Bulletproof Heart Finally Breaks

Four days until our ten-year anniversary. Four days until Lorenzo's second attempt at an engagement party.

I sat in my studio, a videotape in my hand.

This was my big gift for Lorenzo.

A souvenir he would never, ever forget.

For the next two days, Lorenzo didn't come home.

But he texted me every day.

"I promise I won't let you down."

"Tomorrow, I'll give you the perfect engagement party."

"You'll be the most beautiful fiancée in New York."

I stared at the messages, my nails digging into my palms.

Perfect? Beautiful?

He was juggling me and Juliana and had the nerve to talk about perfection?

Meanwhile, Juliana's posts were like knives in my heart.

A photo of Lorenzo with her at my family home in Chicago, having dinner with my father and stepmother.

Juliana had her arm linked through Lorenzo's, smiling like a flower in bloom.

My father was clapping Lorenzo on the shoulder. My stepmother was serving them food.

The three of them, laughing and talking.

They looked like a perfect little family.

And me, his own daughter, I was the outsider.

That used to tear me apart. Now, I just watched. Cold. I burned every detail into my memory.

It's okay, Juliana. Enjoy your moment.

It won't last long.

The day before the party, just when I thought I wouldn't see him again, Lorenzo pulled up to my apartment.

"My mother wants to see you."

I didn't want to go, but he insisted.

As I got into the passenger seat, I smelled a perfume that wasn't mine.

I closed my eyes, telling myself to ignore it. One more day and I'd be free.

Then my hand slipped down into the gap of the seat. My fingers brushed against lace.

Black lace. A pair of panties.

I snatched my hand back like I’d been burned.

Lorenzo was focused on driving. He didn't notice a thing.

My stomach churned.

I could picture it. Juliana, sitting right here. Lorenzo's hands on her.

Her soft moans as he kissed her, smearing her lipstick.

The panties torn off.

Right here in this car.

Just like us, over the years.

"Ugh..." I gagged.

"What's wrong?" Lorenzo asked, clueless.

He opened the console cooler and held out a coffee.

"You look pale. Drink this."

I shook my head. That's when I saw it.

A half-used tube of Chanel lipstick.

There was still a lip print on the side.

"Car sick," I gritted out. "I'm sitting in the back."

I rolled down the window, and by the time we arrived, the sickly-sweet smell was finally gone.

Mrs. Moretti was waiting in the living room.

Her eyes sized me up, and she wasn't pleased.

"Isabella." Her voice was pure ice. "You made our family a joke. All of New York is laughing at us because of that disaster of an engagement party."

She lifted her coffee cup, a picture of elegance.

"I know Lorenzo has been seeing that girl. Men need their... distractions. But this engagement is business. It's about the family name."

She set the cup down.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't care what you have to do. Tomorrow goes off without a hitch. You need to remember, it is a privilege to become a Moretti wife. Everyone knows you're his fiancée. We're giving you this title. So you will be grateful, and you will do your part for this family."

She wanted me to fall in line.

To accept his little slut on the side, just so I could keep the ring on my finger.

She expected me to be grateful for the scraps.

I looked down, hiding the sarcasm in my eyes.

"I understand, Mrs. Moretti." I forced a smile.

I thought about the little gift I had waiting for them. All of Juliana's dirty secrets.

A real smile touched my lips then. A cold one.

Let's see how proud you are tomorrow, when the Moretti name is dragged through the mud all over again.

On the way back, Lorenzo's phone rang.

"Jules? ...What? Your stomach hurts? I'm on my way!"

He was instantly on edge, like it was a life-or-death call.

He'd never been that worried about me when I was sick.

"Go be with your sister," my voice was eerily calm. "She needs you."

Lorenzo let out a breath, as if my permission was some great gift.

"You're so understanding."

Understanding?

I wanted to laugh.

After tomorrow, you'll be nothing to me.

...

Back at my apartment, a beautiful box was waiting at the door.

The wedding dress.

A text from Lorenzo came through: "For tomorrow's party. You'll be the most beautiful fiancée. I promise."

The most beautiful fiancée.

I picked up the videotape, a crazed light in my eyes.

You want a perfect engagement party, Lorenzo?

I'll give you one you'll never forget.