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Chapter 2

Author: Mingo
I hadn't expected him to come back. I stayed calm.

"Just clearing out old stuff. Getting new things."

He didn't press. He loosened his tie and let out a breath.

"Go get dressed. We've got a charity gala for the family foundation tonight."

"I'm not feeling well. You go ahead."

It was the first time I'd ever turned him down.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Then reached out to feel my forehead.

"You sick? Got a fever?"

For once, he actually seemed to care.

Before I could answer, a sweet voice drifted in from the doorway.

"Lillian, are you ready? What dress are you wearing tonight?"

Clara.

Lucas pulled his hand back instantly and turned.

Clara stood there in a pink off-the-shoulder dress, her hair pinned up, back exposed in a way that was anything but innocent.

Lucas's voice went sharp. "That's way too much skin. Go change."

I had the exact same dress—Clara had bought them as "sister" gifts.

On our anniversary, I'd worn it with such hope. Lucas hadn't even glanced my way.

So he did have a jealous streak. Just not for me.

Clara pouted, trotted over, and grabbed his arm.

"Come on, bro, don't be so old-school. Everyone's wearing this now."

She batted her lashes, playing innocent.

He scolded her. "You'll attract every jerk in the room dressed like that."

"Oh please, everyone knows you've got my back. Who'd dare come near me?" She squeezed his arm. "I swear, I'll stick by your side all night, okay? Lillian, back me up here."

I kept quiet.

Because I knew Lucas never said no to Clara.

And sure enough, he sighed. "Fine. But you stay close to me the whole night."

"Yes, sir!" She winked.

Then she turned to me. "Lillian, why aren't you dressed?"

"I'm not feeling up to it."

"Please come. It's your first gala as Lucas's wife. A perfect chance to make an impression on all the families."

Lucas nodded, eyeing me. "Clara wants you there. And as my wife, you should show up. Don't be difficult."

How quickly he switched.

But I was used to it. Whatever Clara wanted, he gave.

Me? Just three words: Don't be difficult.

I didn't argue. I'd be gone soon anyway. One more gala didn't matter.

I changed and joined them.

The Maybach pulled up to the private club, and the manager greeted us at the door.

We were seated at the head table.

People kept coming by to pay their respects.

Then Damiano—heir to the Castriano family, and Lucas's rival on the ice—strolled over with a drink.

He stopped in front of Clara, bowed like a gentleman, and his interest was plain to see.

"Miss Clara, may I have the first dance tonight?"

Damiano was young, handsome, and wore his custom suit like a second skin. Half the women in the room were eyeing him.

But before Clara could answer, Lucas cut in coldly.

"My sister's not dancing tonight."

Damiano just smiled. He turned to Clara with a teasing look.

"Miss Clara, you're an adult now. Still letting your brother call the shots?"

Clara, always one to take the bait, reached for Damiano's champagne and raised an eyebrow.

"It's just a dance, bro. Relax."

She smiled at Damiano. "See you on the floor."

Lucas's jaw tightened, his grip on his glass turning white.

But his eyes stayed glued to them.
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  • Captain, Check Your Divorce Papers   Chapter 13

    A few days later, at the airport, I found two boxes in my bag.The Tears of Diamond.And the emerald ring.How had he even put them there?I stared at them a long moment—then shoved them back into my bag.And boarded my flight.Months passed.Lucas survived. Barely.Multiple surgeries. Long rehab.But the spinal damage was permanent. He'd never walk again.The former hockey star was in a wheelchair for life.Clara stayed at first—then left. Within half a year, she'd found someone new.The tabloids showed her beaming with a tech CEO, a huge diamond on her finger.Meanwhile, on the other side of the world—Norway.Morning light poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, across a calm lake and snow-dusted mountains.I came in from my run, cheeks flushed, poured a glass of water, and checked my phone.My assistant's email: final confirmation on the international jewelry exhibition.My name, front and center. Chief Curator.I set the phone down and looked out at the white peaks.Then the door

