Beyond the DeLuca Name

Adrian came home close to midnight.

He smelled of champagne and a woman’s perfume. Two buttons at his collar were open, and there was lipstick near his collarbone.

“You’re still up?” he asked with a smile. “Waiting for me?”

He used to pull me into his arms the moment he got home. This time he only loosened his cuffs and went straight into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I heard Noah crying.

He was sitting on his bed with his tablet in his lap. Sophia had posted a story. There was a pink baby grand piano, a new tablet, a custom ballet dress, and Adrian’s hand in the corner of the frame.

The caption read, “Thank you to the best daddy in the world for remembering every wish.”

Noah wiped his face. “Mom, I saw the order for that piano in Dad’s study.”

That hurt more than anything Adrian had said to me.

He had always told Noah that boys should not be spoiled. Noah had wanted one model car for months, and Adrian kept putting him off. Yet he remembered every wish another child made.

I held Noah close. “From now on, if you want something, your mother will get it for you.”

After Noah fell asleep, I waited in the living room.

“Weren’t you going to bring Noah a gift?” I asked when Adrian came out.

He rubbed his wet hair with a towel. “I forgot. He’s a kid. We can get him something anytime.”

“You didn’t forget Sophia’s gifts.”

He stopped.

“Evelyn,” he said, his voice heavier now, “why are you comparing them? Sophia doesn’t have a father. Is it wrong for me to take care of her?”

“A piano, a tablet, dresses, and a birthday cake you made yourself. That’s more than taking care of her.”

The room went quiet.

A moment later he tried to soften his tone. “Noah’s birthday is the day after tomorrow. I’ve already prepared a surprise for him. And you should get ready for Stockholm. Relax for once.”

I turned away and went to the study.

The next evening, the DeLuca family’s spring banquet was held at the Black Rose Club. I should have been the one running it. I always handled that room.

Instead, Bianca stood near the head table in a burgundy dress and smiled at the guests.

“Since Evelyn is taking time away, I can host tonight,” she said. “I’m family too.”

The room fell silent.

That seat was never just a chair. It was a statement.

I looked at Adrian.

He paused, then said, “Do as Bianca suggested. Evelyn is resting. Bianca will handle the social side tonight.”

Even the family lawyer frowned.

I lifted my wineglass and said, “Fine.”