The Don’s Wrong Bride: Now He’s Obsessed With Her

Gianna’s POV.

The dark sky erupted with blinding lights as hundreds of firecrackers burst into the air.

I stood near the wall-to-ceiling window, watching the fireworks with stunned eyes because this… watching fireworks had been my favorite thing since childhood.

And tonight, it was my husband who was making it happen.

But not for me.

It was for his first love, Naya.

For her birthday.

The news had been running the story on a loop all evening—how Leone Romano, the wealthiest man in the country, had bought out every fireworks display in the city for his girlfriend’s birthday and had even ordered them to keep the sky lit until dawn.

The news anchor had called it the most extravagant birthday celebration the city had ever seen—the richest man in the country spoiling his girlfriend.

Then came the part everyone was talking about—my biggest nightmare.

Leone was reportedly planning to marry his longtime girlfriend.

Marry her?

How?

He was already married to me—Naya’s younger sister, Gianna Valenti, the fat, unwanted outcast of the family.

However, Leone had never acknowledged our marriage publicly. He never took me to an event, a gala, or any celebration where other wives stood proudly beside their husbands. I was always left at home, waiting for him like a dutiful, loyal wife while he traveled around the world with a different woman on his arm, making headlines in every newspaper and tabloid.

The world didn’t even know I existed. Only a handful of people in our family circle knew I was his wife.

When I married Leone, I never imagined my life would become even worse than it had been in my parents’ home.

My own parents had never liked me. They always said I didn't look like a Valenti. I wasn't charming or attractive, and I certainly didn't know how to carry myself the way Naya did.

My whole childhood was spent growing up in her shadow. I was constantly told how to sit, how to stand, how to walk, not to eat too much, to learn how to dance, and even how to apply makeup and dress properly. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never become like her.

She had the perfect figure, beautiful features, and a natural confidence that made people notice her the moment she walked into a room. She always knew how to dress, how to behave, and how to make people admire her.

When she became Leone's girlfriend, my parents were overjoyed. To the world, they were the perfect couple.

Then, five years ago, Leone was brutally attacked during a gang war and fell into a coma.

Naya abandoned him without a second thought. She wasn’t about to waste her youth waiting on a man who might never wake up.

But I stayed.

I believed he would recover and wake up. When his doctors eventually gave up, claiming he was beyond saving, I refused to accept it. I dropped out of school, threw away my dreams, and devoted every second of my life to him. I spent months searching for rare herbs, remedies, and holistic therapies to supplement his care. Day after day, I sat beside his bed—talking to him, massaging his useless muscles, holding his cold hand, and praying for a miracle.

After a year of unrelenting effort, my devotion paid off. He woke up.

His mother and sister wept with joy, celebrating his return. Yet no one acknowledged the endless nights I had spent beside his bed, refusing to give up on him.

Still, I didn’t care.

He was alive. He was awake and healthy. That was enough for me.

Only his grandmother, Grandma Caroline, seemed to truly see me. Months later, when she became bedridden, she asked Leone to fulfill her last wish and marry me. He eventually agreed, and that was how I became his wife.

But it didn't take long for me to realise that he hadn't married me because he wanted me. He had never truly accepted me as his wife. Every cold word, every distant gesture, and every night he kept his distance reminded me that our marriage was nothing more than an obligation. Perhaps he had only agreed out of duty. Perhaps even pity.

I had tried everything to get close to him. I had made an effort to start conversations, suggested that we have meals together, and even planned outings for us. But every time, he had come up with an excuse to avoid me. My attempts at conversation had been met with nothing more than one-word answers.

Then came the news reports about his latest fling. It seemed there had been a new woman in his life every month, and the tabloids had never let me forget it.

My dream of having a happy, normal marriage had slowly fallen apart. Every time I had seen Leone photographed with another woman, something inside me had broken a little more. Their affairs had been splashed across newspapers and tabloids for everyone to read, while I had been left to bear the humiliation of being his wife.

I would go back to our room and cry alone, wondering how much longer I could keep waiting for a man who might never love me. But Grandma Caroline always coaxed me into believing that one day, Leone might finally see me.

Not the girl everyone taunted for her body. Not the daughter her family treated like a disappointment.

