Twelve Years Later, His Canary Flew Away

He started doing more and more business with Monica.

He even introduced her to his inner circle.

By the time I realized what was happening, my own allies were singing her praises.

Soren was exceptionally attentive to Monica.

Once, we had a massive fight over her family's business, which led to three months of cold silence.

I had told him, "If you want Monica, I'll walk away."

But Soren had held me and cried. He said, "You're the only one I care about."

"Monica's family is powerful. They have channels, resources. I'm just using her to make connections. We're just business partners."

"Don't overthink it, baby."

I believed him.

Looking back now, I hadn't thought about it enough.

Soren had treated me like a complete idiot.

Their "partnership" grew closer and closer, the word a convenient cover for whatever was happening between them.

And now, he had betrayed our vows for her.

I was the real fool in their perfect, golden fairy tale.

I snapped back to reality. Night had fallen, and Soren's mother, Lucia, had arrived.

Because I'd changed the codes, she was stuck outside the gate, her shrill voice cutting through the air.

"Fighting with Soren again? And you blocked his calls?"

"Don't think your little tricks can control Soren. He's a capo now, not the same street punk you could wrap around your finger."

"Are you listening to me? If you have any sense, you'll unblock his number and fix the gate right now!"

I turned off the security monitor and slipped out the back door.

If she wasn't leaving, then I would.

I needed to confirm the flight plan for my private jet.

For dinner, I went to a restaurant I used to frequent.

As if on cue, just as I pulled up, I saw a familiar black sedan.

I paused for a moment, then decided to go in anyway.

Monica was sitting in my usual spot, pressed tightly against Soren.

Her hand was on his arm as she laughed and talked with the bosses of other families.

And Soren, my fiancé, let it happen without a hint of protest.

He even poured her a glass of wine.

He saw me, but his gaze only flickered toward me before he looked away.

He was waiting for me to back down.

This time, he was wrong.

I walked past their table and headed straight for the other end of the room.

I stopped beside Darrel, the heir to another major family.

"Abby," he murmured, his voice soft, just as it had been when we first met ten years ago.

I'd been trapped in a warehouse during an attack by a rival family, certain I was going to die. It was Darrel who had charged through a storm of gunfire to carry me out on his back.

Afterward, looking at the gunshot wounds that riddled his body, I knew I owed him a debt I could never repay.

"Then don't repay it," he'd replied with an easy smile. "Just keep it. You can pay me back, little by little, down the line."

Later, in the hospital, we saw each other through the worst of the recovery.

And Soren, busy retaliating against the Moretti family, had barely found the time to visit.

Ever since, even though we rarely spoke, there was a special kind of understanding between us.

Just like now. Darrel watched me with a playful glint in his eye as he pulled out my chair.

The moment I sat down, the entire restaurant fell silent for a few seconds.

All eyes turned to us, including Soren's.

He shot to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

He strode over, grabbed my arm, and dragged me into an empty private room.

"Abby, when are you going to drop this act?"

"I'm warning you, stop this childish act and unblock my number. Now."

"And another thing," his voice grew harsher. "Have you made a decision about Italy? I can't wait forever."

"What's so great about some frozen city in Northern Europe? Come with me to Italy. We can have everything there: power, status, wealth. Isn't that more important than your childish fantasies?"

I was forced to stare at him for a few seconds.

"Oh. I wasn't planning on contacting you again anyway."

"As for Italy," I said, meeting his gaze, "my answer is no."

Soren's face instantly darkened.

I turned to leave, but he called after me.

"Abby, don't be rash! This opportunity in Italy is once in a lifetime. Are you really going to throw it away out of spite?"

"Think carefully about the benefits of this alliance. Don't forget how you got the life you have now..."

Before he could say more, Monica appeared, cutting him off.

"Soren, everyone's waiting for you," she said, her voice soft.

Soren immediately turned to her, his expression softening instantly.

"Monica, I'm sorry. I'll be right there."

As I watched them, I finally understood.

It was perfectly clear who he valued more.

I let out a bitter laugh. To him, my refusal to go to Italy was nothing more than a childish tantrum.

I turned on my heel and walked, and by the time he registered what was happening, I was almost out of the room.

Soren's shout followed me.

"Abby, think about it! Think about what this alliance can do for you!"