Valeria was just a wife on paper. Three years of a hellish marriage with the only man she had ever loved but it ended in divorce one rainy night. “Sign them. I can no longer stand to see your face or pretend like I don't want to strangle you with my bare hands everytime I lay eyes on you.” He barked coldly, throwing the papers on the table in front of her. She couldn't say it was unexpected. It had always been a matter of time. Once childhood friends, everything had gone to hell because of one woman, Isis Whittaker, Luka's late fianceé. An unfortunate accident. An incriminating message. Somehow, Luka came to believe Valeria was responsible for the death of the woman he loved and took it upon himself to punish her personally. Three years of torment and being labelled a murderer. She'd never thought the ending would be so…cathartic. Her hand lightly grazed her stomach as she signed the papers. Terrified of how she would explain she was pregnant from a night of passion he didn't even remember, she no longer needed to tell him. She would make sure he was never going to find out that she was carrying his son, the heir to the Thorne Empire. But then again, things never quite go as planned, she should have realized this by now…
View MoreValeria’s POVI barely managed to make it away from Luka.The second I slipped past him and rounded the corner, my chest caved in on itself. I sucked in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly as the heavy doors to the hall came into view. The hum of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the low murmur of a thousand conversations—it all pressed against me like a tidal wave.Hold it together.There were too many people here. Too many cameras, too many judging eyes. I couldn’t be seen crying. Not tonight. Not here.But my body didn’t care about my pride.The tears were already stinging the backs of my eyes, blurring my vision as I stumbled through the crowd, murmuring soft, desperate apologies as I gently pushed past elegant dresses and tailored suits.“Excuse me… sorry… I just… sorry.”I didn’t dare look up. I didn’t want to see if anyone recognized me. I didn’t want to know if someone was already whispering about the runaway humanitarian honoree who couldn’t even keep her composure.I just need
Luka’s POVI didn’t move a muscle as Valeria stepped up to the podium, the child still clinging to her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he belonged to her.To us.The applause had quieted, but my ears were still ringing. My heart pounded against my ribs, my jaw clenched so tightly I thought I’d shatter my teeth. I should’ve stormed up to the stage, ripped the mic out of her hand, demanded answers in front of everyone.But I didn’t.I sat back down and waited.She looked too composed—too calm. Like nothing about this moment was unnatural. Like she hadn’t just shattered my entire world with a single smile and a boy who looked like he’d walked out of my own childhood photos.She began her speech, talking about the children she’d worked with overseas, about building communities in places that had been overlooked for far too long. She spoke eloquently. Passionately. Her voice didn’t waver once.The audience was moved. I could hear it in the hum of agreement, the o
Luka’s POVThe past seven years had been tough. That’s probably the simplest way to put it—tough.But the truth?They had been soul-sucking.It was easier when Valeria was still around—easier to be angry, to lash out, to have a target for all the pain and bitterness churning in my chest. She was always there, her face a constant reminder of everything I’d lost. Every breath she took under my roof had felt like an insult, a reminder of Isis, of betrayal, of murder. I poured my hatred into her like it was the only way I could survive.But eventually… I couldn’t take it anymore.Looking at her every day, breathing the same air, hearing her voice—it got to a point where I didn’t trust myself. I was going to cross a line. A permanent one.So I let her go.I handed her divorce papers, told her I never wanted to see her face again, and kicked her out of my life.I thought it would make me feel better. That once she was gone, I’d finally have peace. But the reality?It didn’t fix anything.Th
Valeria’s POVSeven years.Seven whole years since I left the States, pregnant and heartbroken, with nothing but a carry-on bag and a secret growing inside me.Now here I was again—standing at the arrival gate of JFK, holding the hand of the little boy who had become my whole world.“Valeria!”I turned just in time to see Clark—my father’s ever-loyal assistant—cutting through the crowd, waving at me with a bright smile on his face. He looked exactly the same as I remembered him: tall, sleek, always impeccably dressed in dark suits and matching ties. If not for the wrinkles near his eyes and a few grays in his neatly combed hair, I could almost believe time hadn’t touched him.“Clark,” I smiled, and let go of Eliot’s hand to give him a quick hug. “You didn’t have to come personally.”“Are you kidding?” he said, stepping back. “Your father would have had my head if I didn’t show up myself. He’s been checking his phone every five minutes since your plane took off.”I laughed softly. “Sou
Valeria’s POV Isis never made it home that day.Later that evening, I received a call from the police asking to come in for questioning. I was stunned. Confused. But I went.They told me she’d been in a car accident. That the vehicle had skidded off a narrow turn and crashed into a ditch. It caught fire. Isis was declared dead on the scene. The cause? Brake failure.They told me I was the last person to see her alive.My stomach dropped.I answered every question calmly, even though I was shaking inside. I told them we had met to talk, that we’d made peace. I even showed them our café receipt, the timestamp. The security footage confirmed my story. But the whispers started—whispers I was already too familiar with.People already believed I was jealous of her. And now she was dead. Of course they'd think it was me.I don’t know what strings my father pulled, but somehow, I was removed from the list of suspects. Officially.But I knew Luka wouldn’t believe it. And I was right.Word spr
Valeria’s POVThe driver Clark sent was already outside by the time I finished dragging my last suitcase down the stairs. Not a word came from Luka’s room. Not a single sound to indicate he even cared that I was leaving. No goodbyes. No apologies. Not even a glance.The driver was a quiet man, polite enough to offer help, but I declined. There was something about packing up my own things that made it feel more final—more mine. He loaded all five of my suitcases and the carry-on into the trunk while I stood outside the massive gates of the mansion that had been my prison for the past three years.I wasn’t ready to get in the car yet. My feet remained rooted to the ground as I stared at the house. The towering pillars. The sprawling balcony I was never allowed to use. The garden I wasn’t allowed to tend to because Luka said it made the gardener uncomfortable. Every inch of it looked like paradise from the outside, but I knew better now.It was a cage.Still, some pathetic part of me wai
Valeria's POV Divorce papers.I always knew it would come to this. It’s been a slow, agonizing countdown since the day we got married—when he revealed to me that he only married me for revenge because he believed I was responsible for the accident that killed Isis, the woman he loved. He knew just how much I loved him. I had always loved him, but that didn’t stop him from telling me just how much he hated me. He said this marriage was going to be my punishment—his own special brand of hell.And then he threw me outside.In the middle of the night. Still wearing my wedding gown, barefoot, soaked, crying my eyes out on the pavement while the sky wept with me. He walked right past me the next morning like I was a stranger, like I didn’t exist, while I lay there shivering on the cold tiles outside the mansion—his mansion. I was nothing more than an unwanted stain on his perfect life.Now, here we were, full circle. His lawyer had pushed the thick envelope across the mahogany dining table
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