The Second Choice Never Stayed

Luca Moretti was the heir to the Moretti family, and my childhood sweetheart, the boy I had loved for five years. He always said I would be his wife once he took over the family. Then one night, with his arms still around me, he asked for another woman’s number. “Bella, we’re going to get married sooner or later.” “But do you really expect me to spend the rest of my life with only one woman?” “I won’t let anyone touch the position of Mrs. Moretti. You’re smart enough not to make trouble over this.” That was when I finally understood. He wanted my loyalty, my patience, and my silence. But he had never planned to give me the same. The day I moved out of his house, Luca blocked the door. “We’re not over. I can have fun, and so can you. Why are you acting like this?” I picked up my suitcase. “No.” “I’m traditional.” Later, when he finally came back for me, his eyes bloodshot and his voice breaking as he begged me to give him one last chance, I looked at the ring on my finger and smiled. “Sorry.” “I don’t take back what someone else only remembers after letting go.” Chapter 1 Luca got Mira’s number. He was in a good mood when he reached for my waist, trying to pull me back into his arms, but I pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him away before getting out of bed to pick up my dress and coat. His words kept circling in my head. “Bella, we’re going to get married sooner or later. But do you really expect me to spend the rest of my life with only one woman?” “I won’t let any of them touch the position of Mrs. Moretti. You’ve always been smart, so don’t make a scene over this.” He wanted another woman’s number and still wanted me to believe that as long as I stood beside him in the end, everything I suffered along the way should not matter. My fingers trembled as I buttoned my dress. Luca watched me from the bed, the marks I had left on his shoulders still visible under the lamplight. Once, they would have made me happy; now they only hurt to look at. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I’m going home.” “It’s late. Don’t start.” “I have things to do tomorrow.” Luca clicked his tongue and caught my wrist as he sat up. “Be good. It’s not as if you’ve never stayed here before. I’ll have the driver take you back to the De Luca estate in the morning.” I pulled free and swept my phone, earrings, and documents into my bag. I had stayed in this South Dock safe house countless times, but I had no access code. Luca or one of his guards had to open the door every time. Tonight, that small fact finally felt clear: I was only allowed to stay. When I refused to soften, the last trace of amusement left Luca’s face. He leaned back against the headboard and lit a cigarette. “Suit yourself. But I’m not sending a car.” I stopped moving. His voice cooled. “You’re the one choosing to leave in the middle of the night. South Dock isn’t safe at this hour. If something happens, don’t blame me.” He used to send two cars after me if I went home late. At seventeen, when the De Luca convoy was followed, he gave me his armored car. Now he sat in bed with a cigarette in his hand and told me to bear the consequences of leaving. “Don’t worry. I don’t need you.” The guard at the end of the corridor froze when he saw me and glanced past me toward the room. Luca said nothing, so the guard lowered his eyes and pressed the elevator button. By the time I returned to the side wing of the De Luca estate, it was almost two in the morning. Laughter drifted from the guest room as I went upstairs. Mira sat on the sofa, typing on her phone. Her cheeks were flushed, and she kept trying to hide a smile that would not stay hidden, so I did not need to ask who she was texting. “Bella, you’re back?” She tucked the phone against her chest. “I thought you were staying with Luca tonight.” I set my bag down without answering. Mira was the new singer signed to one of De Luca’s clubs. My mother had put her in the side wing until the club apartment was ready. She looked at me with a careful smile. “Luca told me you were family. I thought you were his sister.” My hand paused on my coat. Brother. So that was how Luca had introduced me. The De Luca and Moretti families had done business together for three generations, and Luca and I had grown up beside each other. When I was sixteen, he told me that once he officially took over the Moretti family, he would let me stand beside him. We had been together in secret for five years. He refused to make it public, saying that family pressure would turn us into a marriage contract before we could breathe. I believed him. I had seen him flirt with other women before. I had cried, argued, and asked him what I was to him. Each time, he held me and said those women were just entertainment, that I was the one in his heart. I could not let go of five years, so I swallowed it again and again, until tonight, when he finally said the rule aloud. He could have others, and I was supposed to wait sensibly for him to come back. “Bella?” Mira tilted her head. “I’m fine. Just tired.” She accepted that quickly and held out her phone, unable to hide the brightness in her eyes. “Luca said he’ll take me to his private dock tomorrow. He said outsiders never get in there. Since you know him so well, you must know what kind of look he likes, right?” Luca had told me South Dock was not suitable for me. In five years, he had never taken me there. Now he was willing to bring Mira. The stone that had pressed against my chest for so long seemed to loosen. It still hurt, but I no longer wanted to fight for it. From the few dresses she had hung on the rack, I picked out a red silk one. “Wear this.” Mira took it. “Really?” I nodded. “He likes beautiful women who know how to make trouble.” Chapter 2 Luca’s private Instagram stayed active all night. He rarely posted there. The account was only open to people inside the family circle, but that night he uploaded three stories in a row. The first was South