
A New One Every Three Days
A New One Every Three Days Chapter 1
Before the wedding, Alessio survived a vicious family turf war.
He didn't die, but he "forgot" me. Now, any mention of our wedding brought on a splitting headache.
The family's private doctor said it was post-traumatic stress, that he had developed an alternate personality.
Just as I discovered I was pregnant, the doctor said, "Perhaps the arrival of a child could awaken the part of him that loves you so deeply!"
I went to him with the pregnancy test, my heart full of hope, only to overhear a secret plot between him and his men:
"Alessio, you're a fucking genius. Faking a new personality for one last hurrah before the wedding! What's next, a third? A fourth?"
"No. I love Colette, and this will be the only time I ever lie to her. Before the wedding, I'm going to work my way through every woman the rival families send over. It's time to show those old Dons who's really in charge."
"Just that? The Gallo girl has a whole playbook. I say milk this for another year. It's not like your little artist is going anywhere."
His face turned to ice as he berated his Soldato.
"I won't make her wait that long. Now, hurry up and make the arrangements. Start with the one from the Gallo family. A new one every three days. But nothing delays my wedding to Colette!"
My hands trembling, I shredded the pregnancy report and scheduled an appointment at a private clinic.
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1
When the doctor saw me return, his brow furrowed with concern.
He was stunned when he learned I wanted to have an abortion.
"You two tried so hard for this child. Are you sure you don't want it? This could make Alessio's condition even worse!"
I shook my head, a bitter smile on my lips.
"If I told him the truth, he'd probably have an actual breakdown."
After all, he was still caught up in his sordid games, reveling in his newfound, consequence-free freedom.
I couldn't wrap my head around how the man who once cried and begged me to be his wife could cook up such a cruel lie.
The doctor couldn't persuade me, but fearing the Rizzo family's influence, he insisted on calling Alessio just as I was about to sign the consent form.
"Miss Lemoine, this child isn't just yours. Even if his illness makes him say he doesn't want it now, he should be here. To sign the forms, to be with you. If there's some misunderstanding, you two can clear the air..."
I rested a hand on my stomach and didn't stop him this time.
It was a miracle I had conceived at all, given my PCOS.
Alessio never cared about that; he had defied the family elders just to marry me.
Since I was giving up this child, he should at least be here for the final goodbye.
But the moment the doctor started speaking, Alessio scoffed.
"How much did Colette pay you to stage this little drama? I told you, I don't know her, let alone have any plans to marry her!"
"Do me a favor. Tell her to stop playing these cheap tricks to trap me into a marriage. Who's to say the kid is even mine?"
The dial tone buzzed, his heartless words echoing in the silent clinic.
I signed the form and closed my eyes.
When I woke up in the recovery room, there were several messages on my phone.
All from Alessio.
【Whatever we were is over. Stop wasting your energy bribing doctors to trick me and get your stuff out of my penthouse.】
He was even "thoughtful" enough to have his men rent a furnished apartment for me in the same district.
To make the act convincing, he'd even had his men sign a one-year lease, paying the first month's rent upfront.
【Consider it a courtesy for old times' sake. You don't have to pay me back.】
I glanced at the blood-stained gauze on the nightstand and replied calmly:
【Okay, thank you.】
I'd consider the rent his final contribution to the child he'd never know.
In the three days after the procedure, he didn't contact me again.
Meanwhile, his private Instagram, the one only I could see, became a daily showcase of his debauchery.
It was as if he was trying to claw back all the wild years he thought I'd cost him.
I knew he posted them just for me.
On his regular private account, the one his friends followed and I peeked at with a burner, there was nothing.
So, just as he wished, I liked every single video.
When I went to handle my discharge paperwork, I ran into him and a doctor rushing a gurney down the hallway.
The moment our eyes met, he looked straight through me, as if I were a ghost.
But I clearly heard the paramedic barking orders:
"Get OR 1 ready with O-negative blood! The patient has a ruptured corpus luteum and is hemorrhaging. She needs an emergency transfusion and surgery!"
"What? The blood bank is out?"
The paramedic hung up and quickly informed Alessio.
The man who had just ignored me suddenly stopped and strode toward me.
"Colette, if you donate blood for Portia, I'll overlook you stalking me."
I was completely stunned.
"I wasn't stalking you..."
"Enough excuses! A life is on the line!"
He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the doctor.
"She's O-negative. Take as much as you need!"
I struggled with all my might but couldn't break his grip. I could only sneer.
"You said you don't know me. So how do you know my blood type is 'the golden blood'?"
I stared him down, waiting for an answer.
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