I Gave His Name to the Woman He Chose

I returned to the Moretti estate to collect what still belonged to me.

Verona House sat above the Hudson like a fortress dressed up as a mansion. Black gates, armed guards, marble steps, cameras hidden behind ivy. In my last life, I had mistaken all that steel and money for safety.

Now I knew better.

I stepped inside and found Lucien in the foyer with Isabella in his arms. She was tucked against his chest, one hand gripping his lapel, her voice soft and trembling.

"I ruined your signing, didn't I? Grace must hate me. I should leave. I don't want to cause trouble."

Lucien stroked her hair. "Stop that. You are not trouble. Your safety comes first. Grace will understand."

I cleared my throat.

Lucien released her a little too fast. Isabella lowered her eyes, but not before I saw the small, satisfied curve of her mouth.

"Grace," Lucien said. "I was just checking on her. She had a rough morning."

My gaze moved to Isabella's throat. The Moretti ruby rested there, dark red against her skin. It was the family necklace reserved for the bride, the one Lucien had once promised to fasten around my neck himself.

In my last life, I never wore it.

Isabella touched the ruby as if she had only just remembered it. "Oh, this. I thought it was beautiful and wanted to try it on. I'll take it off if you mind."

Her fingers moved slowly toward the clasp. Her eyes were on Lucien, not me.

"Grace," Lucien said, already tired of the conversation. "Don't make a scene over a necklace. Isabella likes pretty things."

"She should keep it," I said.

Both of them looked at me.

I smiled. "It suits her."

Isabella blinked. "You don't mind?"

"Why would I?"

Lucien's mouth tightened. He had expected tears, an argument, some proof that I still cared enough to fight. My calmness did not comfort him. It made him uneasy.

"Grace," he said quietly, "do not play games with me."

"I'm not."

He watched me for another second, then reached for a long white box on the hall table. "I had this brought in for you. The dress from Paris. The one you wanted."

The lid lifted to reveal ivory silk and antique lace. In my last life, I had cried when I saw it. I had thought it meant he had been listening.

This time, I only saw fabric.

"Let Isabella try it," I said. "We're close enough in size."

Lucien's expression hardened. "I ordered this for you."

"Then consider it a gift from me."

Isabella's eyes brightened before she remembered to look guilty. "Grace, I couldn't possibly. I mean... wouldn't I look like the bride?"

"Maybe you should," I said.

Silence fell hard.

Lucien let out a short laugh, the kind he used when he was angry but did not want to show it. "Fine. If this is the mood you're in, Isabella can have it."

"Thank you," I said, and walked past them.

I did not go upstairs to cry. I went to my room and locked the door. Then I opened my suitcase and began packing.