Dock at night. The second showed his black speedboat under the pier lights. In the third, Mira stood beside him in the red dress I had chosen for her. The sea wind had blown her hair loose, and Luca was tucking it behind her ear, his fingers lingering there as if they had known each other for years. I stared at the screen. Replies started coming in almost immediately. You really took her to South Dock? Bella has never even been there, has she? Who is she? A few minutes later, Luca replied. Bella is family. Don’t make it weird. Then he posted another photo, this time only Mira’s profile. The caption was short. Be nice to her. No explanation. No hesitation. He placed me inside the neat shell of family, then brought a woman who had only gotten his number the night before into a place I had never been allowed to enter. More comments followed. People praised Mira’s looks, said Luca was finally serious, and joked that the Moretti family might be preparing for an engagement soon. I watched for a while before replying. You look good together. Then I turned my phone face down on the table. I had already decided to draw the line, but my chest still ached, like an old wound pressed again. Mira came back very late. She carried a large bouquet of white roses. Her lips were darker than before, her coat hung loosely over her shoulders, and there was a red mark near her collar that she had not bothered to hide. The girls in the side wing gathered around her at once. “He really took you to South Dock?” “That’s Moretti’s private dock. Outsiders never get in.” “Luca has never shown anyone off like this.” Mira held the flowers, blushing just enough. “He said I’m the first girl he has ever officially brought there.” When she said it, her gaze passed over me lightly. I sat by the window and said nothing. Soon she came over, her voice careful while satisfaction hid in her eyes. “Bella, I only just found out you’re not really Luca’s sister.” “They said you’ve liked him for years.” “If this bothers you, I can apologize.” “No need.” I cut her off. “They were talking nonsense.” She clearly did not believe me. The other girls went quiet too, their eyes moving between us. Someone asked, “Then do you like anyone?” I had not planned to answer. At that moment, my phone lit up. A news alert appeared on the screen. Julian Romano returns to New York for tomorrow night’s charity auction. In the photo, Julian stood on the second floor of an auction hall in a black suit, his expression cold. Two guards stood behind him. The Romano family and the Moretti family had been circling each other for years, and Julian and I had disliked each other since childhood. We fought over the first dance at family parties, then over riding, shooting lessons, and business courses. For more than a decade, we could not meet without arguing. In the past two years, I had been too busy with Luca to deal with him. Looking at that photo, I thought his name was perfect. Distant enough. Sharp enough to hurt Luca. “Yes,” I said. The girls immediately asked, “Who?” I picked up my phone and pointed at the screen. “Julian Romano.” The room went quiet. Someone drew in a breath. “Bella, are you serious?” “That’s Julian.” “He isn’t like Luca. He doesn’t play games with women.” I smiled and gave no explanation. For a second, Mira’s expression stiffened. She probably had not expected me to name someone like him after listening to her talk about Luca. Neither had I. But the moment I said it, something inside me felt lighter. For five years, I had always feared Luca would misunderstand, get angry, or think I was not sensible enough. Now I suddenly did not want to be afraid anymore. I put my phone away and returned to my room. Behind me, people were still whispering about Julian and praising Mira and Luca. Once the door closed, their voices blurred. Luca had called me family. Then I would be family. Chapter 3 The next afternoon, I went to the South Dock safe house. Luca was in a port meeting and would not be back for a while, so I brought only one De Luca driver and asked him to wait downstairs. I went up alone. My clothes still took up half the closet. My perfume was in the bathroom, my spare medicine was in the drawer, and several books I had never finished were still stacked beside the bed. In the study, I found the guest lists and business notes I had once organized for Luca, all filed neatly under his name. I packed everything that belonged to me. Two hours later, the room no longer looked as if I had ever lived there. I was dragging my suitcase toward the door when the elevator opened. Luca had come back. His eyes fell on the suitcase behind me, and his face darkened. “Bella, what are you doing?” “Moving out.” “Moving where?” “Back to the De Luca estate.” He came over and pressed one hand on the handle of my suitcase. “This room has always been kept for you.” I looked at his hand. “Kept for me, but without my own access?” Luca frowned. “You know what South Dock is. Access isn’t given out casually.” “But Mira can go to your private dock.” The air went quiet. Impatience finally appeared in his eyes. “Are you really going to keep dragging her into this?” “I’m only asking.” “She’s new.” His voice lowered. “You’re different from her. Bella, we’re not over. We’re just giving each other space.” “So you can try other people, and I can too?” “If that’s what you want.” He said it easily, as if granting me something generous. I almost laughed. “No.” “I’m traditional. I can’t accept that kind of relationship.” He stared at me as if he had never heard me speak like this. “So you’re leaving over this?” “Not over this.” I calmly removed his hand from my suitcase. “I’m leaving because I’ve spent five years waiting for a place I had to fight for again and again.” “And now I don’t want it anymore.” Luca’s expression changed. “What about Julian?” My fingers paused. He gave a cold laugh. “Everyone heard what you said last night. You like Julian Romano now?” “Bella, if you wanted to make me angry, you