Bound by blood and betrayal

An outsider,” they called me. “A woman just there to clean up after the real players.”

Their voices used to sting, cutting through me like a blade honed just for that purpose. I used to let their words weigh me down, let them make me doubt my worth. But not anymore.

Seven years ago, I had been just as young, just as full of life as Lorenzo. I had been a different person. That was before my world came crashing down. Before my parents were taken from me in a car crash, leaving me and my ten-year-old brother to fend for ourselves. He had leukemia, and I was just a desperate girl willing to do anything to keep him alive.

I dropped out of school. I worked night shifts, cleaned floors, served drinks, anything that would pay for his medical bills. And when that wasn’t enough, I did what so many desperate women before me had done—I stepped into the shadows of a nightclub, playing a role I never wanted.

That’s where I met Lorenzo.

I was covered in blood the first time I saw him, my own blood. Some drunken client had decided I wasn’t worth the money he’d spent and shattered a bottle against my forehead. The pain had been blinding, but worse than the pain was the humiliation. I had hit rock bottom.

And then, just as I thought I would drown in the misery of it all, a hand reached down, pulling me out.

Lorenzo DeLuca.

He wasn’t just a businessman, like the public believed. He wasn’t just rich—he was powerful, dangerous. The kind of man you didn’t cross.

And that night, he made me an offer. seven million in exchange for seven years of my life. A contract marriage.

I had agreed without hesitation.

He had been clear from the start—this was a business arrangement. He needed a wife with no past, no connections, someone who would look good on paper but wouldn’t make waves. I wasn’t to be seen in public unless necessary. I was given two days a week to leave our penthouse. Other than that, I was his ghost wife, living in a cage made of gold.

At first, I didn’t mind.

At first, I thought I loved him.

But Lorenzo never touched me. He never let me into his world. He never even let me step foot in his bedroom. And when I finally did, when my curiosity got the better of me, I realized why.

There had always been someone else.

Sienna.

She had always been there—his next-door neighbor, seven years younger than me, a girl who had been in his life long before I ever came along.

I had been blind. I had been foolish. And now, I was done.

Yesterday had changed everything.

Yesterday, when I had seen Sienna waltz into Lorenzo's private suite—the one he had never let me enter—I knew. I knew it was time to leave.

“Valentina.” Lorenzo's voice pulled me back to the present, his tone edged with irritation. “You’ve been staring off into space for seven minutes. What the hell is going on in that head of yours?”

I turned to face him, my expression unreadable. “You called me useless, right?” I asked, my voice eerily calm. “Maybe it’s time I get a job.”

Lorenzo arched an eyebrow. “A job?”

“A housekeeper, a maid.” I shrugged. “I’ve spent seven years locked in this penthouse. I haven’t broken any laws. Am I supposed to waste away here forever?”

Lorenzo didn’t reply immediately. His sharp gaze locked onto mine, assessing, calculating. But before he could speak, Sienna’s voice chimed in, sickly sweet and dripping with mockery.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she purred, stepping into the room.

She was wearing a dress I recognized instantly.

A brand-new couture piece. One Sienna had purchased months ago and had locked away. A dress that had never been worn. A dress I had assumed was meant for me.

But now, it was on SIENNA.

Lorenzo's eyes softened slightly as she twirled in front of him, the fabric swirling around her like she belonged in it. “I didn’t expect you to know my size so well,” she mused, flashing him a smile.

Lorenzo reached for her hand, his usual mask of indifference shifting just slightly. “They look amazing,” he said, nodding. “As long as you love them, I’ll buy you anything.”

And then, right there in front of me, he kissed her.

It wasn’t the kiss that broke me. I had seen him with other women before. I had endured their presence in my home, their voices in my space. No, it wasn’t the kiss.

It was the way Sienna pulled back, a flicker of shyness in her expression as she whispered, “There are others here…” Her gaze flickered to me, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

And then she asked the question.

“Do you think the dress Lorenzo chose for me looks good?”

It was a taunt. A final, deliberate jab meant to cut deep.

I stared at her for a long moment, my heart hammering in my chest, my emotions threatening to boil over.

But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

I forced a small smile, keeping my voice steady. “They’re stunning.”