Ninety-Nine Times Too Many

The convertible’s window was rolled halfway down as Gianna leaned out and apologized to me.

“Sorry, Isabella. I casually mentioned wanting to go clubbing, and Luca insisted on taking me out. He spoils me too much. But don’t worry. When he gets back, I’ll make him buy you a gift to apologize!”

Before I could respond, Luca smiled and rubbed her head.

“Gianna, you’re too innocent. You think everyone’s like you?”

“Don’t mind her. She’s probably about to pretend to be pitiful again and beg me to stay. I’m not falling for that act.”

So it turned out he had noticed the hurt on my face earlier. He just thought I was acting jealous again.

Usually, at times like this, I would’ve already broken down crying, arguing with Luca while trying to explain myself.

This time, however, I said nothing.

I simply nodded. “Okay. Have fun.”

Luca froze for a moment after hearing that, but soon his teasing expression returned.

“Good. At least you’re not making a scene.”

Then the car sped away.

Still, I noticed that before driving off, Luca thoughtfully lowered the entire roof because he was worried Gianna would feel stuffy.

I got carsick easily, especially in Luca’s car. He had never been willing to open the roof for me, though, only saying, “The wind will blow dust into the car. Can you stop being so dramatic?”

At that moment, I finally understood how obvious it was between true love and not.

I took the engagement ring off my finger and threw it into the dark waters of the Landford River.

Early the next morning, I went to the family headquarters to hand over my work.

Ever since Luca became the don of the family, I had been working as his secretary.

“You’re resigning? Does Luca know?” The committee members were shocked after hearing that I was leaving.

“He’ll know once the new secretary arrives.”

After saying that, I left the office and returned to the estate.

Right then, I ran into Luca dressed in a white suit, the scent of women’s perfume all over him.

He rolled his wrist slightly before lowering his gaze toward me.

“I drank too much last night, and it wasn’t safe to drive. I booked a room to rest by myself. That’s why I didn’t come home.”

This was the first time in all these years that Luca had ever voluntarily explained himself to me.

I nodded and didn’t say anything.

“You suddenly had work this morning?” he asked again.

I looked up at him and remembered how every morning after his parties, I would wake up at five or six to prepare a hangover meal for him.

I had always done that since we got together.

So it was no surprise that he found it strange that nothing was prepared this morning.

“Something like that,” I replied.

I was just about to leave when Luca, who had been frowning since earlier, suddenly grabbed my wrist with a dark expression.

“Isabella, enough already.

“We just changed the wedding date. It’s not like we’re not getting married anymore. If you keep making a fuss, it’s going to get annoying!”

However, I wasn’t making a fuss, and I truly wasn’t planning on marrying him anymore.

I thought it might be better to tell him clearly right then, but before I could speak, a sweet yet slightly annoyed voice rang out.

“Luca! This is all your fault!

“The bra you bought me this morning is totally the wrong size! I already explained it clearly to you!”

Gianna stood not far away with her hands on her hips, stomping her foot in anger, her cheeks puffed up.

The moment Luca saw her, he immediately shoved past me and quickly walked over, lifting Gianna into his arms.

His tone turned anxious and serious.

“You’re not feeling well, and you’re still running around barefoot? Are you purposely trying to upset me?”

Several memories couldn’t help but flash through my mind.

Earlier this month, my knife wound got infected. I was curled up in bed with a high fever, begging Luca to help me get painkillers and antibiotics.

Back then, he had frowned impatiently.

“It’s just a fever. Why can’t you endure it? So troublesome!”

By the time I came back to my senses, Luca had already carried Gianna far away.

I looked away, suppressing the dull ache in my chest, and picked up my phone to contact the Anderson family, who had been trying to recruit me for a long time.

After booking my flight, I happened to see that Gianna had posted a photo on social media.

The caption read: [My stomach hurts so much, but Luca’s hands are so warm…]

In the photo, a large hand rested against Gianna’s stomach.

There was a scar on that hand, the same as the scar on Luca’s hand.

I glanced at it briefly before silently removing the couple’s photo of Luca and me from my phone’s lock screen.