Me.

Gianna.

His wife.

She said when Leone truly got to know me, he might eventually love me too.

But it turned out I was an idiot to believe fairytales were real.

Real life isn't a storybook.

A girl like me—fat, unattractive, and always treated like the family disappointment—was never going to make a handsome prince fall in love with her.

And when Grandma Caroline was gone, I had lost my only support too.

Then Naya suddenly came back, and Leone chose her.

He was always going to choose her.

I looked at my faint reflection in the window. My fat, shapeless figure, hollow eyes filled with sadness, and disheveled hair stared back at me.

I had given up on trying to look beautiful a long time ago.

What was the point when I had never been the woman Leone wanted?

I could never be enough for him.

Maybe that was why he was with Naya tonight instead of me.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened loudly, making me jump.

I instinctively turned around, only to find my husband entering and closing the door behind him.

What?

Wasn’t he supposed to be celebrating Naya’s birthday?

Before I could stop myself, the question slipped from my mouth.

“You came home?”

His stormy grey eyes narrowed in clear annoyance.

“Why? Were you expecting someone else?”

“No…”

I stammered, trying to find the right words as he walked toward me, his overwhelming presence making me tremble under his sharp glare.

“I just… I thought…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence when he pulled a box from the inner pocket of his coat and dropped it into my hand.

I blinked in confusion, but he simply turned away without any explanation, removed his coat, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What’s this?” I murmured, not even realizing I had said it out loud.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, his expression hard.

“Your anniversary gift.”

“My… gift?”

I stared at him in surprise.

He turned back to unbuttoning his shirt.

“Take it and stop making a fuss. I have better things to do than listen to you complain.”

I barely heard him. My mind was still processing the fact that he had brought me a gift for our third anniversary.

Oh yes, today was our anniversary!

Even I had forgotten, but… he remembered?!

With hesitant fingers, I popped the latch open. The massive diamond necklace inside caught the light, making me stare. In a daze, I lifted the necklace from the box, completely forgetting that the box had slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor.

Wait...

Wasn’t this the piece they had been talking about on the news this morning?

It was called The Azure Rose, named for the enormous 20-carat blue diamond at its center. Surrounded by flawless white diamonds and ultra-rare pink stones set in platinum, it had once belonged to an old Italian noble family before vanishing into a private collection for decades.

When it finally resurfaced at auction, Leone had fought off three billionaires to claim it, dropping $60 million—making it the most expensive jewelry purchase in world history.

And according to every report, he had bought it as a birthday gift for Naya.

“Wasn’t this for Naya?”

The question slipped out, barely more than a stunned whisper.

He turned sharply toward me, leaving his shirt partly unbuttoned and his bare chest exposed. The scowl on his handsome face remained, the furrow between his brows deepening as he looked at me.

“Aren’t you happy you got it?” he asked, his voice laced with disdain. “Isn’t money the only thing you care about?”

His gaze dropped to the necklace in my hands before returning to my face.

“You should be happy, Gia. Sixty million dollars. Isn’t that enough to satisfy you?”

His eyes mocked me, raking down the length of my body with a look that wounded far deeper than any physical weapon ever could. He averted his gaze as if the sight of me repulsed him, turning back toward the mirror to resume unbuttoning his shirt.

"Now do what a good wife is supposed to do when her husband comes home."

My fingers tightened around the box, the sharp edge of the velvet digging into my palm.

I had waited three years for this marriage to become something more. I had endured everything—humiliation from his family, rejection from my own, his affairs, and all the times he had looked at me as though I were a charity he had been forced to accept, a burden he had no choice but to carry.

I had put up with every pain, every hurt, every cruelty, holding on to one fragile hope: that maybe, one day, he would change. That he would finally see me as more than an unwanted fixture in his house. That he might actually love me. That he would treat our marriage as a real marriage, not as a duty or obligation he had accepted out of gratitude for my staying by his side while he was in a coma.

But now Naya was back.

And after hearing him announce that he planned to marry her, whatever little hope I had left was completely shattered.

So I finally said the words I never thought I would say to the man I had loved with all my heart, long before I ever became his wife.

“Since Naya is back, let’s get a divorce.”