I Was Never His Wife

Two months before the public ceremony Marco had promised would finally acknowledge me as his wife, he announced online that he was getting married. Everyone congratulated me. After seven years at his side, after I had helped him stabilize the Fontana family, crush three rebellions, and win enough votes to become the next Don, everyone assumed I was finally going to be his wife. So did I. Until I stopped outside a private room and heard his friends laughing. “Marco, your Donna selection list is insane. Twelve women, one ring, and you score them every month?” Someone whistled. “Right now, it’s down to Elena and that little nightclub girl you keep in your penthouse, isn’t it?” “What if you don’t marry Elena after all this?” another man asked. “She gave you seven years. She might lose her mind.” Marco laughed lazily. “Whoever performs best becomes my wife. Fair rule.” The room exploded with laughter. “Come on, you’re obviously favoring your little mistress. Elena can’t win if you keep giving that girl perfect scores.” Marco’s voice turned playful, almost amused. “I gave Elena the chance. If she still loses, she can only blame herself.” I stood outside the door, my heart going cold. After a long silence, I took out my phone and called my father. “Dad, I agree to come home.” “I’ll accept the marriage alliance arranged by the Commission.” Chapter 1 I didn't know Marco had been involved with Sofia Russo for three months until she walked into my office unannounced. She didn't knock. She set a black gift box on top of my files. Sofia had once worked at one of Fontana's nightclubs; lately Marco had arranged an internship for her at the family's charitable foundation. "Marco asked me to bring this to you." Inside lay a pair of cufflinks engraved with the Fontana crest. "He left them at my place last night." She touched the blue diamond at her throat, a piece from Marco's favourite jeweller. Then she slid her phone across my desk. The photograph showed Marco in his penthouse, collar open, two glasses of whisky beside him. Sofia wore his black shirt, the diamond resting against her bare collarbone. The timestamp read 1:17 a.m. Pain tightened across my chest, but I kept my face still. Marco and I had met at business school. When he returned to Sicily as one of the Fontana family's least favoured heirs, I followed him and became the family's investment adviser, hiding the fact that I was the daughter of the Mafia Commission Chairman. Seven years ago, he had taken me to the family chapel and placed a ring on my finger. Their attorney gave me a sealed marriage certificate and assured me the legal process was complete. I believed I was Marco's lawful wife, only awaiting the public ceremony. He promised that once he inherited the Don's position, he would give me a wedding the underworld would remember. So I helped him secure financing, ports, shipping routes, and the elders' votes. I stood beside him until he became the family's heir. Then, the night before, I learned about the Donna selection list. Twelve women. One ring. I was only a candidate, and my score was lower than Sofia's. Sofia took back her phone. "He's spent quite a few nights at my place this month. A Donna candidate has to prove she knows how to satisfy the future Don." I reached for an unsigned investment contract on my desk. "You are gentler than I am," I said. "You suit him better." I handed her the contract. Sofia lifted her chin. "Marco wants me to start learning the Donna's responsibilities." "Then manage this project." She opened the contract and stared at the figures and legal clauses. "What is this?" "The risk assessment is due in three days. You'll also need new terms for the banks and port authorities." "You're trying to humiliate me." "A Donna receives more than jewellery and a seat at dinner. If you want the position, carry its responsibilities." Sofia threw the contract onto the floor and pressed one heel against the page. "Stop pretending you don't care. Marco says you're too controlling. You question him in meetings and behave more like a consigliere than a wife." She lifted her chin again. "He needs a gentle, obedient woman, not someone who makes him feel as though he isn't the Don." Those words cut deeper than the photograph. Marco had once depended on my judgment. Now that he had power, he resented the same strength that had helped him obtain it. I glanced at the contract beneath Sofia's heel. "You're right." Triumph returned to her eyes. "Giving away something I no longer want to someone desperate to possess it is what I call generosity." "The contract is yours." "So is Marco." Her face darkened. "You're just a woman about to be eliminated." "If I've already lost, why did you come here wearing his clothes and his necklace, carrying a photograph you needed me to see?" I held her gaze. "What are you afraid of?" She grabbed the gift box and hurled it at me. I moved aside. The box struck the bookcase, scattering the cufflinks across the floor. Sofia came around the desk and raised her hand toward my face. I