He Dismissed Me, I Faked My Engagement

Chapter 4

Yesterday, he told me he was "done playing around."

Done with the parties.

Done with the women.

Ready to settle down and accept the political marriage his family had arranged for him.

He said it while staring directly at my face.

My expression didn't change.

"Oh."

He frowned.

"Oh?"

"...Is there something you need me to do, then, boss?"

His mood visibly darkened.

So he started drinking.

Started flirting.

And somehow that led to one reckless night and five hundred thousand dollars.

This morning, full of hope, I asked him:

What are we?

If he had told me he loved me, I would have swallowed my pride and finally confessed.

I've loved you for a very long time, Lucian.

Instead, disappointment was all I got.

I lay in that bed until sunrise, waiting for him to say one thing.

Stay.

He never did.

He only crushed a cigar into the ashtray, wired the money, and asked,

"One more round. Another five hundred grand."

That was the moment I finally understood.

To Lucian Ferraro, I would always be something with a price tag attached.

Childhood friend.

Best friend.

Situationship.

He could give me a thousand different labels.

Except the only one that mattered.

I love you.

Fine.

Then I didn't love him anymore either.