The Girl He Used for Revenge

The only reckless thing I ever did in my last life was fall in love with Luca Moretti.

For five years, I called him my brother by day and lay in his arms by night.

Then half a month ago, outside the Moretti Club, I heard him talking to his men.

"Luca, what are you going to do about the little girl Grace brought in? Weren't you supposed to play with her and dump her? How has this gone on for five years?"

"You got with her to get back at your stepmother, right? Sophia dumped you back then, so you turned around and went after Grace's precious daughter. Don't tell me you actually fell for her."

Then Luca's cold, cruel voice slipped through the crack in the door.

"Love her? Come on. I just haven't decided how to end it yet. Maybe I'll let her stand alone in the church on our engagement day. That could be fun."

Laughter burst from the private room.

I stood outside the door, my hands and feet turning ice-cold. So my five years of love were just his pastime, a knife meant to cut my mother.

I ran from the club in a panic, drove straight into the storm, and died in a pileup on Chicago's South Side.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the year before anyone knew about me and Luca.

This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to throw me away.

I would leave first.

I applied to a school in London and finished my visa paperwork. Now, there were only four days left before I left the Moretti estate for good.

"Mom, my admission letter came through. The apartment in London is confirmed, too. My flight leaves in four days." I placed the folder in front of Mom Grace while she was trimming roses in the greenhouse.

Her scissors stopped in midair. "That soon?"

"Yeah. The school wants me there early for enrollment."

She put down the scissors, took my hand, and lowered her voice. "And that boyfriend you mentioned before? Did you break up with him?"

My fingertips stiffened.

Uncle Vincent happened to walk in from the hallway. When he heard her question, his expression darkened. "What boyfriend? He never came to the estate to meet us. That means he never took our Elena seriously. Good riddance."

Before I could answer, the front door opened. Cold air swept in, and the guards at the entrance bowed at once.

"Boyfriend?" That voice was lazy and dangerous. Luca Moretti was pulling off black leather gloves, fresh from the docks, his suit jacket over one arm and a dark stain on his cuff. His eyes landed on me, carrying a scrutiny only I could understand.

My chest tightened, but I still stood and called him the way I had for five years. "Brother."

Luca watched me for a few seconds, then let out a low, unreadable laugh. He tossed his car keys to the butler and went upstairs.

At dinner, Mom Grace opened a bottle of vintage red and raised her glass, happiness plain on her face. "Tonight, we should celebrate. Elena is about to go to Lon..."

My heart lurched. I cut her off at once. "Mom, this wine tastes a little harsh. Maybe it wasn't decanted long enough?"

Mom Grace paused. "Really? I asked the butler to open it early."

I was already standing with the bottle in my hand. "I'll get another one."

The second the kitchen door closed, I lowered my voice. "Mom, please don't tell Luca about me leaving yet."

Mom Grace looked surprised. "Why? He's always cared about you the most. If you're leaving, he should know."

"I'm afraid he'll worry. I'm also afraid he won't agree. I'll tell him after I get to London."

"All right. I'll keep it from him. But when you get there, message me every day."

I barely ate that night. After returning to my room, I dragged my suitcase out from the back of the walk-in closet and hid my important documents, bank cards, and admission papers in the lining.

At midnight, just as the antique clock finished striking twelve, the balcony door opened from the outside. I wasn't asleep, but I kept my eyes closed and pretended not to know.

The mattress dipped. The familiar scent of cedar and smoke came closer, and the next second, Luca wrapped an arm around me from behind. His warm breath brushed my ear. "Who was that boyfriend they mentioned today?"

I opened my eyes. My body tightened on instinct.

He lowered his head and kissed the side of my neck, amusement in his voice. "Your family wants to introduce you to someone, so now you're hiding from me? Elena, haven't I told you? You're mine. Only mine."

In the past, that would have softened me. Now, I only felt cold.

I pushed his hand away. "Luca, stop. I don't feel well."

He froze. His eyes darkened. "What did you call me?"

In private, I never called him Luca. I called him brother, or when he pressed me too hard, I blushed and said his name the way he liked.

I avoided his gaze. "It's my period."

He stared at me, as if trying to decide whether I was lying. At last, he pulled me back into his arms, his voice a little softer. "Fine. I won't touch you tonight. Sleep."

He said it as if that was the greatest mercy in the world.

I lay in his arms and listened as his breathing slowly evened out, but I couldn't sleep at all.

At twelve, I came to the estate. At fourteen, I called him brother. At eighteen, he found my diary and kissed me for the first time. After twenty, we were harmless siblings by day and a stolen dream by night.

Now, the dream had to end.

I picked up my phone and looked at the countdown.

[Four days.]

Slowly, I moved his hand away from my waist. A moment later, he reached for me again in his sleep. I pushed him away again. After several rounds, I took a pillow from the edge of the bed and placed it between us.

This time, Luca didn't come closer.

I kept my eyes open in the dark, one thought clear in my mind.

Soon, I would no longer be his secret. I would no longer be his possession, and I would no longer be the tool he used to hurt anyone.