TERESA’S P.O.V.
I ran out of Lucian’s room, barely seeing through the tears streaming down my face. Each step felt like I was running against a wall, the pain in my chest tightening with each passing second. I could still feel his words echoing, his voice cold and distant like I was nothing. I’d been hurt before, but this... this was so much worse. The kind of hurt that roots itself inside you and won’t let go.
The stairs blurred beneath , and suddenly, I collided with soone. Alex. I stumbled back, landing on the cold marble floor, and for a mont, we both just stared. I thought I caught his nose twitching slightly, like he could sohow sll what had happened, and his eyes widened, filling with a strange mixture of shock and confusion. My heart twisted tighter, the humiliation adding to my ache.
"S-sorry," I muttered, scrambling to my feet, desperate to escape before my sobs turned into an outright breakdown. Alex’s voice followed , concerned but cautious.
"Teresa, wait... Are you alright? What happened?"
But I couldn’t bear to answer, couldn’t bear to show how much this had torn apart. I mumbled a thank you and bolted, rushing toward the other wing of the house, hoping that no one else would see . This wasn’t ; I wasn’t the girl who got tangled up in n like Lucian. Lucian, with his perfect smile, his smirking, sarcastic charm, his intense gaze that seed to pull every thought out of my head. I thought I had gotten to him. I thought he’d seen sothing in . But now... now, I just felt foolish.
When I stumbled into my room, my whole body felt like it was vibrating, each breath ragged as if I’d run a mile just to get away. I grabbed my bag, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling, making it almost impossible to unzip the damn thing. The more I tried to steady them, the shakier they beca, as if my body itself was protesting, clinging to the fragnts of my shattered heart.
I started throwing things into the bag without thought, just the essentials, only the pieces of myself I’d brought here before everything went wrong. All the beautiful things he’d given —the delicate jewelry, the dresses, the notes with his words that once made feel wanted, special, like I was finally worth sothing—all of it lay strewn around the room, as discarded as I now felt. Leaving it all behind felt like a silent scream as if I was finally breaking free of the illusion he’d spun around . But it hurt, god, it hurt.
I took a long, painful look around the room, and mories flooded . I rembered the first day here, that sense of excitent, the warmth that had filled when he’d first reached for my hand. It had felt magical like I’d stumbled into so fairy tale, a place where I could be the princess in his kingdom. I had felt so certain, so safe. But now... now I was nothing. Less than nothing. I felt used, hollowed out, tossed aside like yesterday’s trash. The room that had once felt like a palace now felt like a prison I was finally breaking free of, but at a cost, I hadn’t been ready to pay.
With my small, ager bag clutched to my chest, I took a deep, shaky breath. Each step down the hall felt heavier than the last, but I forced myself forward. When I reached the front doors, my heart almost stopped. There they were, my two assigned bodyguards, their eyes narrowing the mont they saw . Confusion flickered across their faces, but it was their noses that caught my attention. Just like Alex’s, they flared slightly, taking in so scent I didn’t even know I was carrying.
I froze, feeling the blood drain from my face. What were they slling? Did they know? Could they sll the remnants of my broken heart? Did they know that last night, I had given him everything, my trust, my vulnerability, my love—and he had shattered it, tossed it aside without care? My stomach churned, and I could barely swallow the bitterness rising in my throat.
They exchanged a look that made feel naked, and exposed. My cheeks burned, my head spun, and all I wanted was to escape, to vanish into thin air and leave this humiliation behind. But there was nowhere to go, no place that could erase the mark he’d left on , the pain I now carried.
"Lucian asked to leave," I managed to say, barely keeping the tremor from my voice. "You’re... you’re free from your duties."
Andy, one of the guards, exchanged a look with his partner, his brow furrowing as if he couldn’t believe Lucian would just send away like this. Then the other guard mumbled sothing to him, and they both stepped aside, no questions, just a faint, sympathetic nod. They almost seed... pained, as if this wasn’t the Lucian they knew either. But none of it mattered. All I knew was that Lucian was done with .
The walk to the gates felt like it stretched on forever, each step an agonizing eternity. It was as if the world had slowed, making sure I felt every second of my sha. Every gardener, every housekeeper I passed, every single person along the way stopped what they were doing, their gazes snapping at . They all wore that sa strange expression—like Alex’s, like the bodyguards’—a combination of curiosity and sothing that twisted my stomach in knots. It was as if they all knew as if they could see right through , down to the heartbreak that clung to like a scarlet letter.
My cheeks burned, the heat of humiliation spreading up my neck until I thought my face would catch on fire. I wanted to vanish, to lt into the walls and disappear. I clutched my bag tighter, my fingers digging into the fabric, grounding myself against the flood of emotions that threatened to drown . Was this his doing? Had Lucian told everyone, spinning so twisted version of our story so they’d know how foolishly I’d fallen into his arms, only to be discarded like I was a used tampon? The thought made my stomach churn.
Each look felt like a slap, each whispered word like a dagger, carving deeper into the wounds he’d left on my heart. I could feel their eyes crawling over , judging, pitying, like they knew every little detail of my foolishness, my vulnerability. The weight of their silent stares pressed down on , tightening around like a vice, suffocating any last shred of dignity I had left. I forced myself forward, swallowing back the tears that prickled in my eyes, refusing to let them see just how broken I was. But inside, I was crumbling, one step at a ti, leaving pieces of myself scattered along that endless path.
Just when I thought I couldn’t bear another step, a golf cart pulled up beside . A young guy I hadn’t seen before leaned over, his face soft with concern. "Need a lift to the gate?" he asked gently.
For a second, I hesitated. Should I trust him? Did I trust anyone anymore? But I couldn’t stand being out here in the open, feeling every eye on . Nodding, I climbed in, grateful for the reprieve.
As we reached the gate, the driver—Adam, he’d introduced himself—helped hail a cab. He even waited with , as if he understood that I needed soone, anyone, to show a sliver of kindness. When the cab finally pulled up, Adam gave a gentle smile.
"I hope... I hope you’ll be alright," he said, his voice almost breaking. "You deserve a better treatnt than this."
I thanked him, my voice barely a whisper as I forced a weak, hollow smile. Climbing into the cab felt like the final step in a long, painful goodbye. I mumbled my address to the driver, and as the car pulled away, leaving that place and all its mories behind, I felt the fragile walls I’d been holding up start to crack. Then, in the quiet, they shattered.
The tears I’d been holding back, every ounce of pain I’d forced down, ca rushing out all at once, a flood I couldn’t control. I broke down, letting go of the facade I’d kept up, the hope I’d foolishly clung to. I had been naive, yes—I knew that now, painfully, deeply. I’d been foolish to believe, even for a mont, that soone like Lucian, with his effortless charm, his intoxicating mystery, and his wealth, could ever fall for soone like . But I had wanted to believe it so badly. I had wanted him to be different.
I clutched my bag to my chest, my only anchor in that mont, sothing to hold onto as I unraveled. Each sob felt like a piece of slipping away, a reminder of how much I’d given, how much of myself I’d let him take. Quietly, desperately, I whispered to myself that it was better this way, that I could rebuild, pick up the fragnts he’d left behind. But the words felt hollow, empty.
With each mile the cab put between us, I tried to gather the pieces of myself that lay scattered, remnants of the trust, the hope, the love I’d poured into him. I knew I’d survive this, sohow. But in that mont, every breath, every heartbeat was filled with the ache of what I’d lost.
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