Sky
[The Emerald Grotto, 2nd floor, VIP number 5, 15 minutes left.]
My hands trembled as I read the message, clutching the phone tightly. This wasn’t just a meeting—this was a gateway to long-lost freedom. After years of locking myself away in a prison called marriage, I was finally reconnecting with the deLuca family—the blood and name I once buried for a love gone wrong.
Felix used to be someone I believed could protect me. Promised me a future. Gave me a sense of security. But all of it was an illusion, and the future he painted turned out to be a dark room with no exit. My only path now was to return to the one person I could truly trust. My family.
As soon as I hid my secret phone under the pillow, the door burst open. Felix walked in, and I held my breath, pretending to be busy at my easel. The brush in my hand moved as if I was immersed in the painting—but really, that canvas had long lost its meaning. Painting had always been my escape. I used to love it more than anything, before martial arts became mandatory because of family rules.
Ever since I married Felix, I could only paint when he wasn’t home. He was always too busy, too distant, too full of secrets. And I was too stupid to question any of it.
“Sofia and I are going to Finland the day after tomorrow,” he said, like it was a casual update. My hand froze, but I didn’t turn to face him. Not this time.
“Jayden wants to see the Northern Lights. Sofia wanted to invite you, but—”
“Go,” I cut him off, returning to ruin the already ruined canvas.
Felix took a deep breath and said, “I don’t want you to misunderstand and hurt Sofia again. She meant well. But you’ve never been allowed to travel far.”
The same excuse. Back then, I might have believed it. But now I knew it was all manipulation. They blamed it on weak mental health, trauma, and emotional instability. All crafted lies to keep me feeling unworthy of leaving the house. Unworthy of healing. Unworthy of fighting back.
“Sofia and I are going shopping with Jayden. Don’t worry, I’ll buy you that branded bag you like,” he added.
His rough hand landed on my head, like a father patting a child. Just briefly, then he left. No hug. No warmth.
The brush in my hand snapped.
Enough. I wouldn’t fall for the manipulation again. It was all a distraction—a tactic to keep my mood in check so I wouldn’t lash out at Sofia, the drama queen who always managed to steal sympathy.
After making sure Felix’s car had left the house, I got ready. Coat on, important documents tucked safely into my bag. It was time to meet the one person I could still trust.
The bar on the edge of town looked quiet from the outside, but The Emerald Grotto held more secrets than my entire marriage. VIP room number 5. Second floor.
Dante deLuca was already there, lounging with his usual calm, a cup of untouched coffee before him.
“Long time no see, Ally. You look like hell,” he said with that signature smirk.
Dante. My father's right-hand man. A brother and protector during my overseas tour to win taekwondo matches-which was really just a mask to carry out missions in the countries we visited.
He was also the witness to my meeting with Felix. When Felix was cornered by some thugs and I helped him. Unexpectedly, he returned the favor when I got into a car accident.
It all sounded like a plan. But I didn't know what the reason was.
I sat down wordlessly and handed over the folder I had prepared.
“Investigate these hospitals,” I said briefly.
Dante opened the folder, glanced at the contents, and raised an eyebrow. “The dumb deLuca finally woke up.”
I didn’t argue. I had been stupid. If I hadn’t drowned in despair, I could’ve looked for answers much sooner. But I let Felix keep me sedated with sweet nothings, convincing me to live in suffering.
“Here’s your divorce file,” Dante said, handing me another folder. “Flight’s in two days. Mrs. Moretti—or should I say, Miss deLuca.”
He smirked, stood, and walked away without another word. Typical Dante—disappearing as suddenly as he appeared.
I stared down at the divorce papers in my hand. Two more days. Just two.
I only had to hold on a little longer. And when it’s over—I’ll rise again. Not as a discarded wife. Not as a pitiful crippled woman. But as Alessia deLuca.
And that name—will become hell for everyone who betrayed me.
