When I Stopped Being His Second Choice

The day before Valentine's Day, I handed my leave request to my fiancé and boss, Daniel Harrison. We were supposed to get married at City Hall on Valentine's Day. He glanced at it, set it down on his desk, and did not sign. "Megan already booked her flight to Miami, and the hotel is non-refundable. I need you to cover for her for a few days. I am going to Miami to meet some clients anyway, so I will keep an eye on her while I am there." He looked up at me and softened his tone slightly, like he was trying to soothe me. "Getting married can wait until I get back. A few more days will not make a difference." His voice was casual, as if he were arranging something he already knew I would accept. Megan stood beside him and lowered her head. "I am so sorry, Alessandra. I did not realize your plans were that important." Then she added, "Daniel said you would understand. You always put the company first." She leaned slightly toward Daniel. The colleagues at their desks looked down at their screens. No one said a word. I watched Daniel. He was already scrolling through his phone, checking flight details. He did not look at me again. He did not know that the Valentine's Day we had agreed on was the deadline set by the De Luca family. If I was not married by the end of February, I would have to go back and accept the marriage they had arranged for me. I did not argue. I took off my badge and signed the resignation letter. Then I picked up my phone and called my grandfather, Enzo De Luca. "Grandfather, I give up. I will accept the marriage." Chapter 1 "Fine. I am not taking leave. I quit." The room went so quiet you could hear the air move. Daniel looked up, his pen pausing mid-stroke. He set it down and leaned back in his chair, studying me like he was finally confirming something he had suspected. "Are you serious?" He stood up and came around the desk, his voice low, carrying that tired patience that felt more condescending than kind. "Alessandra, can you tell me what I actually did wrong?" "Megan's ticket was booked weeks ago. It is non-refundable. I happen to be going to Miami for client meetings anyway. I am taking her along. It is a few days. Why do you see this as me choosing her over you?" He was not angry. He was not even raising his voice. He was stating what he saw as a simple fact, and his tone carried genuine confusion. "You were not like this before. You used to say, 'Go ahead, I have things covered here.' Why can you not understand me now?" I said nothing. He stepped closer, his voice dropping further. "I have told you many times that you matter to me. You were there from the beginning. You helped me build this company from nothing." He paused, waiting for me to nod, to agree, to be the person I had always been. "Can you trust me one more time?" I stood there and looked at him. Something inside me went very still. I was born into the De Luca family. Every relationship I had ever known came with exchange and calculation built into it. I had spent my whole life trying to leave that world behind. I wanted to prove that I could live without an arranged marriage, without my family's name carrying me. When I met him, he knew nothing about who I was. He did not know the weight of my surname. He brought me coffee at midnight when I was still working. He stayed by my bed when I was sick. He told me once, near dawn, "I do not care where you came from. We will build something of our own." I held onto those words for eight years. I believed him. I believed he loved me for who I was, not for the name I carried. I nodded and placed my signed resignation letter on his desk, sliding it toward him. "This is not a threat. I am really done." He was quiet for two seconds. Then he picked up the project proposal I had spent three nights finishing and handed it to Megan. "Then Megan should take over this project." Megan looked at him, then at me, her voice small. "Daniel, I do not think that is right. Alessandra worked so hard on this—" "Take it," he said. "You have learned how this industry works. I trust you." He looked at me after he said it, calm, waiting to see how I would react. I did not ask him the questions I used to ask. I just walked back to my desk and started packing my things. Megan stood behind me, hesitating. "Alessandra, I can help you—" "No need," I said, without looking up. Linda came over from her desk and stood beside me. "This is not fair. He cannot do this to you." I gave a small smile. "It is not about fairness. I just do not want to stay anymore." I sealed the box and walked toward the door. Daniel's voice came from behind me. "Alessandra." He said, "I know you are upset right now. Take a week. Cool down. Your position will still be here when you come back. The project will go back to you. And when you are ready, we can go get married." I stood there, looking at the window at the end of the hallway, and waited a few seconds before I answered. "Daniel. You do not have the right to offer me that anymore." Eight years. I had believed him for eight years. I spent eight years trying to prove that I could live like an ordinary person, that I could exist without my family's name