caught her wrist and slapped her. The sound cut through the office. She pressed a hand to her cheek. "You hit me." "That is the consequence of entering my office without permission, destroying project documents, and trying to strike me." I released her wrist. "You can have Marco and the Donna position." "But if you come here again, I will not be so restrained." Sofia collected her phone and backed toward the door. "You'll regret this. Marco will make you pay." She slammed the door behind her. I looked at the scattered cufflinks and the contract beneath her heel. The pain remained, but I understood the truth. Marco had loved my strength when it could win him everything. Now that his position was secure, he wanted me quiet and obedient, as though I had not been the one holding him upright during the climb. Chapter 2 Sofia did exactly what I expected: she ran straight to Marco. When he returned to the penthouse, I was packing. "Why did you hit her?" "She entered my office without permission, ruined project documents, and tried to strike me first." "She was only delivering something for me." "She finished the delivery and refused to leave." Marco frowned. "She just started at the foundation. She doesn't understand the family's rules yet. You're the chief investment adviser. You could have called security." "So she can destroy a contract worth tens of millions, and I'm expected to excuse it because she's young?" "I'll make her compensate the company." "Can she afford it?" "Do you have to speak like that?" "I asked a practical question." "That is exactly your problem. Everything becomes a calculation. You measure risk, assign value, and force everyone to meet your standards." His impatience was unmistakable. "Sofia is an intern trying to prove herself. She doesn't have your experience, and she can't handle the pressure you put on people." Years ago, Marco would have noticed the smallest change in my mood. Now a mark on Sofia's face mattered more than why I had struck her. "She'll sit beside me at tomorrow night's family dinner," he continued. "You'll explain the protocol and teach her how to deal with the elders and the other families." "You want me to train her?" "She works for the foundation. She needs to learn how this family operates." "She can't understand a basic investment contract." "That is why you'll teach her." He spoke as though seven years of experience and judgment could be handed to another woman because he had ordered it. "Starting tomorrow, she'll attend the investment briefings." "She doesn't have clearance." "She does now." Marco picked up the black access card from the dressing table. It opened the strategy room and represented my final approval authority over several major investments. I reached for it, but he slipped it into his pocket. "The archive will remain closed until her background check is complete," he said. "But I decide who attends the meetings." "So you didn't come back to ask what happened." "I came back to solve the problem." "By taking away my authority and giving it to her?" "Stop treating every decision as an attack." "How should I interpret it?" "As an instruction to stop using your position to exclude a new employee." The ports I had protected, the financing I had secured, and the rebellions I had helped him survive, all reduced to a position in his family. I closed the suitcase. Only then did he notice it. "Where are you going?" "To my own house for a few days." "Because of this?" "I need space." He blocked the door. "Don't make decisions while you're angry." "I'm calm." "Then unpack. We'll talk after tomorrow's dinner." "There's no need." When I reached for the door, he caught my wrist. "You never used to leave over something this minor." I looked at his hand. "You never used to decide I was wrong before asking what happened." He released me. "I didn't say you were wrong. I'm asking you to act more maturely." "I understand." I pulled the suitcase past him. Marco did not stop me again. He probably assumed I would return once I had calmed down. I did not tell him I would not. Two hours later, I moved into a townhouse I had bought in my own name. My father called while I was unpacking. "Were you serious when you said you were coming home?" "Yes." "The Ferrari family heard you may reconsider the alliance." "I'm coming home." "And the alliance?" "Give me one more day." He did not press me. He only reminded me that the Commission would always have a place for me. After the call, a banking notification appeared. One hundred thousand dollars had been transferred from my private account. Marco was the only person with emergency authorisation. In seven years, he had never touched it without permission. I called him immediately. "Why did you transfer one hundred thousand dollars from my account?" "It's compensation for Sofia." He answered without hesitation. "She has to attend the family dinner tomorrow. The money will cover treatment, styling, and emotional damages. It will also stop her from pursuing the matter." "You used my money to compensate her?" "I