All the noise vanished at once. Through the glass, I saw Damian stiffen. His body locked, his movements halting mid-motion. He shoved Scarlett away and scanned the room, panic flashing aBlack his face.
“Elara…” His voice was different now-tight, unsettled. “Why would you ask something like that? Where… where are you?”
My chest felt like it was splitting open.
“Don’t do this,” he rushed on. “Don’t overthink it. The wedding is in a week. You’re the only woman I love. You know that.”
The only one.
“I’m dealing with some urgent family business right now, baby,” he continued, spinning lies with the same tenderness I once treasured. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll come to you when I’m done, okay? Tomorrow we have the final fitting for your dress.”
I remembered his voice, warm and proud: My princess deserves the most beautiful dress in the world.
Now I understood. He could discuss wedding plans with me while touching Scarlett without missing a beat. What kind of training did that take? What kind of heart stayed that cold?
“Okay,” I said. My voice was eerily steady. “I’ll wait.”
It was the last lie I would ever tell him.
I ended the call before he could answer. I had heard enough-of him, of her.
I walked back to my car, my fingers locked around the steering wheel until my knuckles burned white. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, just like they had when I was seventeen, trapped in that alley.
But this time, there was no Scarlett to save me.
This time, Scarlett was the one who cut me.
Tears smeared the road ahead into streaks of light. Brooklyn’s industrial sprawl loomed around me-grime, violence, backroom deals whispered in the dark. Yet none of it felt as filthy as the rot spreading through my chest.
I wanted to drive away. To escape. To erase this night.
But my hands trembled too hard to turn the key. My vision blurred until I could barely see the dashboard. I sat there, breathing through the pain, forcing myself to calm down.
By five in the morning, the shaking finally stopped. My tears had dried into a dull ache. I was ready to leave this place forever.
That was when the club’s heavy steel door creaked open.
Several men stepped outside, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, laughter loose and satisfied. They were relaxed. Amused.
I recognized every one of them.
Alexander-Damian’s right-hand man, always polite, always calling me Signora. Vincent-the family accountant, who once discussed stock trends with me over dinner. Nicolas-Damian’s cousin, whose wife volunteered with me at charity events.
I had thought they were my people.
“Looks like the boss likes his women with more fire,” Alexander chuckled, exhaling smoke. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed in there all night and pushed the meeting back.”
“A princess like Elara is for appearances,” Vincent said casually, flicking ash away. “Not for pleasure. Too clean. Too proper. Bet she’s ice-cold in bed. The boss is still a man-he needs flavor.”
Nicolas laughed loudly. “Scarlett’s the real thing. That girl knows how to play. I hear she’s game for anything. No wonder he can’t get enough.”
Their words sliced straight through me.
So that was what I was.
A display piece. A polished ornament. Something pretty and empty.
And Scarlett-she was the thrill. The appetite. The secret everyone shared while smiling at me to my face.
They all knew.
While I worried about Scarlett’s safety, they laughed about my ignorance. While I promised Damian I’d be waiting, they enjoyed the performance. While I imagined myself becoming the Grayson matriarch, they whispered about how dull I was.
Then the door opened again.
Damian and Scarlett stepped out together.
Scarlett’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy with satisfaction. They looked effortless. Intimate. Like two people who had just shared something real. She swung her leg over her motorcycle. Damian followed, his hand sliding to her thigh, lingering on skin I would never bare in public.
The touch was tender. Familiar.
It made my stomach churn.
Like lovers saying goodbye.
In that moment, I flicked on my headlights.
The sudden blaze caught Damian full on. He squinted, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. When his vision cleared and he saw me sitting in the driver’s seat, all the color drained from his face.
“Elara…”
The word left him as a whisper.
And this time, there was nowhere left to hide.
