Hiding The Billionaire's Son After Divorce

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itcase down the stairs. Not a word came from Luka's room. Not a single sound to indi

y own things that made it feel more final-more mine. He loaded all five of my suitcases and the carry-on into t

pillars. The sprawling balcony I was never allowed to use. The garden I wasn't allowed to tend to because Luka said

as a

athetic part

ted f

s, yelling that it was all a mistake, that he couldn't let me go. Or maybe he

down, I k

asn't

tion. No fairytale ending. He hated

sliding into the backseat. The door shut qu

he window, watching the golden gates disappear i

hatred. From the manipulation. From the mind games. From th

ged for so long was... freed

of relief, like I could finally breathe

ater, like a tidal wave crashing in slow motion. I didn't know. But I

*

han me. Our fathers were business partners, and our mothers-well, at least back the

, winters too. He was alw

g everything-but I do remember being sixteen and watching him help me off a horse during one of our fa

ion to head-spinning infatuation. I started dreaming of our wedding. Not j

How could it not be? We'd

attered the day h

irlfr

corporate luncheons. She was pretty in a soft, delicate sort of way. Brown curls, flawles

one b

-I'd loved Luka for years, silently, desperately. But the more I

s too

th whatever the group was saying. It was like she didn't have a personality

s sic

else seemed

ially

ng at her, defending her, talk

to tear m

ter, and brokenhearted heiress

ng to forget the name seconds later, offering her my shoes for an event and "accidentally" giving her two left ones

wasn't

flipped it around and played the victim. Luka would give me th

deep end. She didn't fall in. Barely even tripped. But I laughed-loudly-and made

e turned to stone. Isis bur

in everyone's

rst thing

with hundreds of guests, live music, champagne fl

and on it was a crystal-clear photo of her leaving a hotel with him. The photo was fake,

dly the music pra

was furious, but he did

me near the pool that nig

e said, his voice

ou should thank me. I'm saving

'll apologize. Righ

chin. "Not

we're

stopped

all me. Don't text me. I don't want

he walk

few days. Maybe a week. Surel

was

ssistant stonewalled every attempt to reach hi

ssage through his assistant,

dn't

hated myself. I started to see just how awful I'd been

the news broke-Luk

art of me d

like a child. The wedding invitation came a week lat

ldn't thr

ding the invite, and

made a

his friend, I could at least try to fix wha

café. I wore beige, so

ized. I

me she understood. She promised she'd talk t

what was going

e never mad