Chapter 17 Giulia #3
I end up directly across from Alessandro, with my father on my right and Romeo on my left. Luca stands behind Romeo's chair, his expression professionally neutral, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Let's get this over with," Francesco Marchesi says, his voice clipped and businesslike.
"We're here to formalize the dissolution of the engagement between my son Alessandro and your daughter Giulia.
The terms have been agreed upon—a settlement of three million dollars, to be paid within thirty days, plus priority consideration for future business opportunities in the shipping sector. "
My father nods. "Agreed. The funds will be transferred by the end of the week."
"And the reason for the dissolution?" Francesco's eyes move to me, and his gaze is sharp, making me want to shrink back in my chair. "For the record."
This is it. This is the moment where I have to tell Alessandro and his father that I'm breaking our engagement because I fell in love with someone else. I force myself to meet his father's gaze and keep my voice steady even though my heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear myself think.
"I've developed feelings for someone else," I force out. "It wouldn't be fair to Alessandro to enter into a marriage when my heart belongs to another man. And I cannot provide him the sort of wife he deserves."
It’s the most elegant way to say that I’m no longer a virgin. I know everyone across from us understands exactly what I’m saying. I’m for once grateful that I can’t see Luca’s face.
The silence that follows is absolute.
Alessandro looks at me, and his expression is cold enough to freeze blood. "How noble of you.” There's acid in his voice, barely controlled fury beneath the veneer of civility. "To consider my feelings after leading me on. After letting me believe we were building something together."
"Alessandro—" his father starts, but Alessandro cuts him off with a sharp gesture.
"No. I want to hear this." He moves closer to the table, his eyes never leaving mine.
"I want to hear Giulia explain how she fell in love with someone else while she was engaged to me and planning our wedding.
While she was letting me kiss her and hold her hand and introduce her to my family as my future wife. "
Each word is designed to make me feel as small and worthless as possible. And it's working.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice coming out smaller than I intended. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen."
"But it did happen." Alessandro leans forward, his hands flat on the table, his face close enough that I can see the fury in his eyes.
"And now I'm the one who looks like a fool.
The man who couldn't keep his fiancée interested.
The man who got dumped for—" his eyes flick to Luca, standing silent and still behind Romeo's chair, "—for one of your father's soldiers. "
The contempt in his voice when he says "soldiers" makes my skin crawl. Like Luca is beneath him, beneath all of us, like the idea of me choosing Luca over him is not just insulting but incomprehensible.
"Luca Moretti is a respected member of this organization," Romeo says, his voice carrying a warning edge. "And he's going to be family. I'd suggest you choose your words carefully."
Alessandro straightens, but his eyes stay on Luca for a long moment, suspiciously. There's something in that look that makes my instincts flare. It feels dangerous. Like he knows or suspects something. Or is planning something.
But then the moment passes, and Alessandro turns back to me with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"You've made a mistake, Giulia," he says softly, his tone pitying now.
It makes my skin crawl. "You think you're in love, but you're just infatuated.
And when that fades, you're going to realize what you've given up.
What you've thrown away for a momentary passion. "
"That's enough," my father says, his voice carrying absolute authority. "The engagement is dissolved. The terms are agreed upon. There's nothing more to discuss. Leave the paperwork, and I will sign and return it."
Francesco Marchesi nods, standing. "Agreed. Alessandro, we're leaving."
But Alessandro doesn't move immediately. He's still looking at me, and his expression makes me want to run. It’s cold and calculating, utterly devoid of the charm he'd shown me during our courtship.
"I hope he's worth it," he says finally, and then he turns and walks out of the room, his father and their advisors following.
The door closes behind them, and the silence that follows is suffocating.
My father stands, gathering the papers. "That went as well as could be expected. Romeo, make sure the settlement is processed by Friday. Giulia, we’re heading home.”
