THINGS NOT SAID
1253 Words
Do you always look like you’re about to commit murder at breakfast?” Luca asked as he buttered his toast like it was a surgical procedure.
I sat across from him in the penthouse suite, dressed in a crisp white blouse and black slacks, the perfect image of a billionaire’s new wife. Except I wasn’t smiling. I wasn’t playing house. And I wasn’t eating.
“I don’t eat lies for breakfast,” I muttered.
He chuckled and sipped his coffee. “That’s rich coming from you.”
I stiffened.
He didn’t know, I reminded myself.
No one did.
The secret was still mine. Ivy was still safe.
For now.
But every second I sat in this gold-plated prison pretending to be Mrs. De Luca, I was gambling with everything I’d built.
We were photographed together outside the Four Seasons that afternoon. Arm in arm. A power couple. Luca whispered something that made me laugh on cue, and my fingers clung to his forearm like it was instinct like we were something real.
We weren’t.
Behind my sunglasses, I scanned the crowd, hyper-aware of every click, every flash, every whisper. If one reporter dug too deep, if one tabloid tracked my records past Paris, if one face from my past remembered
I shook it off.
I’d buried that life.
I was Aurora Calais now heiress, socialite, wife of a billionaire.
No one would look at me and guess I was also a mother.
Later that night, I slipped away while Luca took a call with one of his partners.
The house was too quiet.
I needed to see her.
Ivy was staying with my godmother, Camilla, in Brooklyn. Out of reach, out of sight. Camilla knew the stakes and had promised to keep her protected. No social media. No photos. No strangers.
Still, I needed eyes on her.
I parked a block away and waited until the street was empty before buzzing the door.
Camilla answered with a knowing look.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.”
“She’s asleep.”
“Can I just… see her?”
Camilla nodded and stepped aside. Her small brownstone smelled of lavender and soup, and for the first time in days, my pulse slowed.
I crept into the spare bedroom and knelt by the little bed.
Ivy’s tiny chest rose and fell beneath her pale pink sheets. She wore the unicorn pajamas I’d bought her for her third birthday. A stuffed lion clutched in one hand.
My hand trembled as I reached to stroke her curls.
You’re doing this for her, I reminded myself.
Marry the devil to give your angel the world.
I returned to the penthouse past midnight.
Luca was waiting in the living room, tie loose, whiskey in hand.
“You disappeared,” he said.
I shrugged out of my coat. “Had a meeting.”
“At midnight?”
I didn’t answer.
He set his glass down. “You’re not playing the role well, Aurora.”
“I’m not your pet actress.”
“You’re my wife.”
My head snapped up. “By contract.”
He came closer, stopping just short of touching me. “You think I don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“The way your hands shake when you think no one’s looking. The way you look over your shoulder like someone’s following you.”
I said nothing.
“You’re hiding something,” he said, voice low. “And I’m going to find out what.”
I tilted my head, forced a smile. “Good luck, husband. Just remember curiosity kills.”
He smiled back. “And satisfaction resurrects.”
The next day, it started unraveling.
I’d barely stepped into Luca’s office when his assistant, a pale redhead named Kendra, greeted me with a tight smile.
“Mrs. De Luca, can I get you anything?”
“Just Luca.”
“He’s in a call. He asked me to bring you to the conference lounge.”
I followed her through glass halls, the whole floor humming with sleek ambition and too much money.
She opened the door, gestured for me to enter.
And then she shut it behind me.
Luca wasn’t in the room.
But someone else was.
A man I hadn’t seen in three years.
My heart flatlined.
“Nice to see you again, Aurora,” said Julian Roth, Luca’s head of security and former right-hand to my father.
I didn’t move. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Julian looked older. Leaner. His hair had more silver at the temples, but the eyes were the same sharp, suspicious, and uncomfortably perceptive.
“I work for him now,” he said simply. “And he asked me to run a background check on you.”
I went cold. “You wouldn’t dare”
“I didn’t find much. You’re very thorough. Wiped clean. New IDs. New passport. But I’m not the only one digging.”
I swallowed. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying someone else knows you’re hiding something. And I don’t think Luca will forgive you when he finds out.”
“Finds out what?”
“That you’ve been lying since the day you walked back into his life.”
He dropped a photo envelope on the table.
I opened it.
Inside was a blurry photo of me outside Camilla’s brownstone… and a tiny figure in the background. Small. Curly-haired. Holding a toy lion.
I stopped breathing.
Julian folded his arms. “Who is she?”
I looked up slowly. “None of your damn business.”
“You think Luca’s going to agree?”
I shoved the envelope back at him. “You tell him, and I’ll burn this entire company to the ground.”
Julian stared at me for a long beat. “He deserves to know.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I snapped. “He gave up that right the day he chose war over love. He killed my father’s legacy. He humiliated my family. You think I’d ever let him near my daughter?”
Julian blinked. “She’s his?”
My silence was enough.
He exhaled. “You really planned this, didn’t you?”
“I planned survival.”
He stood. “So what happens now?”
I smiled bitterly. “Now we wait. And see who breaks first.”
That night, I walked into the penthouse expecting confrontation.
But Luca was calm.
Too calm.
He poured me a drink and asked how my day had been.
I watched him, carefully. “Why do I get the feeling you already know?”
He tilted his glass. “You’re not the only one who knows how to play chess.”
I froze. “What did you do?”
“I spoke to Julian.”
A pause. A flicker in his expression. “He told me you’ve been followed.”
My skin prickled.
“And?”
“And he gave me this.” He slid a USB across the table. “You might want to watch what’s on it.”
I stared at the drive. My hands didn’t move.
“You didn’t watch it?” I asked.
He gave nothing away.
“I want to hear it from you,” he said.
“Whatever it is… tell me now. Before I plug this in and change everything.”
My chest rose and fell in sharp bursts.
This was it.
My last chance.
But I wasn’t ready.
So I said nothing.
And walked away.
- Writer
