Chapter 3 - Bruises Beneath the Diamonds

Lila’s POV

AFTER THE burial, tradition demanded we hold vigil at the house, where family and the inner circle gathered. No press, no outsiders, only blood and those bound by loyalty.

And it was suffocating.

Everywhere I turned, shadows clung to the walls, thick with smoke and grief. The room buzzed with low voices, whiskey glasses clinking, leather jackets shifting like restless wolves in mourning. My heels clicked against the hardwood floor, far too loud, like I didn’t belong in a place carved from blood and grit.

Eyes followed me, some pitying, some openly sneering. I lifted my chin higher, fingers brushing the cool diamond on my hand, as though that sparkle could shield me. Adrian’s voice echoed in my head, sharp as glass: Always hold your head high, Lila. Don’t let them see weakness.

But weakness was all I felt.

I was holding a paper-thin version of myself together when the perfume hit me, heady, expensive, laced with poison.

“Lila Montgomery,” Vivienne purred, her voice slicing through the haze. She stepped into the flickering light like a goddess carved in silk. Her black dress hugged every curve, her lips painted a cruel red that matched the gleam in her eyes. Her manicured nails grazed my bare arm, a touch that made my skin crawl.

“You came back after all. I thought the city had… refined you.” Her gaze slid over me, pausing at the snug dress I’d chosen—wrong for this world, too polished. “Or maybe softened you.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. I forced a smile. “I came for my father.”

Vivienne’s laugh was low, rich, and utterly cruel. “Oh, sweet thing. You’re still clumsy, Lila. Do you think anyone here will take you seriously? Do you think he will?”

The “he” was sharp, deliberate. Jacob.

I swallowed, pulse thudding. “I’m not here for Jacob.”

Her lips curved in a smirk that promised devastation. “Of course, why would you come here for Jacob if you already have filthy rich fiance—what’s his name again?”

I clenched my fist. “Adrian Cross—”

“Right. So where is he now? I heard you brought him here to flaunt his wealth?”

“O-Of course not—”

“So where is he?” Vivienne raised an eyebrow as she waited for me to answer.

“He… He went back to his car for a phone call,” I answered in a low voice. I could feel my cheeks turning red.

“Why don’t you go after him and leave this estate? You don’t belong here anymore.” Vivienne leaned closer, whispering so only I could hear. “And, Jacob would never want you. Not then, not now. You trip over your own feet. You break more than you fix. He’s a man who bleeds steel, and you—” her eyes raked over me with venom, “—you’re made of glass. And glass shatters.”

The words pierced deeper than I wanted to admit. My throat burned. I felt the eyes around us, the weight of judgment.

I excused myself before my voice could crack.

The kitchen was dim and smelled of stale coffee. I gripped the counter, steadying myself, pressing a trembling hand over my chest like it could hold me together. Don’t cry. Not here. Not now.

“Lila?”

I turned at the soft sound of my name. Marco Moore stood in the doorway, tall and quiet, a gentle contrast to the storm outside. His dark eyes softened when they found me, his posture careful as though he was afraid I’d break.

“I—” My voice failed.

He stepped closer, offering a glass of water. “Here. Sip.”

The cool liquid steadied me, grounding me in a way my diamond ring never could. Marco’s presence had always been like that, calm, steady. Even as kids, when the world burned, he was the one who sat with me in silence until the flames quieted in my head.

“You still wrinkle your nose when you’re upset,” he said gently.

My lips parted. “You remember that?”

His mouth quirked into a small smile. “Of course. You used to do it every time your dad told you to stay off the bikes. And every time Jacob teased you until you threw rocks at him.”

A laugh slipped out, small, broken, but real. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” he said simply.

The truth in his voice sank into me, warming the cracks Vivienne had carved open. I found myself studying his face, softer lines, a kind steadiness in his eyes that Adrian’s sharp perfection would never have.

“You’re stronger than they think, Lila,” Marco added, voice quiet. “Don’t let them make you forget it.”

My chest tightened. I wanted to believe him. For a moment, I almost did.

But reality clawed back when Adrian’s shadow fell across the doorway. His smile was flawless, polished as ever, but the grip he wrapped around my elbow was iron.

“Excuse us, Marco,” Adrian said smoothly, not waiting for a reply before pulling me away.

Adrian brought me to my old room, where we’d stay as long as the arrangements of my dad’s assets are done. I don’t know Adrian suddenly decided to follow me here at Minnesota, I thought he doesn’t like this place, especially my dad’s biker’s club.

“You embarrassed me tonight,” Adrian told me as soon as the door closed behind me.

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“You hid in the kitchen like a child,” he said, his tone low and controlled, each word precise. “Do you know how that looks? You’re supposed to be Mrs. Adrian Cross. You carry my name, my reputation. You don’t get to run off when someone whispers something unkind.”

I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “Vivienne wasn’t just—”

“Vivienne is irrelevant,” Adrian snapped, then caught himself, smile smoothing back over his face like silk hiding a blade. His hand found mine, too tight. “But what’s very relevant is us. Our future. You need to understand, Lila—your inheritance, your family’s assets, they matter now. To me. To us.”

His thumb stroked the diamond he’d given me, and the gesture made my stomach twist. His touch wasn’t comforting, it was ownership.

“You’ll stop this nonsense,” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “No more running off, no more weakness. You belong to me.”

I turned my face toward the window, hiding the tears burning behind my eyes.

For the first time in three years, I felt regret for leaving my father’s estate… and Jacob.