Chapter 5

Author’s Pov

I am done. 

The penthouse door clicked shut behind Aurelia with a soft finality that felt like the end of everything.

Her heart was a raw, bleeding thing inside her chest, aching so violently she wondered if it might simply stop. She stood frozen in the foyer for a long moment, staring at nothing. The cold marble floor reflected the dim city lights like shattered glass. 

Dante loved Aisha. He always had. He would always choose her. So why did this betrayal carve me open like a fresh wound? Why did it feel like dying?

Her bag slipped from her numb fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. She didn’t pick it up. Instead she walked, slow and mechanical, toward the wide leather couch that still smelled faintly of his cologne. 

The whole penthouse smelled of him, reminded her of him. 

She sank down onto the couch, inch by inch until she was curled into herself, knees drawn up and her arms wrapped tight around her middle as if she could physically hold the pieces together.

Hot tears spilled over without permission, tracking silent paths down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was in pain, she was hurt and no one was there to comfort her. 

Flashbacks assaulted her mind without mercy.

The way Dante pinned her wrists above her head, dark eyes burning into hers as he growled, “Say it. Who do you belong to?”

Her broken, desperate moan. “You- only you, Dante-”

The brutal rhythm of his hips claiming her, the way she’d begged him. So shamelessly and so wrecked. “Harder- please, Dante, harder-”

Falling asleep afterward in the cage of his arms with her cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the steady thunder of his heartbeat and thinking for one stupid, fragile moment that she was safe. That she was wanted. That he was hers. 

A fresh sob tore from her throat. Something inside her twisted with so much pain, rage and maybe, just maybe with a pathetic flicker of hope. Perhaps, he would be hers. 

Maybe she could fight for him.

Maybe she could win against Aisha.

Maybe he would choose her if she just-

She wanted to give it a try. She did not want to be one of those who’d give up without trying. Well she wanted to try till the end. Her trembling hand shot out as she snatched the bag from the floor. 

She fumbled for her phone and her fingers were shaking so badly that she almost dropped it twice. She dialed Dante’s number. She let out a trembling sigh and waited. 

One ring. Two. Three.

Nothing.

She tried again. And again.

Finally- on the fifth attempt- the line connected. “Dante-” But it wasn’t him. “Mrs. Salvatore?” The voice was polite, apologetic, and familiar. Dani, his assistant. “I’m so sorry to bother you, ma’am, but Mr. Salvatore left his phone behind. He’s gone to the airport to pick up Ms. Hayden. He asked me to keep it with me in case-”

That was it. That was enough for Aurelia to know. The phone slipped from her fingers and clattered against the marble. Her heart didn’t just clench- it fucking seized. She stared at the blank screen for one stunned second.

Then she screamed.

A raw, guttural sound ripped out of her. She lunged forward, slamming the phone down again and again until the screen spiderwebbed and shattered into glittering pieces.

“Fuck you,” she snarled at the broken thing. “Fuck you, Dante Salvatore.”

She grabbed the nearest cushion and hurled it across the room. Another. Another. They thudded uselessly against the wall as she screamed again- heartbroken. 

Finally, when the rage ebbed, she was panting, shaking and kneeling on the cold floor. Her eyes landed on her bag again. On the plain white envelope tucked inside.

Vincent Salvatore’s doing. The divorce papers he’d quietly prepared for her- giving her a chance to live her life and escape this hell. 

She pulled them out with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling. The black ink stared back at her. Clean. Final. She had decided at that moment and she wanted to get it done right away. 

She found a pen on the coffee table, one Dante used to sign deals that ruined lives. She dropped to her knees again, spread the papers across the low table, and stared at the signature line.

For a long moment she didn’t move. Her hand shook uncontrollably that she feared the pen might drop and she wouldn’t be able to sign but she knew she had. She had no place in his life. Never had.  Then she pressed the tip of the pen to the paper.

“Aurelia Salvatore.”

The ink flowed smooth and dark.

She stared at her name- her married name, now crossed out in legal ink. “I hate you, Dante Salvatore,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I fucking hate you.”

She twisted the wedding band off her finger. The one she’d once stared at for hours because it meant he’d chosen her. The one she’d kissed goodnight when he was away on business.

She set it carefully on top of the signed papers.  Like a goodbye.

Then she stood and walked into the bedroom that was once “ theirs “ and opened the closet. She packed only what was hers,  the few dresses she’d bought herself, her old sweaters, the small box of childhood photos she’d kept hidden in the back. 

She didn’t touch anything he’d given her. Not the jewelry. Not the lingerie. Not the silk robe he liked to see her in. When the suitcase was zipped, she straightened.

She looked around one last time with a heavy heart, at the bed where he’d made her beg, at the windows where city lights still glittered like they didn’t know her world had ended.

Then she walked out, leaving the old miserable life she had lived till now. Vincent’s driver was waiting outside, as always. He took the suitcase without a word, opening the car door for her.

Aurelia paused on the sidewalk. The cold wind sliced through her sweater, but she barely felt it. “Sir,” she whispered, voice so small it almost disappeared. “May I borrow your phone? Just one call.”

He handed it over without question as she dialed Mia. Three rings. “Hello?” Mia’s voice was professional at first, then instantly alarmed. “Who is this?”

“Mia.”

“Lia?” The shift was immediate. Worry flooded every syllable. “Baby, whose phone are you calling from? Why do you sound like that? Are you okay? Where are you?” Aurelia pressed her lips together, fighting the sob clawing up her throat. “Mia. I need a favor.”

“Lia, you’re scaring me. What happened? Talk to me- did he hurt you? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe,” Aurelia lied, voice trembling. “But I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“No one can know.” Aurelia’s voice cracked on the next words. “No one can know that I’m pregnant. Especially not… not Dante. No one can know I’m carrying Dante Salvatore’s child.”

It was silent on the other end. Then Mia’s voice echoed. It was low, fierce and heartbroken. “Oh, Lia… oh God. What did he do?” Aurelia closed her eyes as a tear slipped free. “He chose her,” she whispered. “He’s at the airport right now. Picking her up. I just… I signed the papers. I left the ring. I’m done, Mia. I’m done letting him break me.”

Mia sucked in a shaky breath. “You’re sure? You’re really sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” There was another pause. Then Mia’s voice steady soft, but steel underneath.

“Okay. Then it stays between us. Doctor-patient confidentiality. No records under your name if we can help it. No one will know. Not him. Not Vincent. Not anyone. You have my word.” Aurelia let out a trembling exhale. “Thank you.”

“Where are you- where are you going now?” 

“I don’t know yet.” Her voice was barely audible. “But I’ll figure it out. For the baby. For me.”

“I’m here,” Mia said quietly. “Whenever you’re ready. Whenever you need me. You’re not alone, okay? You’re never alone.” Aurelia nodded even though Mia couldn’t see it. “I know.”

She ended the call and handed the phone back to the driver and finally stepped into the waiting car. The door closed with a quiet click. Aurelia placed one protective hand over her still-flat stomach.

This child- her child- would never know what it felt like to be a second choice.

She would make sure of it.