His answer came without hesitation.
“Because I want him to fall too.”
For a long time, I just looked at him.
A stranger who pulled me out of ruin.
A man offering revenge instead of comfort.
Something inside me shifted—quietly, dangerously.
So when he finally said, “Marry me, Aria,” I didn’t think twice.
Because if I was already in hell,
I’d rather walk through it burning beside him—
than ever forgive Matteo Grant.
I stayed in the hospital for another day after that. My body was still drained, every movement feeling heavier than it should’ve been, but it wasn’t the physical pain that bothered me most—it was the quiet. The kind that makes you think too much.
I kept telling myself Matteo would come. Maybe not to apologize, but at least to check if I was still breathing properly after everything.
But when the door finally opened, hope died immediately.
The first words out of his mouth were sharp and careless.
“So you really bailed on the client?” he said, like he was annoyed about a missed appointment. “Seriously, Aria? I sold you for that deal. All you had to do was play along so I could close it.”
I went still.