Cheat On Me to My Face

I spend ten years helping my fiancé fight and claw his way to the top. Finally, he becomes the head of the local mafia.

But once he has everything, he falls for another woman. Suddenly, he wants nothing to do with the promise he made to marry me.

Just as he boasts about throwing her the wedding of the century, one of his men can't hold back his confusion.

"Olivia stood by you through everything. Weren't you crazy about her? And now you're marrying someone else?"

Joshua Harding snuffs out his cigarette, slowly turning the silver couple's ring he shares with Abigail Mauser between his fingers.

"Olivia?" He scoffs. "She's got blood on her hands. How could she ever compare to my sweet, innocent Abigail?"

The subordinate hesitates. "But Olivia's sharp. If she finds out and turns against you, then what?"

Joshua frowns before smirking coldly. "Belcove is completely under my control. It's not like I'll lose it without her around."

Little does he know I'm standing outside and listening to every word.

I drop the medicine I brought him into the trash and pull out my phone. I text his biggest rival, Michael Sheridan. "Want Joshua's turf and his life? I'm handing them to you!"

I was writing the permission slip for a speedboat to leave the island when Joshua Harding came looking for me.

"I've got a large shipment coming to the island the day after tomorrow. Bring some guys with you and oversee the pickup yourself. Also, clear out that house of yours. I need it."

Joshua was solemnly barking his orders at me, but I found the whole thing laughable.

He was asking me to risk my life for a shipment just so he could marry Abigail Mauser. As for my house, he wanted to let Abigail stay there, didn't he?

I hummed a curt acknowledgment, but my indifferent reaction made Joshua frown in displeasure.

"What's your problem now? I'm only choosing not to reveal your relationship with me because of how unstable the situation is. Michael Sheridan is keeping close tabs on everything. I can't possibly risk having all of our people let their guards down just for your sake.

"Right now, your most important task is to help me get away from Michael."

Joshua was used to keeping me under his thumb like that. In the past, I thought this was his way of protecting me. Because of that, I devoted my entire life to scheming on his behalf and achieving his goals for him. But now, everything felt like a cruel joke.

Handing him the permission slip for the speedboat, I responded coolly, "There's no problem. I'm used to this."

Joshua got a sense that something was out of the ordinary. Eyes flashing with annoyance, he scribbled his signature so hard that the pen broke through the paper.

"Olivia Cassidy! What's with that attitude, huh? All I did was ask you for your house. Everything on this island belongs to me, including your life! Do I not have the right to give you orders?"

After signing the permission slip, he threw it back at my face. "From now on, don't bother me over petty things like leaving the island for supplies. I don't have the time to entertain you."

I knew he misunderstood what the permission slip was for, but I didn't correct him. I gave him a detached nod before leaving. Once I spotted the speedboat that would soon be my getaway ride, I broke out into a carefree smile.

I spent ten years helping Joshua with his turf war. We were childhood friends, and we trusted each other with our lives. We were also lovers. All along, my dream was to marry him. He had also hinted to me that once he had all of Belcove under his command, he would give me what I want.

It took me until now to realize the truth. All of that had merely been a lie. Marrying Joshua was my fanciful delusion, and he used my feelings for him against me.

Joshua was about to marry someone else.

That night, a heavily armed group of mercenaries escorted Abigail to the island. Though she wore a white dress that fluttered in the wind, her seemingly innocent eyes were filled with smug arrogance.

"Olivia, you've spent over a decade working so hard for Josh. You've made a huge contribution! I'll definitely tell him to give you a promotion—and a few handsome guys to pick from! You should find someone to be with, too," Abigail declared.

"You're not at all like Josh. He's so eager that he can't wait any longer, you know. He insists on marrying me tomorrow."

I had to grip my gun tightly to stop myself from killing her.

"Let's go," I said.

After glancing coldly at Abigail, I started walking, but she stopped me. She took out a diary from her bag and said with a sly smile, "This contains all the sweet nothings Josh wrote whenever he missed me the last few years. It's weighing down my bag too much. Help me get rid of it, please, Olivia."

And with that, she strutted off. I stood there in the wind and opened the diary with trembling hands.

On April 12, 2024, I rescued him from an ambush. That same day, he wrote in his diary, "Abigail, if I survive this, I'll marry you."

On August 5, 2023, when I was informed that Joshua had been attacked by Michael during a run, I grabbed two machetes and charged in solo to save him. However, his diary entry read, "You were wonderful today, babe."

January 24, 2021, he had been taken into police custody, but I chose to take the fall in his place. He wrote, "If it had been you, Abigail, I would never have allowed you to suffer like that."

Every single word he wrote cut deep into my heart. It felt as if my heart were bleeding dry.

I'd asked Joshua countless times to marry me, but he would always kiss my forehead and say, "Wait a little longer, Olivia. I've got too many enemies. I'm always afraid I haven't done a good enough job to ensure your safety. Once I have all of Belcove under my command, I'll marry you, okay?"

He brushed off all of my pleas and urgings.

Just then, I got a reply on WhatsApp. It was a short message, but it sealed my fate. There was no turning back now.

"It's a deal!"

I tapped on my screen. I couldn't resist the urge to seek clarification for something. I asked, "Did you attack Joshua on August 5, 2023?"

I got a response within seconds, and the answer filled me with anguish.

"Certainly not! I'm innocent!"

Immediately, another message came in. "Hang on. Don't tell me that's why you came at me with two machetes in hand and hunted me down the streets like a dog. I didn't do anything!"

I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

I now knew that in Joshua's eyes, I was nothing but a clown—a pet he could toy with as he pleased.

Well, why should I stick around to be the object of their jokes?