All Chapters of His Ex Mistress, His Enemy: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The night sky outside the suite window was actually pretty. But nothing feels pretty when your whole stomach acts like it’s on a backwards roller coaster while singing the Colombian national anthem.I curled up on the bed, my face pressed to the cold pillow, breaths catching between little moans that kept getting more dramatic. My whole body trembled; my skin was hot like a cheap toaster left on. Cold sweat mixed with fake tears, and yeah, I was pretty sure I was half dying.“I want to go home,” I mumbled, not knowing who I was talking to. “Bring me lasagna… the ricotta lasagna from that restaurant in Rome… the one whose tomato sauce does not stab feelings.”Sheena burst out laughing. “She’s delirious. Hear that, Win? Lasagna.”I opened my eyes and, through the fog, saw Winona sitting cross-legged on the other bed, rubbing balm into the soles of my bare feet with dedicated care. “You know whose fault this is, right?” she asked.“Zane,” I hissed, looking at Winona. “It’s all his fault…

FlashbackThat ceiling wasn’t unfamiliar. But it was too luxurious to be mine.I squinted. The air felt too crisp, too scented, and the sheets brushing against my legs? Like something cursed by angels. When I shifted and rolled over slowly, I saw him.Zane.Lying on his back, bare chest rising and falling like he had zero debt and even fewer regrets. His hair was a mess, but of course, still looked like a cologne ad. His left arm rested over part of his face, while the half-open curtains cast a sliver of light right across his jaw.I didn’t move. Just stared.And somehow, something crawled up my chest. Not a cough. Not the remnants of a sea allergy. Something worse.Feelings.Shit.I shook my head hard and got out of bed. My body felt light, my head no longer a brick. The meds and ten hours of sleep had done their job. I remembered vaguely Theo (the doctor) had explained something before I knocked out again. The IV was gone now.I took a deep breath and slipped out of the suite.The o

FlashbackI kept chewing. One more bite of lasagna. One more grilled shrimp. Maybe if I filled my stomach enough, the other part of me, pride, would feel full too and finally shut the hell up.Winona and Sheena exchanged glances, then pretended to get interested in their salads. But I knew they were watching me. Waiting for what? An outburst? A meltdown? A scene?All they got was me, dragging over the tiramisu and poking at it like I was testing the weather.We went back to the suite not long after. No one said much. Sheena was too busy grinning at her phone, probably stalking my brother again. Winona let out a dramatic yawn and flopped onto her bed like a lazy pancake.Me? I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, washing my face like it could rinse the inside of my skull too.But the night stretched. Long. Too quiet. And worse .. too honest.Our room was already dark when I got back from bathroom. Sheena collapsed onto the mattress, still in her heels. Winona changed into her

FlashbackSheena was busy smearing on lip gloss that tasted like either strawberry or trouble. Winona stood in front of the mirror, holding up two pairs of earrings like she was choosing which one screamed rich louder.I stood in the middle of the suite, clipping on my tiny emergency gold hoops.The dress wasn’t the most revealing thing I owned. But it sure as hell wasn’t funeral-appropriate either. Deep wine red. Thigh-high slit. Open back. The cut was simple, but the silhouette looked like the devil had a one-night stand with Chanel.My makeup was light. Just sharp eyeliner and a nude lip. Enough to say I wasn’t trying too hard, but also... don’t stare too long unless you wanna get burned.“You do realize,” Sheena said, sweeping her hair to one side as she stepped closer, “when you show up looking like this... and Zane Romano just happens to be around... it’s suspicious.”Winona arched a brow. “Seriously. You only wear dresses for two reasons. One, when Satan sends a formal invite.

FlashbackZane’s hand moved slowly from my waist to my arm, trailing up past my shoulder before stopping at the side of my face. His fingers brushed my cheek like he was touching something breakable.I wasn’t the breakable type.But under that gaze, under the weight of those deep blue eyes that looked far too serious, I felt like I could crack wide open.I turned my head, just slightly, out of reflex. But he didn’t budge. He just stood there. Silent. Waiting. Like he was giving me a chance to run, or punch him, or do literally anything other than stand there with my breath all out of rhythm.“You’re so beautiful, Dianna.”I almost laughed.Because it was insane.Insane how those simple words managed to shift something inside my chest. Made me forget how to think. Forget I was standing on a hundred-million-dollar yacht in a party dress that fit too tight, in the arms of a man I was supposed to hate with everything I had.My mouth opened, probably to throw a jab, maybe to deny it. But n