defining me. I thought he was my way out of that world, but I had only found another dead end. That was fine. I had taken the wrong path, but I had found my way back. This time, I would walk alone. Chapter 2 I turned to leave, but Linda grabbed my arm, her eyes red. "You are really just walking away? After everything you put into this company—" Before I could answer, a soft voice came from behind me, hesitant and gentle. "Linda, please do not say that. Alessandra will feel worse." I turned around. Megan walked toward us in her heels, still holding the proposal I had written. Her expression was warm, like she was trying to protect me from something. "Alessandra made her own choice. We should respect that. She has been exhausted lately. Daniel was worried about her, which is why he told her to rest." She lowered her head slightly, her voice softening. "Honestly, I have always admired how much Alessandra gave to this company. But I never wanted her to think I was taking her place. If she wants the project back, I can return it." She lifted her head and looked at me with an expression so open it could have been sincerity. "Alessandra, you know I never wanted to replace you." Linda did not say anything. She just looked at Megan, then at me, and stepped back to her desk without another word. The elevator doors opened. Daniel walked out, keys in hand. His gaze passed over me like I was a piece of furniture. "Megan, let us go. The car is waiting." He reached the door, where the rain had already started. A security guard ran over with an umbrella. Daniel took it and tilted it toward Megan. "Come on. Do not get wet." Megan followed in her heels, and the guard opened the passenger door. She did not hesitate. She got into the front seat like it had always been hers. Before the door closed, she leaned out slightly and smiled at me, her voice carrying just enough to cut through the rain. "Alessandra, thank you for everything you built here." "Daniel said it is mine to take care of now." She tilted her head, as if remembering something. "Oh, and I took the peace lily. Daniel said it would look better in my office anyway, since you are leaving." Daniel settled into the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel. He glanced at me once. "You should go inside. The rain is getting worse." The window rolled up. Rain streaked down the glass, blurring their faces into indistinct shapes. The car drove off through the puddles, and the taillights disappeared into the downpour. I stood at the door, rain splashing onto the steps, wetting the toes of my shoes. That peace lily was mine. I had raised it for six years, from a tiny sprout with three leaves into a full flowering plant. He used to say that having it made the office feel like a home. Now he had given it to her. Linda came up behind me. She stood beside me, watching the empty street where the car had vanished, and said quietly, "Are you really leaving?" "Yes." I stood at the entrance and watched the rain swallow everything. He had forgotten. He forgot that I had seen that project through from the beginning. He forgot that I went three months without pay when the company was struggling. He forgot that I answered every time he called me late at night, unable to sleep. He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He thought I would wait for his call like I always had. He did not know that I had not stayed for him. I had stayed to prove that I could. That I could survive without the De Luca name. That the words "I do not care where you came from" had once been true, even if the man who said them had already forgotten. Chapter 3 I got into a taxi and gave the address where I had lived for five years. When I opened the door, I saw Daniel's coat on the rack. Next to it hung a woman's jacket, light-colored, made of thin fabric. It looked like it had been there for a while, draped over the hook like it belonged. I looked at it for two seconds, then did not touch it. I did not have much to pack. Over the past five years, I had put most of my money into his company. When I opened the drawer to get my passport, my fingers brushed against a small box that had gathered dust. I opened it. Inside was a silver bracelet, thin and delicate, with a small stone that was not worth much. He had bought it at a vintage shop eight years ago. He put it on my wrist that night and said, "Alessandra, I have nothing right now. I know this is not much. But I promise you, one day I will buy you something better." I thought that night was the best night of my life. That bracelet was proof that I had chosen something for myself. Not an arrangement. Not a transaction. My choice. I believed him. I believed him so much that I went to my grandfather and told him I would marry no one else. He was quiet for a long time, then said, "Eight years. If he has not married you by then, you come back." I thought I would not lose. Now I knew that the one who had been wrong all along was me. I was about to close the box when I heard the lock turn. Daniel came in, shaking rain from his umbrella. When he saw the open suitcase in the bedroom, his brow furrowed. He walked over and put his hand on my suitcase. "You are really