3

Gianna pov

We arrived at Marco’s mansion soon after.

"Dad!" The girl from Marco’s secret photo album rushed forward, calling him. She looked up at Marco while he was clearly shocked.

He turned to me, his face filled with guilt. "I used to help take care of her after her parents were gone.”

I nodded, offering a reassuring smile, "She looks just like you. For a moment, I almost thought she was your daughter.”

"What’s her name?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Violetta.”

Just as Marco turned and started wheeling me away, Violetta began to cry, calling out for him. Marco’s face turned pale, his brows knitting in concern.

"I’m fine," I said softly. "She’s probably just nervous from seeing me for the first time.”

My words seemed to ease his anxiety. He scooped Violetta into his arms and hurried inside, while I wheeled myself slowly behind.

As I entered Marco’s mansion, a maid hurried toward me, "Miss Moretti, may I escort you to the living room? Mr. DeLuca is in his study right now.”

I smiled politely, shaking my head. "Thanks, but I can manage on my own.”

The least I need was another spy sent from Marco.

As I passed a room, I overheard a conversation between a couple of maids.

"Why did Mr. DeLuca say his daughter was an orphan?”

“I heard that Mr. DeLuca planned it that way. It was the only way to bring Violetta into the DeLuca family without people calling her a bastard child.”

“So he mad Miss Moretti adopt his child with another woman so the daughter can be legitimate?”

"Exactly. So don’t let Miss Moretti suspect anything.”

"Ugh... I told you, our real lady of the house is Miss Santoro. Mr. DeLuca was so in love with her. Can’t you see the lovey-dovey bubble when they’re together? I bet they’re kissing right now in his study.”

A "lovey-dovey bubble," huh?

I turned toward Marco’s study, a sense of curiosity gnawing at me. If Marco had faked his persona the entire time he was with me, what was he like in front of Camilla?

The door was slightly ajar, and Marco’s voice drifted through the crack.

"Did he treat you well?”

"He’s... alright. He never comes home, but I suppose that’s a good thing. Means he won’t find out about us and Violetta.”

"You know, Marco," Camilla’s voice continued, "he even asked me to give him a child. Can you believe that?”

"Don’t talk like that, Camilla," Marco’s voice sounded strained.

Camilla was married, and Marco—what was he doing? Playing the role of the third wheel in someone else’s marriage, while making her the third wheel in ours?

Where had the arrogant, domineering Marco gone?

“Once I get Violetta back, you won’t have to worry about any of this,” Marco murmured, his voice low but unmistakable. “I’ll handle everything for you two.”

“You’re the best, Marco.”

Then came the sound of rustling fabric. "Take it. A small gift.”

"Ouch, another Cartier bracelet! You really are spoiling me, Mr. DeLuca. If Gianna finds out, she’ll throw a fit.”

So, I’m supposed to throw a fit? Well, maybe I will. But it won’t be for the reasons you think. The man you adore so much, the one you went all the way to replace his bride, the one you’re willing to share with me—Camilla, I don’t want him anymore.

You can have him all to yourself.

As I turned my wheelchair around, I bumped into a maid coming my way. She was carrying a tray with two steaming cups of tea.

“Miss Moretti, are you here to see Mr. DeLuca?”

The door had opened, and the moment it did, Marco’s eyes locked onto mine. His face drained of color, panic flashing across his features.

“Gianna, what are you doing here?”

“I was just on my way to get you. Look who’s here—Camilla. Turns out she knew my friends, too. She’s been helping take care of Violetta, and she was the one to bring Violetta here today. Quite the coincidence, huh?”

Camilla stood up, cradling Violetta in her arms, and flashed me a smile. “Long time no see, Gianna.”

I returned the smile, keeping my voice steady.“Hey, Camilla. It’s been a while. Still busy catching up with someone else’s husband, I see?”

Her eyes immediately flashed with fury.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Violetta clung to Camilla, burying her face in her neck.

“Relax, you two, I’m just joking.” I glanced toward Marco, smiled. “I’ll be downstairs. You go ahead and catch up with Camilla.”

As I headed toward the stairs, Marco rushed to catch up. “Gianna, don’t overthink this, okay? Violetta’s very close to her—that’s why she calls her ‘Mommy.’ You won’t misunderstand a child’s innocent words, will you?”

The way Marco tried to defend Camilla, twisting this into me overreacting, made me almost chuckle out loud.

How shameless he could be. He had torn my heart apart just so he could bring his mistress and their bastard child into our lives. And now, he was acting like the innocent one?

I wanted to tell him I knew everything—that I wasn’t about to play along with this charade any longer. But I bit my tongue. It would be pointless to spill it all now. It would only give him the chance to throw more of his nonsense my way. And frankly, I’d had enough.

So, I adjusted my smile—perfect as ever—and said, “Relax, Marco. I’m not overthinking anything. I know you love me. Go take care of Violetta and Camilla. I’ll be just fine.”

Marco seemed relieved, as if my words had put him at ease. He wheeled me back downstairs and headed off to his study.

Sitting on the sofa, I noticed the maids passing by, their eyes full of pity. But honestly, I couldn’t care less. My focus was on my phone, deleting every account I owned and negotiating the sale of properties under my name.