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My Husband’s Real Wife Novel Cover

My Husband’s Real Wife

When federal agents raid her art gallery for money laundering, she expects her husband, Alessio Valeriano, to clear her name. Instead, she discovers the anonymous tip came from him—and their marriage is a sham. Officially unmarried, she learns Alessio's legal wife is actually Bianca De Luca, the woman who threatened suicide on their wedding day six years ago. Facing felony charges, she must navigate a devastating betrayal and the dark secrets of the family she thought she belonged to.
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Chapter 2

Like a walking corpse, I staggered out of the Valeriano estate.

After my mother passed away, it was Alessio who stayed by my side day and night, helping me piece myself back together.

But our six years of marriage had been nothing more than an elaborate scam, and I had been played for a fool.

What did he even take me for?

The weight of his betrayal blurred my vision, making it impossible to see the road ahead. The screech of brakes tore through the air, and before I could react, a massive force slammed me to the ground.

I fought to stay conscious, but the darkness swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, Alessio's haggard face was the first thing I saw. Seeing me awake, a wave of relief and joy washed over his features.

He held me tightly, kissing my forehead and murmuring in a choked voice, "I almost lost you."

I felt a dampness on my shoulder. This man who held New York in an iron grip was crying, and for a fleeting moment, my resolve wavered.

Maybe everything I'd heard was just a nightmare?

So when he gently stroked my cheek, I didn't pull away. But that fragile hope was shattered by an unexpected visitor.

Alessio's consigliere, Marco, burst through the hospital room door.

"Don Valeriano, Bianca's been taken by a rival family! Our men lost them!"

Alessio shot up from the bedside, his expression hardening. "Something's come up with the family. I have to take care of it."

He offered a perfunctory excuse, grabbed his coat from the foot of the bed, and hurried out. As he did, the fabric swept a tray of surgical tools from the bedside table. A sharp blade sliced across the back of my hand.

The sting made me cry out. His footsteps paused for a second, but then he was gone, disappearing through the doorway.

Our tender moment was just a foolish fantasy. The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I wearily closed my eyes.

"Your tendon was almost severed. Where's your family?" the doctor asked as he stitched and bandaged my hand.

I thanked the doctor and then called my assistant, Camila Rizzo.

"Get me a new identity. I need to disappear."

The line was silent for a few seconds before she replied, "Sera, forging a new identity is complicated and irreversible. Are you sure?"

I gave a bitter laugh. "I'm sure."

I'm not just changing my identity. I'm erasing myself so he can never find me.

Not long after I hung up, Camila sent a text. "It will take about a week."

I didn't reply. After changing into my clothes, I went downstairs to sign my discharge papers.

I hadn't gotten far after settling the bill when I spotted Alessio in the hospital's chapel garden. I was about to confront him when I saw him suddenly open his arms.

Only then did I notice a girl in the distance, flitting toward him like a butterfly and throwing herself into his embrace. The look of pure relief on his face was something I had never seen in our six years together.

The force of the impact made them both stumble, but he wasn't angry.

Instead, he cupped Bianca's face, holding her tightly in that secluded corner.

"Alessio, I was so scared. Please don't abandon me."

"I won't," Alessio promised, steadying her in his arms.

"I'll make them pay."

Bianca's tears turned into a smile. She wrapped her arms around him, and her gaze flickered toward my hiding place. "Can you promise to destroy everyone who hurts me?"

His tightening embrace was her answer. "I promise. For you, I'll burn their world to the ground."

A sharp pain lanced through my chest, and I took a trembling step back.

It's okay, I told myself. Just one more week, and I'll never have to see this disgusting spectacle again.

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