should have chosen a better lie.” I met his eyes. “And if it isn’t a lie?” “You really think Julian would want you?” Luca stepped closer, his voice dropping. “He has looked down on you since we were children. Did you forget the birthday gift you gave him? He threw it away without even opening it.” Of course I remembered. That year, I made Julian a pair of silver cuff links, hoping we could stop fighting for once. Later, Luca told me Julian had thrown them into the trash without a glance. After that, Julian and I never spoke without cutting each other open. “My business has nothing to do with you.” I pulled the suitcase toward the door. This time, Luca did not stop me. His voice followed from behind. “Isabella, do you think Julian will catch you once you leave Moretti protection?” “Other people may not know, but he knows you’ve been with me for five years.” I stopped. The room seemed to freeze. Luca continued, with cruel certainty in every word. “If you go to him, he’ll only laugh at you.” “And when you get hurt, you’ll still come back to me.” I turned around. He stood there with no regret on his face, only the cold anger of a man who believed he had been challenged. The person who knew where I hurt always knew exactly where to cut. I walked back and raised my hand. The slap landed hard across his face. Luca’s head turned to the side. A red mark rose quickly on his pale skin. A few seconds later, he turned back, his eyes dark. “Fine.” He looked at me. “You have nerve.” I did not answer. Outside, the guard lowered his head and said nothing. I dragged my suitcase into the elevator. Before the doors closed, Luca spoke again. “Bella, remember this.” “Once you leave me, not every road will lead back.” I pressed the button for the ground floor. “Good.” “I’m not planning to come back.” Chapter 4 I deleted everything connected to Luca from my phone. Photos, messages, old voice notes, and the schedules I had saved for him over the years. The gifts he had given me went into two boxes, which a driver sent back to the Moretti estate. From then on, I stopped opening his Instagram and stopped asking where he went. I thought that would be enough. But Mira still lived in the side wing of the De Luca estate, and she always found ways to mention him. He had sent flowers, arranged a car to take her to the club, and remembered that she disliked bitter coffee. Luca knew how to be kind when he wanted to be. He could make any woman feel chosen. That tenderness had simply expired for me. On Friday night, Mira said she wanted to take everyone to dinner. After Luca brought her to South Dock, the girls in our circle had teased her about owing them a proper celebration. I did not want to go, but my mother sent a black dress to my room. “Bella, don’t let people think the De Luca family can’t afford to lose.” “You and Luca grew up together. That means you should know how to keep things graceful.” Even my heartbreak had to serve the family’s reputation. Dinner was at one of Moretti’s private restaurants. The top-floor room overlooked the harbor, and everyone at the table belonged to the same narrow circle. Luca did not look at me once. He pulled out Mira’s chair, blocked drinks for her, remembered she did not eat oysters, and picked the bitter almonds out of her dessert. When people teased them, he did not deny anything. Mira leaned toward him with flushed cheeks and asked if she could taste his wine. Luca lowered the glass to her lips with a gentleness I knew too well. I looked down and cut the steak on my plate, one slow line after another. From the corner of my eye, I saw Luca’s jaw tighten. Maybe my calmness bored him. Maybe he had expected tears or another scene he could dismiss. After dinner, the others left one by one. Outside the restaurant, I was the only one still waiting. The wind came from the harbor. I had just taken out my phone to call the driver when Luca walked over. His tone was stiff. “Do you want me to take you home?” He probably still thought I would follow him if he offered the smallest way back. Before I could answer, Mira came up behind him and slipped her arms around his. “Luca, I think I drank too much,” she said softly. “Can you stay with me for a while?” Luca did not answer immediately. I smiled. “No need. Someone is coming for me.” His face went cold. “Suit yourself.” He put an arm around Mira and led her to the black sports car waiting by the curb. The headlights came on, and the car disappeared down the harbor road. The driver was still more than ten minutes away. I did not want to keep standing outside a Moretti restaurant, so I started walking along the street. As I turned into a back lane, a motorcycle burst out of the shadows. I had no time to move. It slammed into me and threw me onto the ground. The rider cursed once, then the engine roared away. Pain spread from my wrist to my knee. Lying on the cold pavement, I reached for my phone before I could think and pressed the emergency contact. The call rang four times. On the fifth, it was cut off. The dead tone pulsed against my ear. I stared at the empty lane for a long moment before I understood. The number was Luca’s. The man who had once set himself as my emergency contact, who had promised to come whenever I pressed that button, was no longer coming. I did not cry, and I did not call again. Bracing myself against the wall, I sat up and called emergency services. After giving them the address, I opened my emergency contacts. Luca Moretti’s name was still at the top. Five years ago, he had put it there himself. “Bella, if you press this, I’ll come. Always.” Now he had ended my last call for help. I deleted his name and blocked every way he had left to reach me. By the time the ambulance arrived, I had already stopped looking down the road for him. The paramedic helped me into the back, the doors closed, and the Moretti restaurant disappeared behind the glass as the vehicle pulled away from the curb. From that moment on, I would never need him again.