I Married His Enemy The Day He Married His Mistress Chapter 01
The Man Who Took Three Bullets
Adrian Shaw took three bullets for me before he ever put a ring on my finger.
One in the back, one in the ribs, one at the base of his skull.
My name is Sienna Locke. The only heir to the Locke Family, East Side.
My father was the old Don, and when Adrian knelt before him, bleeding through his shirt from the third bullet he’d caught shielding me, my father finally gave in.
“One condition,” my father said. “Whoever marries my daughter carries the Locke name. The Family name dies with no one.”
Adrian agreed without hesitation.
He took the name, the Don’s ring, and the Books. Everything my father had built, handed over as my dowry.
The night before our wedding, mob war broke out with a rival Family in the South.
Adrian kissed me so hard my lips bruised. “Wait for me, baby. When I come back, I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”
Then he was gone.
Three years. Three years I raised our son alone.
When he finally came back, I brought our two-year-old son, Leo, to the desert outpost to meet him.
But Adrian stepped out of the car carrying a woman in white.
Pale skin, frail body, clinging to his neck like she’d collapse without him.
He told me she was a war orphan.
“Her family had been captured and slaughtered by the enemy. She’d risked her life to warn my crew, saved me from an ambush. I’d just taken her in as a… little sister.”
I believed him.
Then that night, I heard everything.
His men were laughing in the east wing, drinks clinking, voices loud. I stood outside the door and listened.
“That old man’s dead,” Adrian said, cigarette between his teeth. “Sienna’s got no one left but me. The ring’s on my finger. The Books are in my safe. I marry whoever I want.” He exhaled. “Besides, she already gave me a son. She’ll come crawling for a title sooner or later.”
I looked down on my empty hand without a ring.
The ring was only a decoration.
The soldiers swore to Locke blood, not to whoever wore the ring.
I was the only Locke left.
And my son could live without a father.
…
The men inside howled with laughter.
Someone asked, “But Boss, Miss Locke’s got that temper. If she finds out, she’ll burn the place down.”
Another one chimed in. “Yeah, she waited three years for you. What if she demands her place?”
Then came the soft voice. Vivienne Sinclair. “Adrian, darling, please don’t fight with Mrs. Locke because of me. I’d feel terrible.”
Adrian laughed, easy and unbothered. “Relax, baby. I’ve got it all figured out. She’s a spoiled princess, sure, but she won’t say no to a birthday party for Leo. We do the ceremony that day. Quick, quiet, signed and sealed.”
He pulled Vivenne closer. “By the time she realizes what happened, you and I will already be married. Legal. Done. She can throw all the tantrums she wants. Kid’s two years old already. She’ll swallow it and stay, no name, no status, forever.”
The room erupted. “Genius, Boss!”
“No wonder she fell for you so hard and waited three years like a good little housewife!”
Vivienne giggled, breathy and sweet. “Adrian, you’re so bad! You had me worried for nothing!”
“Let me make it up to you right now,” he murmured, and I heard him pull her close.
I turned away in silence.
I have been the Locke Family’s only daughter my whole life.
Every year of it, someone tried to end me.
Adrian took bullets for me. In the ribs, in the chest, in the back of the skull.
Every single time, he crawled up bleeding and pulled me into him and said the same thing. “Baby, anyone who wants to touch you goes through my body first.”
I believed that he loved me like his own life.
Turns out, like chocolate bars and my lipsticks, real heart has its expiration date.
The old me would have kicked that door open, smashed every bottle in the room, and put a gun to Vivienne’s head.
But I had Leo now.
Something inside me had shifted the day Leo was born.
And everything I couldn’t hold, I’d let go.
Sand slips through your fingers. You hold on to what matters.
I was halfway down the hall when the door opened behind me.
“Sienna?” Adrian’s voice, tight with alarm. “How long have you been out here?”