Chapter 41 Chapter 41
6 months laterLily
I slide down a gold bracelet in my hand and wear a watch on my left hand. I have my bangs loosely dangling near my eyelashes, I got them freshly cut last week. It frames my face in a way that feels soft, but also bold. Like I’m finally letting the world see me. The real me.
I am wearing a dark brown kinda nude matted lipstick shade. I gaze at my perfectly done manicured nails and can’t help but smile. I’m wearing a long dark green dress which makes me feel like I am in a fairytale. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have imagined wearing something like this, but today, I feel like a goddess. I feel like the main character.
I walk in heels now like they were made for me. No more wobbling, no more hiding behind flats or shrinking away. I walk tall. I walk proud. The version of me I’ve become feels more… whole. Stronger. These past six months have changed so much inside of me.
I walk in the venue where I have reserved as today is an extremely important day. I have hosted a night mic for authors. Yes, I’ve written a romance book and it’sbest selling all across California, I guess. The book cover is black and red background and has a golden cage on it and it’s called Sweet Poison. Author’s name: Lily. Just Lily.
I am doing this event in a restaurant which has a huge garden, and I will be using just the garden. When I hosted it, all the tickets sold out, not for many people but just a hundred. That was enough. That was everything.
As I walk on the venue all the people gazes at me, some are waving, others are saying hi. I feel like I am the main character of this story and I am the author now, writing everything as I want.
There are fairy lights all around the place. Strung across trees, twinkling like little stars. Some people are sitting on the grass. Some on the wooden chairs. And some are standing. But they are all gathered here today to share our little piece of art , poems, stories, dreams that were once buried inside. They are all dressed up elegantly, like royalty. I wanted to bring out those people who never got a chance to tell what’s inside of them.
I stand in front of the stage and watch all the people in front of me. I take a breath.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I present myself, Lily. The author of Sweet Poison. I am so glad to have you all gathered here today.” I talk in the mic, my voice steady, warm.
“First, I would like to play a little piece of music to start this evening.”
I step back and grab my violin and take the stick and I start playing a melody that has been my comfort for these six months. I play and I watch how the crowd enjoys listening to it, some people are sipping wine while others are drinking their whiskey.
My fingers slightly wrap around the stick as I move it on the violin. I move accordingly with the music I play, flowing with it, breathing with it.
When I finish, I bow my head down with the violin in one hand and the stick in the other. They all clap for me.
One by one, some poets and writers go on the stage to perform a bit of their piece.
Lastly, it was me who gets to go on the stage.
“I would like to present to you all my poem related to my latest book too.”
I sigh, then close my eyes and gather all my strength.
“To the Love of My Life
I looked in your eyes, dark as the night,
Draped in black, like a god bathed in light.
I was the swan who swam through the storm,
Drawn to your fire, to your deadly warm.
But when I was broken, bleeding and bruised,
You vanished, my love, left me confused.
I needed you most when I lost our spark,
But you turned away, left me in dark.
You died—or so I had believed,
But lies were the shroud you cleverly weaved.
Alive, yet distant, wrapped in disguise,
While I burned in silence, with tear-stained eyes.
You caged me in red, in darkness and pain,
When all I wanted was sun through the rain.
You were meant to be the light I lacked,
Not the ghost who never came back.
Still, may my love find its way to you,
Even if your gun is the first thing in view.
Point it, my king, if that’s what it takes,
To remind me of all the heartbreak and stakes.
And if someone hears me in this crowded fight,
Tell my mafia king I miss him during all the heavy nights.
His presence still haunts my soul's worn floor,
He roams in the corridors of my heart every night.”
The night air is soft and warm, filled with the last trace of laughter and poetry.
“Thank you,” I say with a wide smile, my cheeks aching from how much I’ve smiled tonight. This night has been a great success, more than I ever imagined. I greet everyone good night as they begin to leave. Some come up to me to have their copy of Sweet Poison signed, others take a snap or a photo together, hugging me, congratulating me, calling me the author.
Slowly, the crowd thins. The garden grows quiet. One by one, they leave — until it’s just me and the quiet hum of the night.
I start turning off the fairy lights one by one, walking through the garden barefoot now, heels in my hand, making sure everything is fine before I return the place.
That’s when I hear it. A voice. Not cold — no — but like someone who has been impatiently waiting.
“Lily.”
I freeze.
The voice is way too familiar.
I close my eyes and my heart skips a beat. I am kneeling down, fingers brushing against the switch of another light. My hand stops. My breath hitches. My legs tremble as I slowly get back on my feet.
I don’t turn. Not yet. I am not ready.
I gulp down the rising storm in my chest.
And then... I turn.
There he is.
Sitting by a palm tree, in a wooden chair like he’s been there all night. Dressed in all black. The shadows love him. They always have.
Time slams into me like a wave.
Sebastian Manchini.
My mafia husband. The man I buried in my heart and mourned in silence. The one who pretended to be dead for a complete eight months.
And now, the dead man is back.
And somehow… he found me.
“Sebastian Manchini,” I whisper, like his name burns the tip of my tongue.