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Luca had posted a statement on his Network account two hours ago.
In the video, he was dressed in a sharp, black three–piece suit–the kind he wore only when addressing important family. business. His expression was cold,
calculated, as he addressed the camera.
“Isobel is not my woman. We’ve known each other for years, and I’ve always treated her like family. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I’d appreciate it if everyone would stop spreading these baseless rumors. Comments like these don‘ t just
inconvenience Isobel, but they hurt Elena,
my fiancée. Your gossip could cause.
to
unnecessary damage both of them…”
After watching the video, my chest tightened, a mix of anger and disbelief stirring inside me. I wasn’t ready to deal
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with the fallout. My phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications, but I ignored them. I knew my work group chat was blowing up, but that was the least of
my concerns.
Just as I closed the Instapic, my phone rang. It was Sandro..
“Elena? Where the hell are you? Did anyone follow you home?” Vincent voice came through with urgency.
I expected a lecture, but surprisingly, his tone was more concerned than angry.
“I’m fine, Vincent. I’m at my parents estate, I replied quickly, hoping to ease his worry. “Luca’s video changes nothing. I’m still leaving, and I’m not getting back together with him.”
“Alright,” Vincent said, his voice softening. “I’ll make sure we prepare a statement in case the higher–ups or the
press try to spin this. Keep your head low, Elena. It‘ ll pass.”
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“Thank you,” I muttered before ending the call.
The silence that followed was suffocating. I cursed Luca under my breath. His video, well–intentioned as it might seem, could complicate things with the board- especially now that my decision to leave the family’s control was final.
Ping! Pong!
A notification popped up, jolting me from my thoughts. This time, it wasn’t from work. My stomach tightened as I saw the unknown number and the message
attached to it. How did they get this number?
Reluctantly, I opened the message. A video appeared on the screen, Luca’s familiar face staring back at me.
In the video, Luca, still in that same black suit, looked straight into the camera, his voice low and deliberate.
“Elena, if you don’t want Isobel near us,
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I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her away. You‘ re the one who matters to me. It’s always been you.”
The message cut off abruptly, leaving me with a sinking feeling.
I clenched my jaw. If he had said this months ago, maybe things would’ve been different. But now? After everything that had happened? His timing was always off, and I was done being his afterthought. No video or grand statement could change that.
I quickly recorded my response, my voice cold. “I’m not coming back, Luca.”
After hitting, send, I blocked the number, my resolve hardening.
I thought that would be the end of it, but Luca wasn’t the type to give up easily. He found ways to interfere, showing up in my life like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
At every opportunity, meals–elaborate, gourmet dishes–would appear at my
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doorstep. Delivered discreetly by his men, always under strict orders to refuse
returns. Luca knew my tastes too well, down to the smallest detail, using it as leverage.
My colleagues at the firm couldn’t stop commenting.
“Wow, Elena! Did Luca send this? The infamous Don is pulling out all the stops!” one of them remarked, their eyes wide at the sight of the delicacies I carried in.
“I told you, we re done,” I would say, frustrated. “He’s just trying to wear me down.”
But every time, I would quietly hand the food over to them.
“Take it,” I’d insist. “Better you enjoy it than me.”
“Are you serious? This stuff is top–tier!”
“Yes, I’m serious. Just eat it. I’m trying to stay focused.”
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It became a routine–Luca would send something, and I’d pass it off to others, trying to distance myself from his constant intrusions.
Finally, the day came when I was set to leave for Vesper City. The plan had been months in the making, kept secret from everyone except my parents and Sandro. I didn’t need more complications in my life.
“Attention, passengers on Flight 1529 to Vesper City, final boarding call. Please proceed to Gate 14,” the airport‘ s
overhead voice droned.
I grabbed my suitcase and made my way to the gate, breathing a sigh of relief as I boarded the plane. The isolation felt like a weight lifting off my shoulders. Settling into my seat, I pulled out a book, hoping to ease the tension that had built over the past. few weeks.
As the plane taxied down the runway, I closed my eyes, eager for a few hours of
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peace. Just as I began to drift off, a voice interrupted me.
“Miss, can I offer you a drink?”
I shook my head, eyes still closed. “No, thank you.”
Moments later, turbulence rocked the plane, jolting me awake. My heart raced as the captain’s voice echoed over the intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we‘ re experiencing some turbulence. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened.”
I pulled off my eye mask, glancing around nervously. My gaze locked onto a figure a few rows ahead, his head turned slightly toward the window. The cap and mask couldn’t disguise him.
Luca.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. How did
he know?
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