Chapter 4

That night, Summer posted three times on social media.

People in our circle who loved drama screenshot them and sent them to me.

Especially Adrian's replies. Those were highlighted extra carefully.

I knew they wanted to watch me fall apart.

Normally I'd lose my mind and run straight to Adrian, crying and raging.

He'd be annoyed. But he'd always cave, every time.

And that fed the illusion that I mattered to him.

Kept me coming back harder.

But this time, I didn't bite.

I dialed a number from seven days ago.

"Aunt Mariana, it's Gianna."

"That thing you mentioned. I've made my decision."

My parents died in an accident when I was seven.

The Valentinos were my legal guardians after that. They took me in.

Aunt Mariana was my mother's closest friend from their younger years.

But she ran off with her lover back then and lost all contact.

By the time her wandering life finally settled in Boston.

My parents were already gone.

Aunt Mariana wanted me to come live in Boston.

She also wanted to fulfill a promise she'd made with my mother when they were girls.

For me to marry into the Ricci family of Boston. To become her daughter-in-law.

Seven days ago, I said no.

But I couldn't bear to hurt her, so I told her I'd think about it.

Tonight, I suddenly let go of all those years of obsession.

One-sided devotion is just too pathetic.

I was done being the joke of our social circle.

Six months ago, Adrian arranged for me to take over the Boston business. It sounded like a big promotion, but it was really just exile from the New York power circle. He shipped me off so he and Summer could play house in peace.

Back then I refused. Cried my eyes out for days.

But he never budged.

Now, it felt like a gift.

Maybe, somewhere in the design of things, it was meant to be.

On the other end of the line, Aunt Mariana's laughter brimmed with joy.

"Gianna, Matteo's been waiting for you to say yes."

"So he can fly to New York and propose."

I gripped my phone. Heat crept up my face.

But the laughter in my ear left me dazed.

Letting him go didn't take seven years. Or even seven days. Just one moment. One decision.

The moment I called Aunt Mariana and said the words "I agree," I ripped the name Adrian out of my heart completely.