I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. Should I test him? Should I see if I still meant something—if there was even a small part of him that would choose me over Alessia?

The words left my lips before I could stop them.

“Lothario… I’m pregnant.”

Silence. I held my breath, waiting for his reaction. Waiting for him to say something—anything.

But he just sat there, twirling his fork, focused on his food like I hadn’t just dropped a bomb on him. No excitement. No anger. No concern. Just silence.

The lump in my throat grew heavier. My hands shook as I reached for my wine glass, but in my panic, I choked. I coughed violently, gasping for air, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

Still, nothing from him. That silence… that was my answer.

Before I could even process the pain cutting through me, the dining hall doors swung open.

“Babe,” a soft, melodic voice called.

Alessia.

I barely had time to compose myself before she walked in, looking effortlessly beautiful in a sleek red dress, her heels clicking against the floor.

Lothario immediately stood up and went to her, his entire demeanor changing. His face softened, his eyes warm and full of something I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Then, right in front of me, he cupped her face and kissed her.

My heart stopped. The sound of their lips meeting felt louder than the ringing in my ears. My whole body went numb, my hands gripping the edge of the table to steady myself.

They kissed. Right there. Like I didn’t exist at all. Like I was nothing.

And then they started talking—about their engagement party, about the guest list, about how perfect everything had to be.

I just stood there, frozen. Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I couldn’t even move to wipe them away. I wasn’t sure if it was from heartbreak or humiliation.

Then, as if finally noticing me, Alessia turned to Lothario, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Who is she?” she asked. “Why is she crying like bitch? Why is she even here?”

Lothario let out a sigh, like this was just some inconvenience he had to deal with.

“She's my newly hired maid. I'll deal with her.”

A maid? Me? My lips tremble. Then he walked over to me, grabbed my wrist with force, and pulled me toward the door.

“I’ll call you later tonight,” he muttered, his voice low. Then he wiped a tear from my cheek, as if that would somehow erase everything.

Before I could say a word, he shut the door in my face.

A loud bang.

And just like that… I was locked out. Thrown away. Like I had never mattered at all.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.

Instead, I walked away that night with my head held high. But I wasn’t done yet. If they wanted a grand celebration, I’d give them a night they’d never forget.

***

The night of the engagement party, I slipped into a sleek black dress. The kind that clung to my curves, elegant but bold. A dress that demanded attention.

My makeup was flawless, my lips painted the deepest shade of red. If I was going to crash this party, I was going to look like I belonged there.

I arrived at the venue without an invitation, but I didn’t need one. The moment I stepped into the grand ballroom, heads turned. Gasps followed.

But I didn’t care about them.

My eyes found him immediately.

Lothario De Luca.

My Lothario.

No—not mine. Not anymore.

He stood tall, his arm wrapped around her. Alessia. The woman he had always been waiting for. The woman he had chosen.

They looked perfect together. Like a couple out of a fairy tale. And I?

I was the tragedy they had left behind.

But not tonight. Tonight, I would remind Lothario exactly what he threw away.

The moment I stepped into the ballroom, silence spread like wildfire. Gasps rippled through the crowd, whispers trailing behind me.

I felt their eyes. Their judgment. But I didn’t stop. I walked straight toward him.

Lothario’s entire body stiffened when he saw me. His blue eyes locked onto mine, widening slightly before narrowing into something sharp—something cold.

“Pearl?” His voice was laced with disbelief. With warning.

I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “Surprised to see me?”

Alessia turned, her perfectly curled hair bouncing as she looked me up and down. Then, she let out a dramatic gasp.

“Oh! You’re—” She snapped her fingers, pretending to remember. “You’re the maid, right? Lothario’s personal housekeeper?”

The room erupted into soft chuckles.

Maid? My chest tightened, but I refused to break.

I lifted my chin. “That’s cute, Alessia. But if I were just a maid, your fiancé wouldn’t have spent six years in my bed.”

Her smile faltered. The guests whispered louder now, shifting uncomfortably.

Lothario’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Leave, Pearl.”

I ignored him. Instead, I reached into my clutch and pulled out the truth.

One by one, I threw the papers at him.

A pregnancy test. Ultrasound images. Hospital records. The final one hit his chest and fluttered to the floor—the miscarriage report.

Gasps filled the ballroom. Someone dropped their champagne glass.

Lothario’s face paled, his eyes flickering to the documents at his feet. His lips parted, but he said nothing. Nothing. He didn’t even try to deny it. But Alessia did.

She let out an exaggerated laugh, crossing her arms. “This is pathetic. Truly.” She glanced at the documents before rolling her eyes. “What are you even fucking trying to prove? That you had some fake pregnancy to trap Lothario? How desperate.”

My nails dug into my palm. “I lost my child because of you,” I whispered. “Because of both of you!"

Alessia scoffed. “Oh, please. Lothario wouldn’t be dumb enough to get someone like you pregnant.”

Someone like me.

Lothario finally moved then.

But not toward me. He turned slightly—toward Alessia.

I saw the hesitation in his eyes. The flicker of something unreadable. But it lasted only a second before his expression hardened.

Then, in a voice so cold it cut through me, he said:

“She’s lying.”

I froze. The air around me seemed to vanish.

Lothario’s gaze met mine, but there was nothing there. No guilt. No regret. No warmth.

