I Married The Don 3 Years While He Kept His Mistress 7 Years Chapter 12
It took me three full days to get settled with just one cat and one dog.
The shelter had never been big, but I’d run it well over the years, and I’d managed to save some money.
I sold a few pieces of the jewelry I’d brought with me—that added up too.
In Lorenzo’s world, it probably wouldn’t even cover the cost of one window in his estate.
But for me, it was more than enough.
I thought about finding a normal job. Something steady. Nine to five.
But every time I passed a stray on the street, I couldn’t help myself.
So I took a breath and went back to what I knew.
Only this time, I was alone. No one else to worry about.
I found the space myself, painted the walls, built the shelves, ordered the supplies—everything.
I didn’t dare use the name Aurora Greco anymore.
The business license just said A. Conti.
I was scared the Greco name would scare off the landlord. And even more scared it would lead Lorenzo straight to me.
A week in, I was already running on empty.
There were too many strays to help, too many trips to the vet. I burned through three cards in no time.
So I started filming. Just small clips of daily life at the shelter, posted online.
At first, maybe a few dozen views. Nothing much.
Then one night, my account exploded.
I opened it up—and saw a set of photos Chiara had posted.
Her and Lorenzo, pictures going back seven years, laid out in order. Hotels. Studies. Private planes.
In some of them, Lorenzo was just a back or a wrist. But you didn’t have to look close to see how close they really were.
Chiara tagged me directly in the caption:
[Aurora Conti. Name your price—I’ll pay anything. Just give me back my child’s father.]
She wrote that they’d been together for years, then some broke noble girl they’d helped came in and stole him.
That I’d schemed my way in, sweet-talked Grandma into making Lorenzo marry me.
That he never loved me.
That I’d dragged out the divorce because I wanted more money.
That she was pregnant. That her baby needed its father.
That she’d sell everything she owned to buy me off, if I’d just let go.
The video went up at midnight.
By early morning, my account was all over the internet.
The comments came in like a flood.
[bitch.]
[gold digger.]
[go die.]
[whore.]
Every ugly word you could think of—thrown right at me.
I stared at the screen, my chest tight, my hands cold.
Then I turned off notifications and called the police.