Seven Years as the Don’s Wife, Only to Be Replaced

Serafina tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on me for a moment, as if studying my reaction. Then she softly insisted that Dominic walk me out.

When we reached the edge of the gravel drive, everything seemed calm for a brief second. Then, without warning, Serafina stuck out her foot.

I lost my balance instantly. My body tilted forward uncontrollably, and I fell straight into the rose bushes that lined the low stone wall of the estate garden.

"Bianca!" Dominic reached out reflexively, his hand extending toward me.

But in the very next second, Serafina let out a soft cry.

Without hesitation, Dominic turned away from me and moved to shield her instead. He placed himself between her and any possible harm, completely abandoning me.

I fell heavily into the thorns. The sharp rose branches pierced into my skin, scratching and cutting across my arms and legs. Pain spread instantly, sharp and relentless.

The muddy ground beneath me only made everything worse. My clothes were stained, my body aching as I struggled to push myself up.

When I finally managed to lift my head, the first thing I saw was Dominic kneeling in front of Serafina, gently wiping the mud off her shoes with careful, delicate movements. Two of his soldiers stood a few paces back, watching. Neither moved.

For a brief moment, he glanced at me. There was a flicker of guilt in his eyes, fleeting and almost nonexistent.

"Bianca, are you okay?" he asked. "I can take you to the clinic…"

Before I could respond, Serafina's eyes filled with tears. Her voice trembled softly. "Dominic, you promised to stay with me today."

She looked at him with hurt and vulnerability. "It's our anniversary. How can you leave me alone?"

Dominic hesitated, his gaze shifting between the two of us, clearly torn for a moment.

"I'll go to the clinic by myself," I said quietly, breaking the silence. "You're the Don. It wouldn't look good if you left the gathering early."

He seemed to relax instantly, as if my words had given him an excuse he needed.

"Alright," he said with a small sigh. "Take care of yourself."

Then he added casually, "I'll bring you your favorite pineapple cakes when I get home."

I almost laughed. Pineapple cakes had never been my favorite. They were Serafina's. But correcting him felt pointless.

No matter what happened, I was always the one left behind. The one who was sacrificed without hesitation.

Instead of continuing to wait foolishly for something that was never mine, I decided it was time to leave early, while I still could.

At the private clinic, the doctor carefully removed the thorns embedded in my skin, one by one. Each movement was precise, each pull bringing a dull, lingering pain.

It felt as though, along with those thorns, the love I had clung to for seven years was being pulled out of me as well.

By the time it was over, I felt strangely lighter.

The next morning, Dominic made a rare call to my burner line. His voice carried a hint of impatience. "Why aren't you answering your phone?"

"Didn't you block me?" I asked calmly.

There was a brief pause on the other end. Then he replied, "I'll be home in half an hour."

"I brought you fresh pineapple cakes and egg tarts," he continued, his tone softening slightly. "And I also bought a new alliance ring."

After a moment, he added, "I know I've wronged you these past few days. It won't happen again."

I glanced at the time, my expression calm and unmoved. "There won't be a next time for us," I said quietly.

Unfortunately, he had already hung up before hearing my answer.

There were still three hours left before noon.

I walked over to his laptop and opened it. One by one, I tried several passwords, each one failing.

Until finally, I typed in Serafina's birthday. The screen unlocked instantly.

I sat there in front of the computer, waiting. Half an hour passed. Then an hour.

When I picked up my phone again, I saw that Serafina had posted a new update.

She was sitting in the passenger seat of Dominic's car, their fingers intertwined. Both of them were wearing brand new rings, shining brightly in the photo. Alliance rings. The kind that meant a blood promise had been made.

My thumb drifted to the pale mark on my ring finger. I held it there for a moment, feeling the bare skin where his seal had once sat.

Then I let my hand fall back to my side.

I smiled faintly.