He leaves without another word, and Romeo follows after giving me a brief, sympathetic look that doesn't make me feel any better. The security follows them, and I know I’m expected to go too.
But for a moment, I’m frozen, staring at Luca as we’re briefly left alone in the private room, the space between us feeling like an unbridgeable chasm.
I stand on shaking legs, gathering my purse and trying to figure out what to say, how to bridge the distance. How to make him understand that I never wanted it to be like this.
"Luca—"
"Don't." He's not looking at me, his eyes fixed on some point past my shoulder. "We're not doing this here."
"I just want to talk. I just want to explain—"
"There's nothing to explain." He finally looks at me, and the coldness in his eyes makes me flinch. "You made your choices. I'm living with the consequences. That's all there is to it."
"But we're getting married. We're going to have a child together. We have to find a way to—"
"To what?" I can see the fury simmering beneath his controlled exterior. "To be happy? To pretend this is something it's not? To act like you didn't destroy everything?"
"I didn't mean to—"
"But you did." His jaw works; his controlled tone is worse than if he’d shouted at me.
"You did destroy it. And now we both have to live with that.
So no, Giulia, we're not going to talk. We're not going to explain.
We're going to get married in less than two weeks because we have no other choice, and then we're going to spend the rest of our lives figuring out how to coexist without killing each other. "
He walks past me toward the door, and I reach out without thinking, my hand catching his arm. "Please," I whisper. "Please don't hate me."
He stops. For just a moment, I think I see something flicker in his eyes that might be pain, or regret, or the ghost of what we used to have. But then it's gone, replaced by that terrible coldness.
"I don't hate you," he says quietly, and somehow that's worse than if he did.
"I don't feel anything for you at all anymore.
And that's exactly how it needs to be." He pulls his arm free and walks out, leaving me standing alone in the private room with the weight of his words pressing down on me until I can barely breathe.
—
The days before the wedding blur together into a nightmare I can't wake up from.
I try to talk to Luca, try to find moments when we're alone, when I might be able to explain or apologize, and somehow make him understand. But he avoids me with a skill that borders on supernatural. He’s always busy when I'm around, always leaving rooms just as I enter them, and always, always finding reasons to be somewhere else.
When avoidance isn't possible, when we're forced into the same space for wedding planning or family dinners or the endless parade of preparations that come with getting married in the Ciresa family, he's cold and infuriatingly polite.
He answers questions with the minimum number of words required, and he doesn't look at me unless absolutely necessary.
He treats me like a business associate he's forced to work with, not like the woman who's carrying his child.
Not like someone he used to fuck and make love to and everything in between, someone who touched me with passion and lust and tenderness depending on the night. It’s as if all of that has vanished, and all that’s left is a shell of the man who once devoured me. Like I’ve devoured him now, instead.
The wedding planner asks us questions about our preferences—flowers, music, the first dance—and Luca defers to me on everything with a flat "whatever Giulia wants is fine.
" It’s clear he doesn't care. To him, none of it matters because the wedding itself is just a formality, a legal requirement that has nothing to do with love or any of the things weddings are supposed to represent.
He’s doing it to save his life and the shreds of my family’s reputation. None of this is for me or for us.
Romeo tries to mediate, but Luca shuts him down every time with a polite but firm refusal. "There's nothing to discuss," he says, some version of it each time Romeo tries. "We both know what this is. There's no point pretending otherwise."
The days pass, and the wedding gets closer.
The distance between us grows wider until it feels like we're standing on opposite sides of a canyon that no bridge could ever span.
I lie awake at night, my hand pressed against my stomach where a life is growing—a child who will be born into this catastrophic mess and grow up with parents who can barely stand to be in the same room together.
I wonder what kind of mother I'm going to be, what kind of life I'm going to be able to give this child when I can't even fix my own.
It feels hopeless. I want to mend things, to let Luca know how sorry I am, but he doesn’t want to hear it.
And it seems as though nothing I can say or do will ever change that.