Chapter 11

691 Words
Chapter 11 – Embers of a Broken Crown ⸻ I barely made it to my room before collapsing. The door slammed shut behind me, and I hit the floor like I’d been punched in the chest. My legs gave way, hoodie stained with tears and mascara. The villa’s opulent quiet mocked me—too calm, too final. “He let her,” I whispered into the darkness. “He let her kiss him.” My fists pounded the rug—but it didn’t help. Pain flashed across my chest. Not because of his physical touch with Joan, but because he didn’t stop it. Did he even care? Flashback: What really happened I’d been so furious I’d run. Stumbled down stairs, through hallways. I felt an ache worse than betrayal—like I was dying from a wound I couldn’t see. Behind me, I heard steps. One soft thud after another. He chased me. “ARIANA!” he had shouted. But I didn’t stop. Not until I reached the courtyard—the cold air hitting wet tears like punishment. He finally caught me there, breathless. Silence. Just our bodies in the dark. No words. But then… he touched me. Not roughly. Not comforting. Hesitant. As if he knew he’d just crushed me inside. He said, “I didn’t—” Then left. Just walked away, leaving me under the night sky with a heart in pieces. That’s when it became real: he didn’t see me anymore—he only saw Joan. ⸻ I sat in the dark long after the tears stopped. When my throat stopped aching, I pulled myself to my feet. My chest felt hollow, but I had to do something. He needed to know what it felt like to lose me. I paced until a soft knock came at my window. He shouldn’t see me like this. But Lucas slid in anyway, closing it quietly behind him. “Holy hell,” he whispered, taking in the dark circles and trembling shoulders. “You look like something crawled through your soul and died.” I stared at him, angry. “I hate you.” He sat beside me, placing a hand on my thigh. “But you called me.” I didn’t answer. He waited. Then asked gently, “Tell me?” The Breakdown I burst. Tears I’d held in unleashed, burning and loud. “I watched her cling to him—laugh at something he whispered. He didn’t stop her. He let her. I need him to feel this. I need him to hurt.” Lucas watched through lashes, soft but fierce. I pounded my fist on the mattress. “I can’t be the good daughter anymore. Not when he doesn’t see me.” He reached for my hand. “So be the sin he can’t ignore.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how.” Lucas smiled—sad and proud. “I’ll teach you.” The Plan Born We spent the next two hours plotting. Lucas was ruthless—cold even—luxuriating in Ariana’s heartbreak. He taught her how to walk into his sight like she owned the air. How to smile when tears wanted to fall. How to dress like temptation with heartache hidden. I laid it all on the line: shortened skirt, new red bodysuit. Eyes brighter than pleas. By the end, I was shaking—but with power. “Let him chase me,” I whispered. “Let him feel me going away.” Lucas leaned in, whispering, “When he sees you, he’ll burn. And he’ll come back to that fire.” ⸻ I drifted off in his arms, tears drying but resolve hardening. He kissed my hair and said, “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we begin.” Cliffhanger Morning came quickly. I reopened my eyes, saw the softness of his gaze. “Tell me again,” I whispered. “Promise me he’ll come for me.” Lucas’s smile was tender. “He will. But first—he has to know you’re gone.” I closed my eyes. And for the first time since he kissed Joan, I felt ready.
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