leaving? Over this?" I moved his hand away. "It is not about this." "Then what is it?" He stood there, looking at me. "I have traveled for work before. You never acted like this. Megan is new. I am just looking out for her. You used to understand. When we were starting out, we worked around the clock, and you never complained." He let out a breath, his voice softening. "I do not know when you became this sensitive. You used to say 'Go, I have it covered.' Now I mention a non-refundable ticket and you are packing your bags. Everything I do is for us. The bigger the company gets, the better our life will be." "Megan is young. She does not know how things work yet. I do not want her to struggle alone. You always told me to be more considerate. Now that I am, you are upset." He looked at me with a tired confusion, like he genuinely could not understand why I was making such a scene. I looked back at him, and I felt the last bit of warmth in my chest cooling, piece by piece. In his mind, my patience and my sacrifice had become reasons I was not allowed to be unhappy now. "Daniel." I said his name quietly. "Are you really not seeing it, or are you choosing not to?" He paused, like the question caught him off guard. Then his phone lit up. He glanced at it, and I saw his eyebrows lift slightly. He typed one word and turned the phone face down. "Work," he said. I did not press. He continued, "I will be in Miami for a few days. Do not leave before I get back. When I return, we will get married. I mean it. Whatever you want, I will give it to you. Will that make this right?" I looked at him and smiled. "Daniel, we are not getting married anymore." He stood there, like the words had not fully reached him. My phone lit up too. Chapter 4 A message appeared on my screen. "Miss Alessandra, Don has sent me to bring you back to the estate. I will be there in an hour." The sender was listed simply as Moretti, my grandfather's longtime estate manager. Daniel caught a glimpse of the message, and his brow creased almost imperceptibly. "The estate? What estate?" "Nothing," I said. "Someone has finally come to take me back where I belong." Right after I said that, his phone buzzed again. Megan had sent a voice message. He did not hesitate to play it out loud. "Daniel, I am already at the airport. Let me know when you are on your way. I will get you a coffee." Her tone was casual, not obviously flirtatious. But it carried the kind of familiarity that said, "I am here, waiting for you." He looked at me after it finished, as if the message itself proved his point. "You see, that is just normal work communication. She is young and alone. It is not wrong for me to look after her. You are reading too much into everything." I did not say anything. I picked up the silver bracelet from the table and walked to the fireplace. His eyes followed me. "What are you doing?" I looked down at the bracelet in my hand, the thin silver chain catching a sliver of light. I did not hesitate. I dropped it into the fire. The metal made a soft sound as the flames reached it, like something closing shut. Then it stopped glowing and blended into the ash. I turned back to him and said, slowly and clearly, "Daniel. We are done." For a second, he looked stunned. But the shock faded quickly, replaced by the familiar steadiness he always wore. He looked at me with a tiredness that felt almost like pity. "Is this really necessary?" "Same routine again. You throw something away, and then what? You wait for me to come after you? You always do this, and you always come back. Are you not exhausted?" He thought it was just another test. In his eyes, throwing away the bracelet was just another way to push him into a response. He was certain I would not really leave. I did not bother explaining. I closed my suitcase and walked past him without looking back. The fire kept burning. The bracelet was probably already melted into a small shapeless lump, mixed in with the rest of the ash. Soon it would be impossible to tell which piece had been mine. Like the past eight years. An hour later, I stood at the window of the hotel room. The doorbell rang. When I opened the door, two rows of men in black suits stood with their heads bowed. At the front was Moretti. "Miss Alessandra, your plane is ready. You may leave whenever you are ready." I nodded, picked up my bag, and got into the car. The convoy moved toward the airport. As we approached the private terminal, I could see that the main terminal was more crowded than usual. Extra security checkpoints had been set up at the entrances, and men in dark uniforms were checking documents one by one. Moretti glanced back at me from the front seat. "Don ordered tighter access control today. He wants to make sure nothing interferes with your departure." I said nothing and looked out the window. The convoy slowed as it passed the main terminal entrance. Some passengers grew restless at the sudden restrictions, and a few tried to ask questions. They were turned away politely but firmly. Through the glass wall, I saw a familiar figure standing on tiptoes, peering in our direction with undisguised curiosity. Daniel followed her gaze and looked up. Our eyes met.