"He Chose Her... Then Came Back to Me"
"You don't get to hurt me and then make me responsible for how guilty you feel about it."
"Friends don't stand next to you, learn everything about you, and then use it to get close to the one person they know matters."
Aria thought she knew two things for certain: she was going to graduate with her best friend, Iris, by her side, and she was in love with her boyfriend, Liam.
One kiss changed everything. But as the secrets of their "before" come to light, Aria realizes the betrayal didn't start at a party or in a moment of weakness. It started weeks ago, in the conversations she wasn't part of and the moments she wasn't invited to.
Now, Aria has to decide if she can find herself again in the wreckage of the people she trusted most-or if some bridges are meant to be burned
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Chapter 5
Iris didn't go home after Aria walked away. She stayed, Long after the campus started to thin out. Long after the noise faded into something distant and unimportant. She sat on a bench near the back field, the kind of place people passed without noticing. It suited her Right now, she didn't want to be seen.
Her phone rested in her hand. The screen was still open, Aria's last message. Days old.
Casual. Ordinary. The kind of message you don't think twice about when you read it. The kind you assume there will always be another after.
Iris stared at it.
She didn't know what she was looking for anymore.
An answer, maybe.
Or something that would make what happened feel less final.
Her thumb hovered over the screen, then pressed the lock button.
It was easier that way.
"You look like you've been waiting for someone who isn't coming."
Iris didn't look up. She already knew.
Liam.
His voice carried something different now. Not the usual ease. Not the quiet confidence that used to make everything feel simple. There was something tight in it. Controlled.
"I wasn't waiting for you," she said.
It came out flat.
He stepped closer anyway. Close enough that she could feel his presence without turning. Then he sat beside her, leaving space between them. Not too much. Just enough to make it obvious.
"I know," he said.
The silence that followed wasn't familiar.
They had shared quiet before. Easy ones. Comfortable ones. This wasn't that.
This felt like something neither of them knew how to fill.
"How did it go?" he asked.
Iris let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Exactly how you think."
He nodded once, slow.
"That bad?"
She turned her head slightly, just enough to look at him. "Worse."
Something in his expression shifted. Subtle, but there. His jaw tightened before he looked away.
"She won't talk to me either," he said.
Iris almost smiled at that.
Not because it was funny.
Because it wasn't surprising.
"Why would she?" He didn't answer.
There was nothing to say to that. No version of the truth that made it sound better.
The quiet stretched again.Longer this time.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground like it might offer him something useful.
Iris watched him.
This-this was the part they hadn't thought about.
Not properly.
Not beyond the thrill of it. Not beyond the secrecy, the stolen moments, the feeling of getting away with something.
Reality didn't feel anything like that.
"She knows," Iris said.
Liam didn't look up. "Knows what?"
"It's been going on for weeks."
That got his attention. His head turned, his expression sharpening.
"You told her?"
Iris shook her head. "She figured it out."
"I just didn't lie about it."
He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. "Great."
Iris studied him. "You're not even surprised."
"I am," he said. "Just not about that."
She frowned slightly. "Then what?"
He hesitated. It wasn't long.
But it was enough.
Enough for something in her chest to tighten without permission.
"That it got this far," he said finally.
The words landed wrong.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just... wrong.
Iris held his gaze. "Meaning?"
He glanced at her, then away again.
"It wasn't supposed to turn into this."
Something cold settled under her skin.
"That's what you told Aria."
"It's the truth."
"Or it's just convenient."
His head turned back to her, sharper this time.
"That's not fair."
"No," Iris said quietly. "What's not fair is pretending this just happened."
He didn't interrupt her.
Didn't argue.
Because he couldn't.
"It didn't," she continued. "We both know it didn't."
The air between them felt heavier now.
Iris didn't look away.
"So say it," she said. "At least be honest about something." His brows pulled together. "Say what?" That you wanted this."
The words didn't shake.
That surprised her.
For a second, Liam just looked at her.
Then he looked away.
"I didn't plan it." That's not what I asked."
Another pause. Longer this time
Long enough to feel like an answer.
Iris nodded once, slow. "Right."
"That doesn't mean I didn't care about Aria," he added quickly.
There it was. Of course it was.
Iris looked away.
"Of course you did."
Something in her voice must have shifted, because he went still.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She shook her head. "Nothing."
"No," he said. "Say it."
Iris turned back to him.
"You still care about her." It wasn't sharp.
It wasn't accusing,
It didn't need to be, It was true.
And he didn't deny it.
That was the part that stayed with her The absence of denial.
Her chest tightened, but she didn't let it show.
"And me?" she asked.
Liam ran a hand through his hair again, the frustration clearer now.
"It's not that simple."
Iris let out a small laugh. There it is.
"What?"
"The part where you make it complicated so you don't have to answer." That's not what I'm doing."
"Then answer."
He didn't.
That was all the answer she needed.
Iris nodded slowly, like she was confirming something she had already suspected.
"Okay."
"Iris-"
"No," she cut in. "It's fine." I get it.
