One Hundred & Thirty Three

One Hundred & Thirty Three
Amara sat still long after Lorenzo finished speaking.
The room felt too quiet. Too big. Her ears rang as if his words were still echoing off the walls.
A pawn.
A tool.
Revenge.
Her hands rested in her lap, trembling. She hadn’t noticed when tears began to slide down her cheeks. They fell silently, one after another, soaking into the fabric of her dress.
None of this made sense. And yet… somehow, it did.
Darius had always been careful. Guarded. Sometimes in the past she could sense the way he looked at her.. the coldness in his eyes. He loved her, she believed that… but he also kept parts of himself locked away. His past. His family. The hate in his eyes whenever her father’s name came up.
She had thought it was just because Don Matteo was cruel.
But what if it was more?
What if everything between them had started as a lie?
Her chest tightened painfully.
Lorenzo stood, straightening his jacket. His expression was calm now, almost bored, as if he had simply delivered information and nothing more.
“I hope you make the right choice,” he said coolly. “This relationship is… distasteful.”
Then he turned and walked out, his footsteps fading down the hall.
The door closed softly behind him.
Amara flinched at the sound.
She was alone.
Her mind replayed every moment with Darius… the way he watched her, protected her, held her when she cried. The way he promised he’d never leave her. All the love they shared.
Was it all part of a plan?
She hugged herself tightly, trying to breathe through the ache spreading in her chest.
He should have told me, she thought.
If he loved me, he should have told me.
The idea that she had been kept in the dark… used, even unknowingly… hurt worse than any slap her father had ever given her.
Slowly, she stood.
Her legs felt weak as she walked up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. She went into the bedroom she shared with Darius. The room still smelled like him. His jacket lay draped over a chair. His watch rested on the dresser.
She pressed a hand to her mouth as a sob escaped her.
“How could… how could this happen,” she whispered into the empty room.
She opened the closet and pulled out a small bag. Her movements were shaky but determined. She didn’t pack much… just clothes, her wallet, her passport. She avoided looking at anything that reminded her too much of him.
On the desk, she found a notepad.
Her fingers hovered over the paper for a long moment before she wrote.
The words came out short. Simple. Painful.
Don’t come looking for me. It’s over between us
She stared at the note for a long time.
Then she folded it once and placed it where he couldn’t miss it.
Her chest hurt so badly she thought she might collapse, but she forced herself to move. She walked out of the room, down the stairs, past the guards who straightened in surprise.
“Ma’am?” one of them said. “Should we inform… ”
“No,” she said quickly, her voice shaking. “Please. Don’t.”
They hesitated, but she was already walking past them.
Outside, the air was cool and salty. The sea stretched out endlessly, just like the road ahead of her… unknown and terrifying.
She didn’t know where she was going.
She only knew she couldn’t stay.
As the car drove away from the mansion, Amara looked out the window, tears streaming freely now.
She loved Darius.
That was the worst part.
But love built on secrets and blood and revenge felt like deceit..
Amara sat in the back seat of the taxi, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the city blurred past the window. Tears kept falling no matter how hard she tried to stop them. Her chest hurt like it was being squeezed from the inside.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked gently, glancing at her through the mirror.
She opened her mouth… then closed it again.
She didn’t know.
Her throat tightened and she shook her head, wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “The airport,” she said finally, her voice barely steady. “Please.”
The driver nodded and pulled back into traffic.
As the car moved forward, panic crept in. The airport meant choices. Destinations. Decisions she wasn’t ready to make.
She had no family to run to.
She couldn’t go to her father. Never again.
She couldn’t go to Valen… not without dragging him into her mess and Darius finding her..
And she couldn’t call Darius… because if he found her, she knew she’d break. She’d forgive him before he even explained. And she wasn’t ready to hear the his side of his story .. not yet.
Her phone buzzed in her bag.
Her heart jumped violently.
She didn’t take it out.
Don’t look, she told herself. If it’s him, you won’t be strong enough.
She stared out the window instead, watching strangers walk by with places to go, people waiting for them. She had never felt so alone in her life.
Her thoughts circled painfully.
Was it all a lie? Did he ever really love me?
She remembered his arms around her, the way he whispered her name like it mattered. The way he protected her, stood between her and danger without hesitation.
If it was all revenge… why did it feel so real?
The taxi slowed as the airport came into view, lights bright against the darkening sky. Her stomach dropped.
This was it.
She paid the driver with shaking hands and stepped out onto the pavement. The noise hit her all at once… rolling suitcases, announcements, voices speaking languages she didn’t understand.
She stood there, frozen.
Everyone seemed to belong somewhere.
She didn’t.
Tears slipped down her face again as she walked inside, pulling her hood up like it could hide the ache written all over her.
She reached a quiet corner near the departure screens and sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands.
“I don’t know where to go,” she whispered brokenly.
For the first time since she was a child, Amara had no plan. No protection. No home she could return to.
Just a broken heart…