Chapter 65 WRONG AND OLDER.
\~~~RAINA.
I got home later than usual.
Work had dragged, my head had dragged with it, and my thoughts had been stuck on one thing alone. Luciano.
To confess, tell him everything, and end this before it destroys me.
That was the plan. My sweet little plan.
When I got to our room and didn’t find him there, a small knot formed in my chest. I dropped my bag on the chair and stepped back into the hallway.
The butler was downstairs.
“Is my husband around?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “He is in his study…”
I didn’t hear the rest.
The moment she said study, my heart started racing.
Perfect.
I turned back toward the stairs almost immediately, my steps quick, and my palms already damp.
All day, I had rehearsed the words in my head, how I would start gently, and how I would explain that I never meant to lie, and that none of this was done out of malice.
I was ready.
I climbed the stairs, each step louder than the last in my ears. When I reached the hallway leading to his study, I slowed down.
The door was just ahead so I stopped.
For a long moment, I just stood there, staring at it. My hands were sweating badly now. I wiped them against my shirt, but then again, the anxiety didn’t ease.
I imagined him inside alone, seated behind his desk, his eyes fixed on his computer screen with that usual unreadable expression on his face.
‘Please, God,’ I thought.
‘Let him be in a good mood.’
Not that Luciano was ever really in a good mood… but maybe today could be different.
I inhaled deeply.
Then, without giving myself time to overthink it, I reached for the knob and pushed the door open.
But as I entered fully, it was as though my whole world had just shattered.
My phone slipped from my hand before I even realized it, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
A sharp gasp tore out of me, and I slammed my mouth shut immediately, like I could force the sound back in.
But it was too late.
They were kissing.
Luciano… and some la…
Irina?
That blonde hair was enough to give her away.
Her lips were on his, familiar and intimate in a way that made my stomach twist violently. For a second, my brain refused to process what my eyes were seeing, like it was some cruel illusion.
Then they pulled apart before they both turned to look at me.
Irina’s blonde hair was slightly disheveled, and her lips looked redder than before. Luciano was frozen, his eyes locked on mine, shock flickering across his face, just for a moment.
My chest felt like it had caved in and I swear, I couldn’t breathe.
My legs went weak, but I forced myself to stay standing. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, like it was trying to break free from my ribs.
I came here to confess… to beg for forgiveness.
Instead, I was standing in the room, watching my husband kiss the woman he once loved.
The woman he said didn’t matter.
The woman I had told myself not to fear.
I swallowed hard, but my throat burned.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence was unbearable but Irina recovered first.
Of course, she would.
A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips as she turned fully toward me, her eyes gleaming with something ugly. Victory and mockery.
Like this was exactly what she wanted me to see.
Luciano stood up abruptly, pushing her away with more force than necessary, but it didn’t undo what I had seen.
Nothing could.
“Talia,” he started.
I took a step back, my head shaking.
“Wait, and listen to me,” his voice came out rough and cold.
Like I was really really supposed to just wait and watch as they both make a fool of me.
I didn’t say another word, I just turned around and then bolted out of the room.
I didn’t remember how I got back to our bedroom. My feet moved on their own with my chest tight, and my ears ringing. The moment I was inside, I slammed the door shut and locked it, my hands shaking so badly it took me two tries.
I leaned my back against the door for a second, breathing hard, then stumbled to the bed and climbed onto it. I curled up immediately, pulling my knees to my chest like I could make myself small enough to disappear.
‘Don’t cry, don’t cry.’
This was stupid, completely stupid.
Why would I cry over that?
Why would I cry over a man who wasn’t really my husband? A man who actually belonged to my sister? A marriage that started as a lie?
But my eyes burned so badly that it hurt. Forcing the tears back only made it worse. My throat closed, and my chest felt like it was caving in on itself.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my face into the pillow.
I shouldn’t feel this. God, I shouldn’t care.
I lifted my head and looked around, suddenly needing my phone, needing something to ground me. That was when I remembered how it had slipped from my hands in his study and hit the floor.
I let out a shaky breath and just then, a knock sounded on the door.
I flinched so hard my whole body jerked.
“Open the door, Talia.”
I scooted backward on the bed, like the distance could protect me. My fingers tangled in my hair as I hugged my knees tighter to my chest.
I didn’t answer.
“Open the door,” he said again, firmer this time.
God, this wasn’t supposed to hurt.
It never should have.
This was Luciano. The cold, cruel, and untouchable Luciano. The man who had never pretended to love me. The man who reminded me, again and again, that this marriage was nothing more than an arrangement.
I shouldn’t feel betrayed.
I shouldn’t feel angry.
I shouldn’t feel anything at all.
“You’ve got everything wrong,” he said from the other side. “Just open the door.”
Wrong?
I pressed my forehead to my knees, my shoulders trembling as the tears finally spilled over.
“Shit…” I sobbed quietly, clamping a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound.
The silence that followed was heavy, too heavy.
Minutes passed, or maybe seconds. I couldn’t tell. My breathing slowly steadied, and I told myself this was it. He had left.
Of course he would. Luciano didn’t chase explanations. He didn’t beg and he certainly didn’t care.
Then I heard the faint rattling sound at the door.
My head snapped up, and my heart slammed against my ribs.
No.
No, no, no.
The handle moved again.
My eyes widened as the realization hit me.
There was another key to the room?!
Before I could even stand, the lock turned, and the door pushed open.
Luciano stood there.
His hair was messy, like he had dragged his hands through it one too many times. His sleeves were rolled up, his shirt half undone, three buttons open like he hadn’t bothered to fix himself before coming after me.
He looked… wrong and older like ten years had been added to his face in just ten minutes.
Our eyes met and for a second, neither of us moved.