Chapter 10
Lorenzo De Luca–my once–ruthless husband, the same man who had thrown divorce papers in my face, humiliated me, and replaced me like I was nothing–was now crawling back.
And he didn’t even know it yet.
“Victoria,” his voice was lower than usual, rough with something unspoken.
I looked up from my desk, feigning surprise. “Yes, Mr. De Luca?”
His fingers drummed against his desk, frustration evident in the sharp set of his jaw. He’d been avoiding me for days–probably trying to convince himself that he wasn’t drawn to me. That I wasn’t invading his mind, his dreams, his weakness.
him.
He exhaled, leaning forward. “Dinner. Tonight.”
I raised a brow. “Business or pleasure?”
His gaze darkened. “Does it matter?”
A smirk curled my lips. He was slipping.
I tilted my head, pretending to consider. “I don’t date my boss.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re not just my secretary.”
I hummed. “Then what am I, Mr. De Luca?”
For a split second, he hesitated. And I saw it–the conflict, the war inside
He had betrayed me. Ruined me. Replaced me.
And yet, here he was, chasing a ghost.
He cleared his throat, standing abruptly. “Seven o’clock. I’ll send a car.”
I let him walk away, but my smirk deepened.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
***
I sat across from him in the private dining room of the most exclusive restaurant in the city. The ambiance was draped in warm candlelight, the scent of expensive wine and indulgence thick in the air. Before me, a stunning bouquet of deep red roses and an elegantly wrapped box–Cartier, if I had to guess.
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He had pulled out all the stops,
I smiled sweetly, twirling the stem of my wine glass. “You’re spoiling me, Mr. De Luca.”
His dark eyes locked onto mine. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
The man who once tossed me aside was now desperate to keep my attention. He had no idea I was playing him.
He leaned forward, his gaze dipping to my lips. “Do you like the necklace?” I ran my fingers along the diamond–studded chain resting against my collarbone. “It’s beautiful.”
He smirked, pleased. “Only the best for you.”
The most expensive wine. The finest cuisine. The ruthless king of New York’s underworld catering to me.
I had won.
Then, in the quiet lull of our dinner, a familiar voice murmured into my ear. “Careful with your game, Valeria. You might fall for your husband again.”
Darius.
I pressed my fingers against my earpiece, suppressing a laugh.
Lorenzo’s brows furrowed. “What’s funny?”
I shook my head, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Nothing.” I tilted my head playfully. “I like you, boss.”
His expression darkened with something almost primal–something possessive. He leaned in, his voice a low growl. “Say that again.”
My smirk deepened. “I like you, boss.”
His grip on his wine glass tightened, the corner of his mouth lifting in satisfaction. He was thrilled, hooked, completely under my spell.
Then his phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
And again.
I sipped my wine, watching the irritation flicker across his face before he finally picked up. “What?”
A broken sob echoed through the line. “L–Lorenzo–something’s wrong. I’m
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bleeding.”
His fingers twitched around the phone, but instead of panic, there was something else in his gaze–annoyance.
“Then call a doctor,” he said coldly.
My brows lifted in amusement. Ah. So he was done pretending, was he?
Isabella’s cries turned desperate. “Lorenzo, please! It’s the baby-”
He hung up. Just like that.
I almost laughed.
Instead, I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his ear, my voice silk and poison all at once. “Go to your wife, Lorenzo.”
His hands gripped the edge of the table. “No.” His voice was firm. “It’s our date.”
I pulled back just enough to let him see the teasing glint in my eyes. “How devoted,” I murmured, sipping my wine.
Then my phone rang.
I didn’t even have to check the caller ID. I already knew.
Right on time.
With a slow smirk, I answered. “Darling,” I purred, lazily twirling my wine glass.
“Where’s my husband?!” Isabella’s voice was a sharp, venomous shriek.
I exhaled dramatically. “Oh, Isabella. He’s with me, of course.” I glanced at Lorenzo, who was watching me with dark fascination. “But don’t worry–I’ll let him go now.”
I leaned in close, brushing my fingers along his jaw, letting my lips hover just a breath away from his. “Go,” I whispered. “Let’s schedule our next dinner date, my love.”
His eyes burned into mine, torn between obsession and something dangerously close to surrender.
As he finally stood, reluctant yet bound by my words, I smiled.
Checkmate.
***
I arrived at the hospital an hour later, slipping into the shadows as I
watched Lorenzo nace outside leahalla’e coping
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I arrived at the hospital an hour later, slipping into the shadows as I watched Lorenzo pace outside Isabella’s room. His tie was loosened,
frustration evident in every movement.
The doctor emerged, sighing. “She’s stable. The baby is fine, but she
needs rest. No stress.”
Lorenzo exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Can I see her?”
The doctor nodded, stepping aside.
I watched, amused, as he disappeared into the room. What a joke.
Slipping on a stolen nurse’s coat, I strolled to the station, plucking Isabella’s medical file from the tray. My eyes flicked over the report.
No pregnancy. No baby. Just another lie.
I smirked. Again, Isabella? How predictable.
I flipped the pages, noticing a signature at the bottom. Ah, so she paid off the doctor again. Just like last time.
Pathetic.
***
Inside the hospital room, Isabella was curled under the sheets, eyes fluttering open as Lorenzo stepped inside.
“Amore…” she whispered weakly.
Lorenzo sat beside her, dragging a hand down his face. “You scared me.”
She sniffled. “I thought–I thought I lost our baby.”
His jaw tightened. “You need to take care of yourself.”
She reached for his hand, voice trembling. “I just need you.”
His muscles tensed, but he didn’t pull away.
Not yet.
At the corner of the room, little Dante clutched Isabella’s hospital gown, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. “Mommy, are you okay?” he whimpered, his tiny voice shaking.
What a performance.
Isabella cradled his face, her own eyes glistening. “Yes, baby, I just got
scared.”
Dante turned to Lorenzo, eyes wide with manufactured fear. “Daddy, don’t
Joaun Mommy ako”
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Dante turned to Lorenzo, eyes wide with manufactured fear. “Daddy, don’t leave Mommy, okay?”
I nearly rolled my eyes. Even the kid was acting now?
Isabella, as dramatic as ever, wiped a tear and turned to Lorenzo. “I heard you were on a date.”
Lorenzo’s face hardened. Cold. Indifferent. “You don’t question me,
Isabella.”
Her lip trembled. “What am I to you?”
His silence was her answer.
She let out a broken sob, but before she could get another word in-
My turn.
I pulled out my phone and dialed.
