My Husband and His Other Wife

In the third year of our marriage, I suddenly received a wedding invitation from my own husband, with the bride being my cousin, Lina.

Following the address on the invitation, I flew to America. However, the moment I arrived, I saw my husband, Marco, the youngest Don in Italy, wrapping his arm around Lina as they toasted together.

Fireworks burst across the sky, forming both of their names. Inside the chapel, his men laughed and joked.

“In Italy, he married Aurora, and in America, he'll marry Lina. The Don really gets the best of both worlds!”

“But didn’t he say he didn’t feel anything for Lina?”

Marco’s deep voice cut through the noise. “I really didn’t, at first. To me, she was just a kid, but she pursued me for years. She never cared how cold I was, and she even stayed by my side for the two years I was paralyzed, taking care of me. Even if my heart were made of stone, I couldn’t stay unmoved forever.”

The two years he was paralyzed…

So during those years, while I was out in the desert, eating sand and sleeping under the open sky, fighting exhaustion just to gather rare medicinal extracts to treat his injured spine, my husband had begun his romance with my cousin.

I wiped my tears, pulled out the divorce papers Marco had signed when he first got hurt, and added my own signature. If devotion can’t compare to someone simply staying by his side, I don’t need a man who can betray me so easily.

After signing the divorce papers, I dialed my mentor’s number.

“Professor Mary, about that research project in the Arctic—the one developing a new drug—please add my name back to the team.”

Mary’s excited voice burst through the speaker. “You’ve changed your mind? That’s wonderful! The military will send someone to pick you up in ten days. But Aurora, I have to remind you again. Once you join this mission, your personal information will be erased. Your husband… with his extreme need for control… will he agree?”

Hearing her concern, I froze for a moment. Marco really did have an overwhelming possessiveness toward me.

We grew up together. The Vitale family was always busy with mafia affairs, and the previous Don raised Marco by his side. However, no matter how chaotic things got, Marco always made time to see me.

As I was a light sleeper by nature, he searched the entire world for bedding, personally testing everything just to find what helped me fall asleep fastest.

When he learned that my stomach was sensitive, he trained with the family chef for two months and woke up two hours early every day to make me a special meal that wouldn’t upset my digestion. When I turned twenty-two, he lit up the sky with fireworks and drones, spelling out his romantic confession.

Naturally, I fell head-over-heels for the man who was both domineering and tender. I really believed my fairy tale had