knew you wouldn't handle it, so I took care of it." His voice remained calm. "I'm protecting you. If this reaches the elders, it won't reflect well on you." Sofia's voice came through the phone. "Marco, should I wear the blue dress you like tomorrow?" He paused, then ended the call. I waited until my hand stopped trembling and sent him a message: Return the money within twenty‑four hours. Otherwise, I will file a formal complaint with the Commission for fraud and misappropriation of funds. Chapter 3 Marco did not return the money within twenty‑four hours. Late that night, Sofia sent me a contact request. The moment I accepted it, several photographs appeared. In the first, she sat beside Marco in the blue dress. The second showed two glasses of whisky with the Fontana family's Donna ring between them. Beneath the last photograph, she had written: Marco says he'll announce the latest scores tomorrow night. Guess whose hand the ring will end up on? I did not reply. I forwarded the photographs and the bank transfer record to my attorney, then revoked Marco's emergency access to my private account. The next morning, I went to the Fontana family's private club. The original marriage certificate and several personal legal documents were kept in the family safe. Since I had decided to leave, I intended to take everything that belonged to me. The manager told me the safe required Marco's authorisation. He was upstairs with several family members. As I approached the private room, laughter drifted into the corridor. "Sofia already has a perfect score. Are you really keeping the Donna competition open for another two months?" "The rules were announced," Marco replied. "The process will continue." "Everyone knows Sofia will get the ring. What happens to Elena?" "She'll continue managing the family's investments." "You expect her to stay?" "Why wouldn't she? She understands the banks, the ports, and the shipping companies. Keeping her inside the Fontana family benefits everyone." Another man lowered his voice. "She still believes she's Mrs. Fontana." My hand stopped on the door handle. "The marriage licence was never filed," Marco said. The room went quiet. "So the certificate was fake?" "The seal and registration number were real. The attorney simply never submitted the final documents. I told her the record had been sealed so our enemies could not trace her through public files." "You lied to her for seven years?" "At the time, I had not secured my position as heir." There was no guilt in his voice. "Elena controlled capital and could persuade banks and port authorities to work with me. She stayed because she believed we were married." "And now?" "Her abilities are still useful. But I will not give the Donna ring to a woman who makes me feel as though I am constantly being examined. Elena can manage the investments. Sofia is better suited to stand beside me." "What if Elena finds out?" "She won't." He laughed softly. "She's too proud. She would rather believe she lost to Sofia than question whether the marriage ever existed." I stood outside the door while the room seemed to recede around me. Seven years ago, Marco had placed a ring on my finger in the family chapel. The Fontana attorney gave me a certificate bearing a notarised seal and registration number and assured me that the legal process was complete. I believed them. I lived as Marco's wife, carried his risks, and placed every resource I could reach behind him. To Marco, the marriage had only been a way to keep me useful. I did not enter the room. Back in the car, I sent the certificate number to my attorney. Less than ten minutes later, he confirmed there had never been a record of our marriage in Sicily's civil registry. The number on the certificate belonged to a cancelled application. The Fontana attorney responsible had left Italy years ago. Marco and I had never been legally married. I opened my encrypted email. The first notice went to every bank, private fund, port authority, shipping company, and insurer working with the Fontana family. It stated that I had resigned as chief investment adviser and withdrawn every pending guarantee backed by my credit, capital, or professional relationships. Projects awaiting financing were to be suspended, and no transaction using my name remained authorised. The second thing I did was send an email to every company that had ever worked with Marco's family. From that moment on, Marco and I had no connection whatsoever. Every cooperation, investment, loan, shipment, and private guarantee made under my name was suspended immediately. As the daughter of the Moretti family chairman, I had been taught one thing since childhood. When a woman of my blood faced betrayal, she did not beg. She withdrew her name, took back her protection, and let the traitor face the consequences alone. Then I sent my father one message: The marriage alliance can be announced. His reply came almost immediately: When are you coming home? I looked at the sealed windows of the club's second floor and turned off my phone. Tonight.