Once Upon A Promise

A fortune-teller once told me that my husband would betray me in the seventh year of our marriage.

Looking at Mario Brasco—his eyes filled with nothing but me—I couldn't help but scoff at the fortune-teller's words.

Everyone knew Mario loved me enough to give up everything.

When I caught a simple cold, he abandoned a multimillion-dollar mafia deal and flew home just to be by my side.

When I was kidnapped, he took three bullets rescuing me, yet never once thought of giving up.

When my sister confessed her love to him, desperate enough to end her own life, he turned her down without hesitation and forced my father to send her overseas.

But on the seventh anniversary of our marriage, I received an unexpected email from an unknown sender.

After reading it, I asked Mario for a divorce.

A fortune-teller once told me that in the seventh year of my marriage, my husband would abandon me and fall in love with someone else.

Back then, Mario Brasco, still young and hot-headed, kicked the fortune-teller's table over and snapped, "Nonsense! I would never do anything to betray Alessia."

Years later, he became the Don whose name alone made others tremble. Yet to me, he was the man who loved me to the bone, who couldn't bear to see even a frown on my face.

For six years after our marriage, he spoiled me like a child. But the fortune-teller's words lingered in my mind like a curse that refused to fade.

My father's illegitimate daughter, Carmilla Marino, kept clinging to Mario—so persistently that she once confessed her love to him in front of me and tried to kill herself.

Disgust flickered across Mario's face as he forced my father to send her abroad.

After that, I finally allowed myself to relax.

But on the seventh anniversary of our marriage, I received an email from an unknown sender. Inside was a medical report—Carmilla's, showing she was two months pregnant.

Beneath it was a single line of text: [Alessia, Mario gave you his love, but he gave me his child.

Scrolling further, I found a photo—Mario and Carmilla tangled together on a bed, lost in passion.

It felt like plunging into an icy abyss.

I waited for him in the living room all night, but Mario never came home.

I printed the divorce papers and placed them neatly on the table.

By dawn, he finally returned. When he saw the medical report on the computer screen, panic flashed across his face. He slammed the laptop to the floor.

"Alessia, listen to me," he said, voice trembling. "Carmilla faked those photos. Nothing happened between us. You have to believe me. She's still angry that I forced her to go abroad. She's doing this just to break us apart."

His tone was desperate, almost convincing. But I could still see the lipstick stain on his collar.

I stared at him in silence, disappointment sitting heavy in my chest.

"Alessia, I'll call her right now.