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Cast Back into the Crowd Novel Cover

Cast Back into the Crowd

While shopping for the holidays, a sudden notification disrupts the protagonist's routine. Marcello Golden, a man from her past, sends a friend request using an old photo she once took. Despite five years of absolute silence, he claims to have vital information that must be shared in person. Finding his sudden return both ridiculous and strange, she questions his motives. Rather than entertaining his request, she finishes her purchase and permanently blocks him.
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Chapter 2

Although the chapel offered parking closer to the top, I always chose to leave my car at the bottom so I could descend the path step by step.

The route consisted of a challenging 8,000 stone steps, and by the time I reached the end, my tears had typically dried.

As I approached my car, however, my phone rang once more. It was an unfamiliar number, but the voice coming through was unmistakable. "Even if you refuse to see me, you must at least allow me to see my son."

I ended the call right away and blocked that number, too. For a full five years, my life had been entirely free of Marcello, and I was thriving in that absence.

I drove back to the office, and as soon as I stepped in, my assistant wore a troubled expression. "Ma'am, that partner we've been negotiating with for months just pulled out."

I looked up, asking, "What was their reason? Our product quality and pricing are both competitive."

She appeared equally baffled. "I pressed for details, and they implied that we might have offended the owner of the Golden Group."

Even after all these years, Marcello's methods of pressuring others remained unchanged.

With a furrowed brow, she continued, "But our businesses don't even compete directly. Why would he target us?"

I set down my pen and said calmly, "Because he is my ex-husband."

Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth agape. "He's the one from those rumors—the man who cheated with the sales associate?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth, looking regretful. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

I waved it off, keeping my tone even. "It's ancient history. No harm in talking about it."

Still appearing remorseful, she lowered her head. "I always assumed those stories were fabricated. You're so accomplished. How could he possibly betray you?"

Back then, nearly everyone shared that sentiment, myself included. Yet reality demonstrated that no vows were truly eternal.

I returned Adele's call, considering that after my upcoming departure, opportunities to see them might become rare. Therefore, I wanted to arrange one final gathering with the girls from our dorm.

That evening, all six of us reunited, stocking up on a case of beer and declaring that no one would leave until we were thoroughly inebriated.

After several rounds, conversations grew more open and animated. Adele held her glass, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Morgan, there's something I've never mentioned to you before. When Marcello couldn't locate you, he contacted me multiple times, requesting that I arrange a meeting. He claimed..."

Before she could finish, Dorothy Hubbard slammed her glass down and launched into a tirade. "Meet that ungrateful bastard? He can forget it! If not for your family raising him, he would be nothing more than an abandoned orphan today!"

Adele signaled for her to quiet down, concerned that it might upset me, but Dorothy pressed on with increasing fervor. "I have to say it! Without your parents exonerating his family, he would have nothing to his name. And how did he repay that? By betraying you—he doesn't deserve to breathe!"

She looked at me, the rims of her eyes reddening. "Morgan, you're just too kind. After everything he put you through, how can you remain so composed?"

I shrugged. "It's not about kindness. I've simply moved on."

Marcello was undeniably a scoundrel, but I had to admit his exceptional talent for business. When my parents finally cleared the Golden family's name, he was already 25, and their once-prosperous empire had collapsed entirely.

Nevertheless, he rebuilt it from scratch, turning it into a thriving enterprise. During those initial entrepreneurial days, I served as his most dependable ally.

Reflecting on those early struggles still stirred a sense of excitement within me; we had invested everything we had. To secure a major contract he coveted, I entertained a group of seasoned executives over drinks until I landed in the emergency room with a bleeding ulcer.

For a crucial project he prioritized, I endured four consecutive all-nighters to perfect the proposal. I practically resided in the office to realize his ambitions, so immersed that I failed to notice when he began his affair with that woman.

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