#Chapter 3: Truth and Games

All of this should have been the scene I dreamed of. I loved Luca, and of course I longed for our relationship to grow pato marriage.

But not like this. Not now.

I asked him to get up. Before any decision could be made, we needed to talk—really talk.

He looked worse than a few hours ago. His eyes were swollen, his expression raw. Chloe hovered behind him like a guilty conspirator who had already decided reconciliation was the only acceptable ending.

The whole situation began to feel less like betrayal and more like an emotional tornado I'd gotten swept up in.

If they weren't cheating together, what were they doing?

Something in me refused to believe they were simply buying me a ring.

As Chloe nudged him forward, Luca took my hands. “Eleanor, please,” he whispered, those familiar puppy-dog eyes pulling at my softest parts. “Let’s fix this.”

My resolve blurred. Maybe it had all been a misunderstanding. Maybe I’d overreacted and found cracks when there was none.

Sensing my hesitation, Luca closed the distance between us in one step and swept me into his arms. He buried his face in the crook of my neck like a child seeking comfort—exactly the way he always had.

"You know how much I love you. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. I would have done anything for you—everything. You know that. This was all just a misunderstanding, I can explain."

“I'm trying to start afresh. With you. If you say yes,” he promised, voice trembling with emotion, “I’ll bring you to meet my family today. We’ll start planning our future right away. I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”

My breath caught. This—this dream of building a family—was something I’d carried for years. It hurt to even imagine saying no.

A little angry at myself, that I still loved him. Even after everything he has done. 

After his betrayal and despite my anger.

The word “yes” hovered on my lips. It would take nothing in me to say it.

But just as I was about to speak—to let that fragile, forgiving yes escape my lips—I caught it.

A tiny flicker in Chloe’s eyes. Chloe wasn’t looking at Luca.

She wasn't even looking at me or the reconciliation scene she'd created.

She was staring at the ring with her heart in her eyes.

Chloe wasn’t acting like herself. She stood too stiffly, eyes lowered to the floor. I frowned. I thought she would be happier that I was about to say yes.

“Chloe? What’s wrong?”

Chloe’s head lifted slowly. Her expression wasn’t quite sadness—more like sorrow.

The type that came with a deep loss.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to make herself strong. “Remember that friends-with-benefits situationship?” She asked, biting her lower lip.

I nodded.

“Turns out it's falling apart,” she murmured, shaky in a way that felt… off. “And seeing you two so happy together just hit me out of nowhere. It reminded me of how I'm losing my own relationship.”

I had felt the exact same way in that boutique when the manager told me to assist the couple shopping for engagement rings when I didn't have my own ring.

My suspicion loosened a bit.

“Oh Chole, we didn't mean to rub it in your face like that.”

“It's okay.” She sniffed.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”

Chloe always had a fragile streak, and the way her lips trembled made my heart fold.

We went way back—pre-dropout, pre-chaos. Two girls from broken homes trying to survive shifts at a dingy part-time job. If anything, I had always been protective of Chloe, especially when Chloe mentioned that faceless “friend with benefits.” A full year and he hasn't met me? Come on. I had assumed Chloe was being used.

Chloe’s mood today did seem genuinely heavy.

Whoever this man was, he had shattered my best friend's heart thoroughly.

“He's not worth your tears,” I said, but before I could step closer to hug her, an arm slid around my waist— sudden and possessive.

“Babe,” Luca murmured, his hand squeezing my hip. “Let’s not get involved in other people’s drama on our day.”

Chloe immediately nodded, too quickly, relief flashing in her eyes like a secret signal.

“He’s right. I shouldn't bother you on a day you're supposed to be happy.” She tucked her hair behind her ear—a gesture I had never seen her do around strangers—then added lightly, “I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

She slipped out of the room without another word.

I blinked, completely thrown off guard. My suspension was coming again. Luca and Chloe had barely interacted in the past.

So when did they get comfortable enough to tag-team like that?

The smoothness of it—the synchronized retreat, the shared glance I almost didn’t catch—unnerved me.

On many occasions when I talked about him to her, she would roll her eyes and call him “spoilt prince.”

I had always assumed she called him that because of his looks but with the revelation that his family was actually wealthy, I wondered how long my best friend had hid that information from me.

Luca pulled me into his chest before I could think further.

“Babe, look at me.” His voice dropped, raw and emotional, as he lifted my left hand and pressed the ring against my finger.

I stiffened. “Luca…there are still too many loose ends between us. Give me time.”

The whole ‘rich family’ deceit was still very fresh. He hid his whole family, his whole life from me in what I now call ‘The Three-Year Lie’.

“Is this about your mother's necklace? We will find it together.” he said. “It could be our little adventure.”

“...I don't know Luca.”

Instead of letting go, he held me tighter, almost desperately, as if afraid I’d slip away through his fingers.

“I lied,” he said, voice shaking. “I know I did. But you don’t know what I was going through. My father—he never loved me. Just threw money at me like I was a bill to be paid. And after he divorced mum he… he completely checked out. I was all alone and couldn't trust anyone.”

I hesitated, anger softening under the weight of his confession.

“The money, the houses, the cars,” Luca said. “All belongs to him. My father.”

Luca spat the word ‘father’ with bitterness.

“Just how rich is your father?”

Luca grimaced. “Multiple billions.”

I could only say a stunned “Wow” it was hard to link Luca who I've always seen as a struggling broke artist as someone whose father had more than 300 dollars in his bank qaccount at any given time.

“I only spend his money as a form of rebellion,” Luca continued.

“Just who are you?” I asked. “Is Luca even your real name?”

“Of course, it is,” Luca said. “I'm so sorry, Babe. For everything.”

I knew the ache of broken families. Knew of abandonment, addiction, and loss all too well.

And Luca had helped me through some of the worst episodes with my father after my mother died. It wouldn't be fair to just break up with him like that. In a way, we were kindred spirits.

He has apologized already and besides, wasn't that what marriages were made of? For better for worse? Compromises?

He must have seen the shift in my expression because he leaned into the begging.

“I left everything—my whole toxic family—because I wanted to build a new one with some who would love me for me,” he whispered. “You. My dream girl. The only person who’s ever made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

My ribs tightened around my lungs. The sincerity in his tone—whether real or expertly performed—hit my deepest longing.

Slowly, I gave him a hesitant nod.

With a huge smile, Luca slid the ring onto my finger with an audible exhale of relief. Although it fit awkwardly, the ring was a large diamond.

In competition with the stranger's jacket as the most expensive thing I now owned.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He peppered kisses all over my face.

Luca swept me into a euphoric hug, spinning me slightly.

Was it strange that I remembered the ease the stranger in the bar carried me?

And how I felt more alive with him than I ever felt with Luca?

I forced the thought away from my mind, the intrusion felt like betraying Luca. Although nothing serious had actually happened between me and the stranger.

“I can finally introduce you to my father,” he said breathlessly. “He has to meet you.”

Luca's father. Sebastian Rossi.

I racked my brain for all I knew about the Rossi family. Those grainy shots from the tabloids, candid shots of the man himself—the mysterious billionaire, always from a distance or in profile. All you could really make out were broad shoulders and a tall frame. Any real details about his private life remained frustratingly vague.

The stranger flashed through my mind for no reason again.

I almost laughed at the absurdity. He was older, yes, but still… he couldn’t possibly have a son Luca’s age.

Besides, according to Luca, the billionaire didn’t even care about his only heir. I pictured a sharp-eyed old man, cold and detached.

A flicker of curiosity stirred inside me.

What was this billionaire father really like?