  • Captain, Check Your Divorce Papers   Chapter 12

    The hospital was cold and white.I sat alone, watching the surgery light burn red.Then footsteps: Clara."Where is he?! What happened to him?"She saw me and charged. "Lillian! Why was he with you? What did you do?"She shoved me into the wall. My back ached.I didn't fight back.She raised her hand to slap me—And someone caught her wrist.Lorenzo.He stood beside me, jaw tight. He looked at Clara with ice in his eyes."The Rossis," he said quietly, "don't take kindly to people putting hands on what's ours.""Especially not on my—" He paused. "On mine."Clara's face twisted, but she held back.She let go and stepped away.Lorenzo ignored her. He draped his jacket over my shoulders—that familiar, woody scent."Come on," he whispered. "I'll stay with you."Hours passed.Finally, the surgeon came out."He's alive. But the damage is severe—spinal cord, legs. It's uncertain when—or if—he'll wake. And if he does, mobility will likely be limited."Clara collapsed.I leaned against the wall,

  • Captain, Check Your Divorce Papers   Chapter 11

    "Then what is it?" I stood, bag in hand. "If this is all you have to say, we're done.""Wait!" He rose too, fumbled in his jacket, and yanked out a small velvet box.Inside wasn't the Tears.It was an emerald ring—rich, clear, glowing."You mentioned wanting something like this on our anniversary. So I thought—"I cut him off. "What is this, Lucas? A consolation prize? A handout? Or just another way to humiliate me?""I can buy my own things. I don't need your pity. And I sure as hell don't need fake kindness from a man who threw me away.""I didn't mean—""If you have nothing else," I said, "don't come near me again."I walked. He called after me:"Lillian! I was wrong!"His voice echoed in the quiet café.I stopped. For a second.Then I straightened my back and pushed through the door.Outside, I walked aimlessly through the city, trying to shake his words."Wrong." What did he know about wrong?His "wrong" was just another name for Clara.I just wanted to go back to my hotel and lea

  • Captain, Check Your Divorce Papers   Chapter 10

    (Third Person POV)Late at night, Lucas lay awake in the dark.Lillian's cold eyes played on a loop in his mind.And then the memories came—things he'd never let himself think about:The warm honey-lemon water she'd always bring him, quiet and hopeful.The lamp she left on when he worked late, her curled up on the couch with a book, waiting.The time his stomach was killing him, and she'd stayed up all night, pressing cool cloths to his forehead, fingers gentle.He'd taken it all for granted. Found her "wifely devotion" annoying.Now, in the dark, the memories pricked at him like needles.He tossed and turned.Eventually, sleep took him.And in his dreams, she was there again—younger, in a simple dress, smiling. The smile from their first coffee date. But when he reached for her, it faded, replaced by cold distance...He woke gasping, soaked in sweat.He couldn't stop thinking about her.The next evening, he dialed the number she'd written.It rang. And rang.Then: "Hello?"Her voice.

  • Captain, Check Your Divorce Papers   Chapter 9

    Afterward, I shoved my materials into my bag, muttering into my earpiece: "We lost. Way over budget. I'll find an alternative, send you the proposal soon."A page slipped from my file.Before I could pick it up, a hand beat me to it.I looked up. Lucas.He handed it back, scanning the contents."So you're the curator now. Impressive."I took the paper without a word and turned to leave.My heels clicked on the marble floor.Then I stopped. Turned around. Walked back."Lucas." I met his eyes. "That ring—" I pointed to the velvet box in his hand. "Six million. The museum will pay six. Take it or leave it."He blinked, thrown.I didn't give him time. "Market value, clarity, cut—5.8 was already overpriced. Good luck finding a buyer willing to match that. You're sitting on dead capital."I spoke like I was appraising a widget.He stared at me—this sharp, professional woman who'd replaced the wife he remembered."Lillian." His voice was low. "This ring is Clara's engagement ring."My face di

  • Captain, Check Your Divorce Papers   Chapter 8

    He was leaning against the wall in the dim hallway, still as a shadow.His soft face was half-lit, and his eyes held no judgment—only a quiet grief."You're crying," he said.I touched my cheek. It was wet.He handed me a neatly folded handkerchief."If you want," he said gently, "my shoulder's free."I stared at him.Maybe I was too raw. Or maybe it was just the way he said it."Mr. Rossi," I said, almost joking, "that kind of line sounds like you're hitting on me."He didn't laugh.His eyes held mine. Then he asked, so softly it was barely there:"Can I?"Three words. Quiet. And they landed in my chest like stones.It wasn't a joke. It was real.I couldn't face that look. I mumbled something about leaving and ran.He didn't follow. Just stood there as I fled into the night.Later, I'd learn that Lorenzo was K all along—that he'd recognized me the moment he caught the trace of Sicilian Summer Night on my wrist.But that was later.The auction was at a top-tier art center in Manhattan.

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