

To fulfill the Bet-on Agreement, I pretended to be a nobody and interned at my husband Evan Grant’s company for a week. On my first day at work, I ran into a woman waving a Marriage Certificate around at the front desk like she owned the place. “Do you even know what a marriage certificate means? It means I’m the only one for Mr. Grant! “Why are you standing so lazily? Is your spine weak, or do you just not see me? Lower your head! Keep it down until Mr. Grant arrives! “Is the cafeteria food terrible? I’ll have the Michelin chef spice it up for you!” I was about to step forward when a colleague grabbed my arm. “She’s Mr. Grant’s First Love,” they whispered. “I heard he proposed a hundred times before she finally said yes…” The colleague nodded toward the certificate and warned me kindly: “The worst that happens if you offend Mr. Grant is you might get fired. But offend Mrs. Grant… and you’ll vanish completely.” I nearly laughed out loud. I pulled out my phone and called my brother. “Lucas, get Evan here. Bring the divorce papers too. I want to see him on his knees begging me within five minutes.”

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

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