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Flashback — Full of Paper and Promises

Author: Dianna Styles
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-30 21:14:38

Dusk had fully fallen by the time we returned to the villa.

The Italian sky had turned a deep blue, with streaks of orange lingering on the horizon like the final brushstrokes of a painting that refused to be finished. The air was cooler now, crisp against my skin as I stepped out of the car. But something warm was blooming quietly in my chest, something that had started growing ever since my conversation with Luciana. Not because her words were comforting—at least, not entirely. But because beneath all that elegance and grace, I’d seen that her heart wasn’t all that different from mine.

She was just a mother, loving her son in the quietest, most anxious way.

And me… somewhere along the way, I had begun to love Aaric not just as a lover, but as a wound I wanted to tend to, even knowing it might never fully heal.

Inside, the villa felt warmer than usual. The fireplace was already lit—by whom, I didn’t know, as no staff had appeared since we got back. The scent of burning wood mingled w
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  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Where the City Forgot to Listen

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  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Mess it Up

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  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   I

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  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Glances and Gray Beanies

    The sun wasn’t fully up yet when I woke to a ticklish feeling.Not the alarm. Not the sunlight. But something moving slowly across my stomach—warm breath, then a soft nip at my rib. And a voice I knew far too well growling low in my ear.“What the...” I mumbled, half-asleep.“Guess who fell asleep on her laptop with the screen still on,” Aaric whispered between quiet chuckles. “And guess who’s been snoring just a little for the past two hours?”I slowly opened my eyes and looked around.We were still in the workspace. The desk lamp was still glowing dimly. My laptop screen was frozen on a half-finished presentation, the cursor blinking at a sentence that read: “Emotion and space influence each other—so honest design is living design.”My head felt heavy. My neck ached. But my body was warm.Because Aaric was still there.He was now lying on his side on the rug, facing me, his head resting against my bent leg on the couch. His hair was a mess. His eyes were barely open. But that smile—

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  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Calamity

    I slammed the door to Aaric’s apartment a little too hard, then tossed my bag onto the couch without bothering to unpack it. The jingle of keys hitting the floor blended with the deep breath I finally let out after hours of holding it in.The New York sky was gray that night—like a mirror of my brain. And after a full day inside a house that called me family but felt more like an opera stage run by a director obsessed with reputation, I needed to hear another human voice. A real one. One not wrapped in expensive linen shirts and layered passive-aggressive remarks.I grabbed my phone and opened the Flat Fam (drama edition) group call. The screen rang once, twice, and then two faces I knew like my own popped up: Elle, with a half-dried face mask, and Joy, lying sideways wrapped in a blanket like a lazy burrito.“De Cruuuuuuuz!” Elle yelled as soon as my face appeared. “Why do you look like you just walked out of a royal family’s funeral?”Joy squinted. “You look like someone who got tra

  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Mess it Up

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    This city always welcomes you the same way—loud, rushed, and utterly indifferent to whether you’ve just fallen in love or lost everything.On my first morning back in New York, I didn’t wake up to sunlight streaming through the windows like in Italy. Instead, it was the impatient honking of a yellow cab down below the apartment. Maybe that was the biggest difference between the place we’d just left and the one we were returning to.Life fell right back into its old rhythm. Aaric’s apartment was cold in the mornings, the bitter coffee he brewed half-asleep in the kitchen, and the work desk still cluttered with blueprints he hadn’t touched since the night before our flight.In the living room, I sat cross-legged on the carpet, laptop on my lap, my hair still damp from the shower. Design assignments piled up on my screen, and project revisions stared at me like little monsters waiting to devour my time. But my mind kept drifting back to the villa on the hill, to the evenings filled with

  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee    Flashback — Full of Paper and Promises

    Dusk had fully fallen by the time we returned to the villa.The Italian sky had turned a deep blue, with streaks of orange lingering on the horizon like the final brushstrokes of a painting that refused to be finished. The air was cooler now, crisp against my skin as I stepped out of the car. But something warm was blooming quietly in my chest, something that had started growing ever since my conversation with Luciana. Not because her words were comforting—at least, not entirely. But because beneath all that elegance and grace, I’d seen that her heart wasn’t all that different from mine.She was just a mother, loving her son in the quietest, most anxious way.And me… somewhere along the way, I had begun to love Aaric not just as a lover, but as a wound I wanted to tend to, even knowing it might never fully heal.Inside, the villa felt warmer than usual. The fireplace was already lit—by whom, I didn’t know, as no staff had appeared since we got back. The scent of burning wood mingled w

  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Where the Light Doesn’t Reach

    The sky had begun to shift into shades of copper as the staff brought out the afternoon coffee. The last rays of sunlight pierced gently through the garden foliage, casting abstract patterns over the small marble table. Aaric and his father were standing near the fountain, discussing something that looked serious—judging by their gestures and the way their eyes kept darting toward the edge of the estate, I guessed it was about property or a construction project.Luciana sat next to me. A pair of sunglasses hung from the collar of her cream silk blouse, and her manicured fingers held a tiny espresso cup like she was observing the world, not just sipping coffee. In the golden light of late afternoon, she looked like an editorial photo straight out of a Milan lifestyle magazine—elegant, calm, and too perfectly composed to read clearly.But I could feel something. A subtle shift. A deliberate pause.“Aaric seems... more relaxed, doesn’t he?” she said suddenly, her tone light—but not empty

  • Stealing My Sister's Fiancee   Flashback — Behind the Porcelain Smile

    Luciana Bernardi served tea like an elegant witch brewing a secret potion—every movement slow and deliberate, yet never showy. Her gaze was sharp, but not piercing. Her smile was precise, but not fake. And from the beginning to the end of our little tea session, she called me darling—in an Italian-accented English that made the word sound like a cello melody.“Darling, this lemon cake was made by our family chef,” she said, handing me a small plate. “He has a soft spot for beautiful guests who know how to appreciate good food.”Beside me, Giancarlo—whose face looked like an older, more stone-cut version of Aaric’s—gave a slow nod.“We enjoy these relaxed lunches,” he said, his voice deep and full. “No need for stiff galas or exhausting charity events. At this table, we’re just family. No ‘Bernardi.’ Just Luciana, Giancarlo, Aaric… and now, Maya.”My heart swelled a little at that. Even my fingers stopped fidgeting with the napkin in my lap.“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice catchin

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