Part 3The Don’s Runaway Substitute

Dante looked at me as if no one had ever used that word on him before.

“Free?”

His voice was low. I nodded. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” He was quiet for a few seconds before picking up his car keys from the console.

“Fine.” At the door, he glanced back once.

“Then you’d better remember what you said today.”

Only after the door closed did I slowly unclench my hands. The floating comments appeared at once.

【She’s doing a pretty good job pretending to be generous.】

【Dante has already gone to pick up Bianca. She doesn’t seriously think she still has a chance, does she?】

【Now that Bianca is back, she’d better figure out when to leave. Waiting until Dante gets tired of her would be a mistake.】

I stopped reading. If those words were telling the truth, I needed to make sure I still had a way out. I went upstairs to the study and pulled out an old laptop I hadn’t used in a long time.

For the past three years, almost every part of my life had been tied to Dante. The driver came from the Romano family. Most of my daily expenses went on the card he gave me.

My phone plan, insurance, and even the building fees for the apartment were handled by his people.

I used to think it meant he wanted to take care of me. Only now, when I was seriously considering leaving, did I realize how little I controlled on my own.

I created a new email account that only I knew about and started making a list of what I would need if I left New York without involving anyone connected to the Romano family.

Cash, a prepaid phone, somewhere Dante wouldn’t think to look, and a train ticket or flight purchased through an account he couldn’t see.

I wasn’t planning to disappear forever. I only wanted to put enough distance between us to end things safely once Bianca was fully back in his life.

But if the comments were right, I couldn’t let Dante realize what I was doing before I was gone. My phone rang. Maya.

She was one of the few people I knew in New York who had absolutely nothing to do with the Romano family. The moment I answered, she said, “Ivy, have you seen the news?”

“What news?”

“Bianca DeLuca is back.”

My pen stopped. Maya sounded far more worked up about it than I did.

“She landed at JFK this afternoon. Dante picked her up himself, and the DeLucas are throwing her a welcome dinner tonight.”

“I know.” There was a short silence.

“You know?”

“Dante told me before he left.”

“And you just let him go?” I leaned back in my chair.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Ivy, you used to call me if some woman talked to him for two minutes at a party because you wanted to know who she was.” She paused.

“Now Dante personally goes to the airport to pick up Bianca DeLuca, and all you have to say is ‘what was I supposed to do’?” I didn’t answer. Her tone changed immediately.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“No.”

“Then what’s going on?” I looked at the list on my laptop.

“Maya, I’m just tired. I don’t want to spend every day watching where Dante goes or wondering who matters more to him.”

“If he wants to see Bianca, he can see her.” Maya was quiet for a moment.

“You don’t sound okay.” I rolled the pen between my fingers.

“Maya, can you lend me some money?”

“How much?”

“A hundred and fifty thousand.”

“What?”

“No, sorry.” I rubbed my forehead. “Fifteen thousand.” She let out a breath.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.” A small laugh escaped me.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“The money isn’t the problem.” She hesitated.

“Ivy, what are you planning to do?”

“Stay somewhere else for a while.”

“Does Dante know?”

“Not yet.”

Maya had known me for three years and knew exactly how attached I had always been to Dante, so she understood quickly.

“You’re leaving him?” I didn’t answer directly.

“Just don’t tell anyone yet, okay? Especially no one connected to the Romano family.” She didn’t push.

“Okay.”

Less than ten minutes later, the transfer came through. I stared at the balance in my account and, for the first time, felt like I had something that belonged entirely to me.

That evening, I didn’t wait for Dante to come home. I made myself a simple dinner and sat at the kitchen island, going over the plan again. My phone lit up. A photo had come in from an unknown number.

I opened it. The background was a private dining room at the top of a hotel, Manhattan glittering through the windows.

Dante stood among the guests in the same black suit he had worn when he left. A woman stood beside him. Bianca DeLuca.

She wore an ivory dress, one hand resting on the bar beside Dante as she turned toward him to speak.

Dante had angled his head in her direction, apparently listening. There was nothing inappropriate in the picture. No touching. No embrace. Nothing I could actually accuse him of.

And yet I stared at Bianca for a long time. We did look somewhat alike. Dark hair. Similar eyes. Even the shape of our faces carried a faint resemblance.

But she looked more composed than I ever felt, like someone who had grown up knowing exactly where she belonged.

I could have called Dante. I could have asked him whether Bianca was the reason he had chosen me three years ago.

But questions were only brave when you believed you could survive the answer.

If he denied it, I would wonder whether he was only trying to keep me calm. And if he admitted it, I would have to hear him say that the happiest three years of my life had never truly belonged to me.

The comments appeared almost immediately.

【See? That’s the woman Dante was really waiting for.】

【Bianca has barely been back a few hours and he already picked her up himself and went to her welcome dinner.】

【Now she should finally understand why Dante spoiled her for three years.】

Before I could close the photo, another message arrived from the same number. Only one sentence.

He was never yours.

I stared at the words for several seconds before blocking the number.

Only one sentence. He was never yours. I stared at the words for several seconds before blocking the number.

If someone had sent me something like this before, I probably would have gone straight to Dante and demanded an explanation. Tonight, I simply reopened my laptop and looked at the list I had made.

For the first time, leaving no longer felt like an angry thought I would abandon the next morning. Bianca was already back.

There was no reason for me to keep pretending I still belonged in Dante’s life. All I needed now was a chance to leave.