Chapter 9
I knocked and pushed open the study door. Hilary sat behind the desk, frameless glasses perched on his nose. His gentle facade had been stripped away, revealing something sharp and unapproachable
beneath.
I stared for a moment, suddenly realizing: Everything I thought about Hilary Lynch–that he was gentle, rigid, rule–following- might have been completely wrong.
“Give me your phone, Hilary.”
He froze for a second, then handed it over without protest. My fingerprint unlocked it instantly.
As my fingers brushed the edge, I caught the faint scent of cigarettes. Hilary had meticulously erased
all evidence.
Except for one photo of me in his gallery. Back when Luca and I were broke as hell.
Luca had gotten his leg broken in a fight. I was carrying him, step by painful step, to the hospital. My white sneakers had turned yellow and soaked through. My jeans bulged awkwardly, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. One look at that picture, and you’d feel your heart crack.
Just like the day Grace appeared in front of me.
Before leaving New Jersey, I’d had someone investigate why Luca had gotten tangled up with Grace. He’d been in New York on business when he ran into his rivals. They were armed–it was Grace who threw her oversized school uniform jacket over him, pretending they were a couple, saving his life.
They said Luca stood frozen outside Grace’s school afterward. A pile of cigarette butts grew at his
feet.
From that day on, he came back planning to go legitimate.
Grace was from New York, wearing the same blue and white uniform I once had, right down to the
worn toes of her shoes.
The moment I saw that photo, I knew. Luca’s affair wasn’t random–it was a carefully orchestrated play.
Hilary pushed his glasses up his nose. “She works for me.”
Mom The Dieling the U Card Golden Boy
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Chapter 9
Sent specifically to insert herself into Luca’s life.
My fingers curled inward as I stared at him, shocked.
“Have I become distasteful to you again, Miss Rockefeller?”
Though phrased as a question, it sounded more like he despised himself.
The first time I went up to Hilary’s attic, I discovered a room full of portraits–all of me, from every
angle.
His smile was faint, even as he sat there, sketching my features with a pencil, his forehead burning
with fever.
He said, “No one else is as perfect a subject as you, Miss Rockefeller.”
Hilary’s desire for me had been evident from the beginning.
The year I left New York, the last person I saw was him. He’d chased me all the way to the bus station, only stopping when I said: “I hate you, Hilary.”
He froze in place. Like he was trapped in an invisible cage, standing his ground as he told me: “You
may hate me, Miss Rockefeller.”
The second part was too quiet–I’d forgotten it for years.
Now it suddenly thundered in my mind: “But you’ll eventually return to me.”
And I had, hadn’t I? Finally returned from New Jersey to New York. Back to face the man I’d tried to
escape in my youth. His love–too intense, too direct, yet too controlled.
I frowned, pressing my lips together, unsure what to say.
Hilary’s slightly reddened eyes betrayed his true emotions. He wasn’t as composed as he’d planned
to be. He wasn’t certain that after learning the truth, I’d still want to stay.
“You know what happens when you deceive me, right?”
Hilary leaned against the bookcase, his lips pale. “How will Miss Rockefeller punish me, then?”
Hilary was like some fragile, beautiful piece of crystal. Hurting someone like him always felt
unnecessarily cruel.
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No More My Mafia Don’s Plaything–Now I’m Riding the V–Card Golden Boy
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Chapter 9
In truth, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d simply revealed a reality to me earlier than it would have revealed itself. Ended my delusion of being in love.
Rather than punishing Hilary, perhaps I should punish myself.
“Hilary, I’ve told you before.”
“I make my own choices.”
I refused to walk a path chosen by someone else.
I wanted to choose my own way forward.
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