then I thought of Nate—probably driving Alyssa home right now. Letting a gentleman give me a ride didn’t feel like such a crime anymore. I smiled. “If it’s not trouble for you.” “Not at all!” Shawn led me to a sleek, shining sports car parked across the street. “It would be a pleasure to give such a beauty a ride.” Before I could get in, another loud horn cut through the air. I looked up. Nate’s car had just pulled into his usual spot. He stepped out, and the moment his eyes landed on me, they darkened. Why did it feel like I was the one who’d been caught? I hadn’t done anything wrong. If anyone was at fault, it was Nate. He’d ignored me—his girlfriend—and driven some other girl home. Shawn noticed Nate too. “That man looks like he might murder me… is he your boyfriend?” Before I could speak, Nate answered for me. “Yes, I’m her boyfriend, Nate Hart. And you are…?” He extended his hand politely toward Shawn—but his face said anything but polite. Shawn froze for a beat, then a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Just a friend of Miss Vale,” he said, shaking Nate’s hand. “I saw her trying to catch a cab after work, so I offered her a ride.” Nate usually gave off a distant, domineering vibe. But when Nate was upset, that cold, domineering presence of his became ten times more intimidating. And right now, he was radiating it from head to toe. "Well, now that I'm here," Nate said smoothly. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me firmly against his side. "There's no need to trouble a friend anymore." Shawn didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. "Pretty lousy boyfriend behavior, if you ask me." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I saw Isabella standing out here for almost half an hour. Shouldn't you be on time when picking up someone you love?" Nate's eyes narrowed. The atmosphere instantly grew dangerous. I quickly tugged on Nate's sleeve. "Nate, let's go home." Then I turned toward Shawn. "Thanks, Shawn. Be sure to say hi to your father for me." Shawn flashed me a bright smile. "If you need me another day, you have my number." His gaze flickered deliberately toward Nate. "I'm always happy to help. You know, just in case your boyfriend is late again." The arm around my waist tightened immediately. Without another word, Nate turned me around and guided me toward his car. The moment we were out of Shawn's earshot, he leaned closer. "Sorry I'm late today," he said quietly. "Something came up at the casino." Hearing the apology, seeing the slight furrow between his brows, I opened my mouth, ready to tell him it was okay and explain that I wasn't actually upset about being late. But when Nate opened the passenger door, I froze. A faint feminine scent reached me first, and then I noticed a large pink stuffed rabbit sitting on the backseat of Nate’s car. My mind went completely blank. Every word caught in my throat. I couldn't force them out, couldn’t swallow them back down either. Who else could have ridden in the passenger seat of Nate's car and given him a stuffed rabbit he'd carefully placed in the back? Alyssa. It was one thing to hear about her through the comments. It was another thing entirely to see proof of her existence sitting inside Nate's car. In just one day, one single day, and she'd already entered his world and left something behind. And Nate really did treat her differently. He hated stuffed animals, yet he'd made room for hers in his personal space. Chapter 5 Isabella’s POV I remembered being twelve. Back then, I loved stuffed animals too. There was one teddy bear I carried everywhere. I slept with it, watched TV with it, even brought it along whenever I visited friends. One day, I took it with me to Nate's house. I'd been so excited to show him. Nate had only glanced at it before commenting that stuffed animals were childish. That was all. After that, I'd shoved the bear into the deepest corner of my closet. I never carried it around again, never brought it out in front of Nate. As I stared at the pink rabbit in the backseat, the comments appeared again. “Such a cute rabbit! Did you see the way Nate looked at Alyssa when she gave this to him?” “Look, Isabella must have guessed it. She knew Nate hated stuffed animals. She must have realized just how special Alyssa is to him.” “If you ask me, Isabella should get out of Nate’s sight so he can spend more time with Alyssa!” “Hahaha, I bet Isabella thought Nate was jealous when he saw Shawn. She even looked a little happy. But then she saw the rabbit and realized she was overthinking. Nate could never be jealous of her!” I swallowed hard, forcing the sting in my eyes back. “Isabella, don’t you cry now." If Nate wanted to be with Alyssa, it was his choice. Don’t cry over a man. But then again… this was the man I had loved for years, the one I’d had a crush on for as long as I could remember. I couldn’t stop him from drifting further away from me. At this rate… how long before he broke up with me? I couldn’t let it happen unprepared. I needed a plan—so that when it did, I wouldn’t look weak, embarrassed, or desperate. … After dinner, Nate had slipped away to his study as usual, buried in meetings and work. I, on the other hand, returned to our—no, Nate’s—bedroom to pack up my things. I moved most of my clothes and belongings into one of the guest rooms at the far end of the hallway. The farther we were apart, the safer I felt—who knew, maybe Nate have decided tonight was the night he would end things. I went to bed at ten, something I’d never done before. In the past, this hour had been perfect. Perfect for me to join Nate in his study, climb onto his lap, tug at his sleeves and convince him to stop working and to do something unspeakable with me instead. A shiver ran through me as my mind wandered again. “Don’t think about the past,” I warned myself. In the future, it would be another woman in Nate’s study and climb onto his lap. And it was none of mine business anymore. I tried to close my eyes and sleep. Then there was a knock at the door. “Bella, are you in there?” I nearly jumped out of bed. Another knock followed almost immediately. I rushed over, peeking out instead of opening the door all the way. “Nate? What’s wrong? Do you need something?” His eyebrows drew together, and he pushed the door wider with one hand, his presence tense. “What are you doing in the guest room?” I stammered, “Oh… I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, so I thought I’d move in here. That way I wouldn’t disturb you while you sleep.” I started to close the door. Nate’s hand didn’t move. His eyebrows furrowed deeper. His entire aura radiated displeasure, “Bella…” It was clear he didn’t believe me. Under his scrutinizing gaze, I swallowed hard and finally admitted the truth, my voice barely above a whisper. “I… I want to sleep by myself.”