"Get what?" he asked, sharper now.
She looked at him. Really looked at him
And for the first time, she saw it clear
"I was the easier choice," she said.
"That's not true." Isn't it? His jaw tightened.
"You think I'd do all this for something easy?"
Iris held his gaze. "You didn't do this for me."
That made him stop.
Completely.
"You did it because you wanted something you weren't supposed to have."
The words didn't need force.
They landed anyway.
"And now that it's real," she continued, quieter now, "you don't know what to do with it."
Liam didn't respond.
Because there was nothing he could say that wouldn't prove her right.
Iris looked away.
The feeling she had been chasing for weeks whatever it was-it wasn't there
"This isn't what I thought it would feel like," she said. He didn't ask. He understood.
That made it worse.
Iris stood up. "I should go."
He looked up at her. "Iris-" She shook her head.
"Not today."
"I think we've done enough for one day."
She didn't wait for a response.
She turned and walked away.
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.
9.0
I crashed a wedding.
Got caught by the best man.
Now, I'm pregnant with his baby...
It's Katya's fault. (As per usual.)
My BFF despises her ex and wants to hate-watch him marry the woman he left her for.
Problem is, she didn't fill me in on that plan...
Until we arrive at the ceremony.
As soon as I find out, I run.
Hop on the elevator and smash the Doors Close button like the Energizer Bunny on a sugar rush.
But right before they shut...
A hand comes shooting through.
And attached to that hand, unfortunately for me, is the most stunning human specimen I've ever seen.
Tall.
Dark.
Handsome.
Dangerous.
Also... the best man.
He takes one look at me and knows I don't belong.
"Who let you in here, little bird?" he growls.
I gulp. Tremble.
Open my mouth to lie...
And then the elevator stops.
7.1
For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."
7.2
Elena stood flawless in her bridal gown. Five years of molding herself for Dante Moretti and a powerful mafia treaty culminated now. This dress was her only solace.
Then her phone buzzed. A text from Dante: "Wedding canceled." Two cold words, no explanation. Her world shattered, heart a sledgehammer blow.
Dante answered her call from a hospital, commanding her to leave, no apology. Her father and 500 mafia guests outside whispered of "humiliation." Marco then cleared Dante's things, revealing he was moving his long-comatose 'white swan,' Sofia, into their intended home. Her father's ultimatum: win Dante back in thirty days, or be married to a sadistic Russian boss.
Discarded, betrayed, and trapped, Elena felt absolute humiliation. She despised five years wasted, facing a fate worse than death. But as tears blurred her vision, a dangerous thought ignited: Dante wasn't the only Moretti. She wouldn't cry or beg. Instead, she'd choose the most terrifying Moretti of all, and make Dante pay for his arrogance.
8.7
My little brother's heart monitor was screaming its final warning. I called my husband, Dante Volkov, the ruthless underworld king whose life I'd saved years ago. He had promised to send his elite medical team.
"I'm handling an emergency," he snapped, then hung up. An hour later, my brother was dead.
I found out what Dante's "emergency" was from his mistress's social media. He had sent his team of world-class surgeons to deliver her cat's kittens. My brother died for a litter of cats.
When Dante finally called, he didn't even apologize. I could hear her voice in the background, asking him to come back to bed. He even forgot my brother was dead, offering to buy him a new toy to replace the one his mistress deliberately crushed.
This was the man who had promised to protect me, to make my high school tormentors pay. Now, he was holding that very tormentor, Seraphina, in his arms. Then came the final blow: a call from the clerk's office revealed our seven-year marriage was a sham. The certificate was a forgery.
I was never his wife. I was just a possession he was tired of. After he left me to die in a car crash for Seraphina, I made one call. I texted a rival mob heir I hadn't spoken to in years: "I need to disappear. I'm calling it in."
9.0
"You and your baby are mine whether you want it or not."
Renata Neroni's life was shattered the moment she discovered her boyfriend and stepsister's betrayal. In a rare lapse of judgment fueled by grief and alcohol, she spent a single, anonymous night with a stranger, unaware that she had just surrendered herself to Domenico Veronesi, the most formidable figure in the global underworld.
That night left Renata with more than just a memory; she was pregnant with the heir to a mafia empire.
As her father, desperate to free himself from the debts, prepares to marry her off to a man nearly his own age, Renata finds herself trapped. Her only escape arrives in the form of Domenico himself. Asserting his claim, he interrupts the arrangement and brings Renata to his secluded estate.
Within the fortified walls of the Veronesi estate, the man known for his cold, merciless exterior reveals a singular obsession: the protection of Renata and their unborn child.
However, Domenico's readiness to provide is met with a wall of ice.
Despite his efforts to provide for her, Renata's resentment initially hardens into a wall of silence.
To her, Domenico is simply another powerful man attempting to control her fate. However, as she is forced to navigate the inner workings of his life within the mafia world, she begins to see the man behind the fearsome reputation.
Renata discovers the deeper layers of Domenico, a loyalty and a hidden vulnerability regarding their child, and the fear that once defined her begins to dissolve.