Guilty of Being His — The DeLuca Physician

After a long silence, I finally answered. Okay. When news of our marriage broke, all of New York was stunned. Everyone assumed Adrian had married me just to get back at Bianca.

The wedding took place at St. Michael's Church. Generations of DeLucas had been married and buried there when the priest asked Adrian if he would take me as his wife. I do.

Bianca's eyes turned red in the pews. She suddenly stood and walked out of the church under everyone's gaze. I looked at Adrian. He only smiled at me.

He didn't even turn around, as if he had never loved her at all. Adrian treated me well after we married. He gave me a position as his personal assistant. From then on, we were together almost every day.

I didn't know then that we were already running out of time. I once asked why he insisted on keeping me so close. He leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile. You really expect me to leave a wife as beautiful as you home alone?

I'm not that stupid. I knew he was teasing me again, so I let it go. Five years in prison had ruined my health. Even a common cold could leave me burning with fever for days.

Adrian put me under the care of the DeLuca family's private physician, and slowly, my health began to improve. Once, I got sick enough to be hospitalized. Adrian sat beside my bed and held my hand.

You're a DeLuca now. Your safety, your life, is my responsibility. So you don't get to die before me, Evelyn. It didn't sound like a request.

It sounded like an order from the heir to the DeLuca family. And the look in his eyes told me he wasn't joking.