Chapter 10
When Luca realized I was leaving New York, his eyes tracked me like a predator, never letting go.
“Come back to Jersey. You always had a thing for that lakeside mansion, didn’t you?” “I’ve already told my guys to-”
I cut him off mid–sentence. “Seriously, Luca? You actually think I’d go anywhere with you?”
Even if Grace was Hilary’s chess piece, the facts remained: Luca cheated, replaced me without
missing a beat, and drove me away.
Besides, Grace had fallen hard for their little romance. Hearing me speak, she squeezed my hand
with false sweetness. Smiling, she said, “Adora, when Luca and I tie the knot, we’ll make sure to save
you a seat.”
At these words, Luca’s breathing faltered. Standing half in shadow, his eyes turned cold and empty.
Just raw, unmistakable disappointment.
“We’ll see about that. Suddenly marriage seems like a fucking drag.” “While I’ve still got my youth,
might as well enjoy myself for a few more years.”
The moment he finished, Grace’s face went ghost–white. Reality check: life beside someone like Luca
Russo meant walking on a knife’s edge every damn day.
Maybe someday, she’d become the next Adora. The deepest love, eventually tallied and discarded
like a paid invoice.
I’d figured it out too. If not this Grace, there’d be another Grace. Sooner or later–Luca wasn’t built
for loyalty.
He would never willingly march into the prison of marriage and lock himself in. He was never my
endgame.
While Grace was having her meltdown with Luca, I’d already packed my bags. Where I was headed, I wasn’t planning to tell a soul.
:
While riding horses across the Kansas plains, my old crew from Jersey texted updates about Luca.
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Chapter 10
Apparently, after I bounced, Luca slammed the brakes on those fast–tracked wedding plans.
Grace nagged him constantly until he got fed up and kicked her to the curb.
During my months road–tripping across half the country, he’d make trips to New York every other day like clockwork.
Word was, he even threw down with Hilary. Surprisingly, Luca got his ass handed to him.
Hilary unleashed years of bottled rage on Luca’s face. Luca blamed Hilary for not “taking care” of me, for “letting” me leave. Hilary blamed everything on Luca for destroying my faith in love.
Alone, under the endless Kansas sky, watching cattle and sheep grazing peacefully in the summer pastures, I finally felt free.
Life is really just about following your gut. Whether today feels like sunshine or thunderstorms, just
roll with it.
Just like that day when I was eighteen, after discovering those paintings in the attic. Running from my home like the place was on fire.
Was I escaping a predetermined fate, or running from Hilary himself? It took me six months to work
out the answer.
And that answer was already packed in my suitcase for the journey home.
I still remember that foggy morning months later. Through New York’s thick mist, I pushed open that
rusty iron gate.
Hilary sat before his easel, surrounded by portraits of me. Sketch after sketch, documenting my ten
years in Jersey.
I never once spotted Hilary in Jersey–he must have been one hell of a ghost. Watching pathetically as Luca and I built our life together. Waiting pathetically for the perfect moment to orchestrate my
return.
For a moment, seeing me approach, Hilary thought he was hallucinating. He removed his glasses, his messy hair falling across his forehead. Bewildered, he asked: “Am I dreaming right now?”
My clothes were still dusty from travel, but I couldn’t hide my mischief. “Just shut up and hold me,
Hilary.”
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Chapter 10
He carefully stepped forward, arms outstretched. But he didn’t dare embrace me, just stood there
frozen like a statue. His eyes visibly reddened, his throat working nervously. “If I hold you… will you stop hating me?”
He made me laugh despite myself, my lips curving upward. “Hilary, I hate that you played me.”
Yet my heart still raced when I saw him, I still missed him like crazy. I still traveled thousands of miles just to see his face again.
If that isn’t some twisted form of love, then what the hell is?
Mafia Don’s plaything–Now I’m Riding the V–Card Golden Boy