Damiano David Fiance の小説・ストーリー

“Damian didn’t even question it! He looked shocked, but he BOUGHT IT!” Her fiance laughed, a smug, wicked laugh. “I told you, love. Confidence wins the game. Damian may be smart, but he’s still a man. Men crumble when they hear ‘pregnant.’” Selene giggled, manic with relief. “Oh babe, you should have seen his face. He even apologized for doubting me. APOLOGIZED! Damian Cross apologized!” “Good,” he said. “That means the wedding will move faster.” Selene’s smile turned sly, almost feral.

“Great then. I'll drive you there and leave to the arena. Damian's gonna kill me if I'm late.” “Yeah, just go. You did enough for me today. Thank you, Ave,” Tom kissed her cheek. “Mrs Foster!” Avery met Heidi and Jacob in front of the arena. “You came here too?” “We just came to greet them. We're going to watch a movie now.” Damian's mom and the doctor started dating a few months ago. They became close since they met during the graduation party, and they got to know each other and have been in so many dates until they decided to take the things seriously and Jacob asked her out.

“Slowly. But dying.” Something shifted in Marco’s face. This hit him. He’d known Vittorio almost as long as Damian had — grew up in that house, got half-raised by the old man, just like most of the senior staff. “I’m sorry, sir.” “He wants me married.” Damian let out a dry laugh, but it sounded more like nerves. The words still felt unreal. “Before the end of the season. Not engaged. Married.” Marco froze. “That’s—sir, that’s barely three months.”

"In her bed. In her fiancé's bed. Did you plan this? Did you plan this from the start, you ungrateful little bastard?" "It was an accident," I said. My voice cracked down the middle. "The full moon, we didn't choose—" "Save it." Marisol's grip tightened. "Everyone will know what you are by morning. A slut who couldn't keep her hands off her own sister's mate." "Enough." Kian's voice. Flat. Final. Marisol's hand froze in my hair. "Last night was an accident," he said, still not looking at me, only at her. "It changes nothing. My engagement to Priya stands."

Act like nobody knows a thing. Damien's hard eyes meet mine, and he gives me an up-down, followed by a subtle smirk. He clears his throat. "Everyone, I'm sure many of you heard the news, but have not yet gotten the opportunity to meet my personal assistant and new lovely fiancée, Hannah." I turn to face them and force myself to appear confident as I wave. "Hello. It's nice to meet all of you." I'm met with many unexpectedly warm eyes, several of whom offer their congratulations.

The lovers embrace and kiss each other in front of everyone in the house, joyfully declaring David and Daniele's instant marriage plan. Someone in the crowd whispers to Daniele's elder brother that David is her boyfriend and that she is David's first girlfriend since they were in Italy. Daniele's brother approaches her from behind the crowd and tells her what the woman outside told her about her affairs with David. Daniele dashes inside the house, dragging David behind the walls.

Damian hesitated, wary of committing blindly. "That's the only way. Please, you have to promise me," Vivian insisted, desperation in her voice. "Alright, then. I promise you. You have my word," Damian relented, giving in to her request. "Good, good, good," she said, a sense of relief evident in her voice. "You know my fiance is a cop, right?" she asked, her tone filled with concern. Damian nodded in response.

For the only person who ever chose me. I closed my eyes slowly. “I won’t let history repeat itself,” I whispered. “Not this time.” Just then, my phone buzzed again. I reached for it, expecting a message from Charlotte or Mandy. Instead, it was a new notification. A picture. My stomach dropped. It was a photo of me and Damian leaving the hospital together last night. The angle was distant, grainy—but unmistakably us. And below it, a message: You’re playing with fire, Vivian.

“I didn't want to do this.” She pauses. “I honestly wanted to deal with this privately.” She wipes away a tear. “I still love Damien.” The comments begin flying. “I know everyone watched his press conference yesterday. “I know what he said.” She nods slowly, “And I forgive him.” I frown. Forgive him? Where is this going? “He didn't lie but he didn't say the whole truth.” Another pause. “The truth is... we were planning our future together. We were really engaged. He just called it off last week.”

I took nothing extra—just a few changes of clothes, my passport, and the documents Professor Clark had sent. My phone buzzed again. Evelyn had sent a photo—Damian was kneeling, tying her shoelaces in front of a luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue. The caption: [He said I will always be the woman he loves most. Selena, you should have never tried to compete.] I stared at the photo for a long time. Then, I sent a single reply. "Since you’re the one he loves, you can have him. I’m done." Sent. I placed the phone on the coffee table in the living room.