Just denial.

“She’s a nobody,” Lothario continued, his tone emotionless. “Just a bitter ex who can’t accept reality.”

The world spun around me.

“Lothario…” My voice cracked.

But he wasn’t done. He turned to the guards standing near the entrance. “Get her out of here.”

A sharp pain sliced through my chest.

He—he was throwing me out? Just like that?

Alessia smirked, stepping closer to him. “Oh, and make sure she doesn’t come near us again. If she tries, I’ll sue her for defamation. Crashing my engagement and throwing these ridiculous allegations? It’s laughable.”

Laughter echoed around the room. Mocking. Cruel. Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I refused to break. Instead, I reached for the nearest table and grabbed a knife.

Gasps erupted again.

Lothario finally reacted, his eyes widening slightly. “Pearl—”

I didn’t stab anyone. I didn’t cause a scene.

Instead, I dragged the blade across my palm, hissing as sharp pain cut through my skin. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, I smeared my blood across the white tablecloth.

A stark red stain. A final mark. The last thing I would ever give him.

“This is my last gift to you,” I whispered. My voice was calm. Steady. Dead.

Then, I turned my back on him. And this time, when I walked away— I never looked back.

I stormed into my apartment, my hands shaking with rage. The moment the door slammed shut behind me, I moved.

I tore through my closet, grabbed every single one of his shirts, his jackets, the ties I carefully picked out for him when he was still mine. I yanked open the drawers, shoving everything Lothario left behind into a black trash bag—his cologne, his expensive watches, even the old, worn-out hoodie he used to let me wear when I got cold.

I loved that hoodie once. Now, it made me sick.

His expensive suits? In the bin. The stupid love letters he once wrote? Burned.

I dragged the bag outside, dumped it into the trash bin, and without hesitation—I set it on fire. Flames roared to life, swallowing every trace of him.

Good. Let them burn!

I stood there, watching the fire, feeling the heat on my skin—wishing it could burn away everything he put me through. Then, I pulled out my phone. The one number I swore I would never call again.

My father. Mr. Alexander Anderson. The most influential and richest man in the Europe.

The phone barely rang twice before a deep, familiar voice filled my ear.

"Pearl?"

Just that. Just my name. And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My throat tightened. I had spent years proving that I didn’t need him. That I could survive without his money, his influence—his name.

I disowned myself just to show him I could make it on my own. And I did.

But right now, at this moment… I had nothing.

I broke down. I sobbed so hard I could barely get the words out.

"Dad… can I come home?"

There was a pause. A deep breath. And then—

"Of course, sweetheart. You never had to ask."

My knees buckled. Relief flooded my chest so intensely it hurt. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to be his daughter again.

As I packed the rest of my things, the memories hit me like a tidal wave.

Memories of him.

Of Lothario De Luca

The man I fell for long before he even knew my name.

***

I had been working part-time at a small coffee shop back then, juggling shifts to pay for my rent and college fees.

And every morning—like clockwork—he walked in. He always ordered the same thing. Black coffee, no sugar.

At first, he was just another customer. But then, I started noticing him. The way he ran his hands through his hair when he was stressed. The way his brows furrowed when he stared at his laptop screen. How his lips curved into a soft smile whenever I handed him his cup.

He was beautiful. A quiet mystery that I couldn’t stop watching.

And then, one day… he spoke to me.

"You always look so tired," he had said, tilting his head. "Do you even sleep?"

I laughed. "I try."

"Try harder," he said, sliding an extra five-dollar tip across the counter. "And maybe eat something too."

My stupid heart fluttered. I had a massive crush on him.

But that was all he was back then—a distant fantasy. A man I admired from afar.

Until the night I saw him fall apart.

I still remember it. The way he sat slumped on a park bench in the pouring rain, clutching a rejection letter. His hands trembled. His eyes were hollow. And for the first time, he looked… human. Broken. Defeated. I didn’t know what came over me, but I sat beside him, holding out my umbrella.

"You again?" he muttered, looking at me with tired eyes.

I shrugged. "You looked like you needed company."

That night, he told me everything. How he had nothing left. How Alessia had just left him for her career. How he was drowning in debts and failures.

"Then let’s start with nothing." I whispered. "Together."

And just like that, we became us.

I worked double shifts—day and night—just to support him. I paid for our rent. Our food. Even the small investments that would eventually build his empire. He worked as a waiter, but it wasn’t enough. So I pushed myself harder. I barely slept. I barely lived. But I never gave up on him.

And when his business finally took off—when he became the Lothario De Lothario the world admired—he had held my hands and whispered,

"I will never love anyone but you. You are my everything, Pearl."

Lies. All of it.

I gave him everything. And when he finally reached the top, he handed it all to her.

I was still shaking when my phone rang again.

Lothario. I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. Then, I answered.

Before I could speak, his furious voice crashed through the speaker.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he growled. "Crashing my engagement? Making a scene? Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"

I let out a bitter laugh. “You lost that privilege the moment you betrayed me.”

"You need to learn your lesson, Pearl," he snapped. "I need Alessia for my company. Her father is Mr. Alexander Anderson! The Europe most richest man. Alessia is the lost heiress. You should’ve respected my decision and played your role!"

I almost laughed. Alexander Anderson. "My role?" I repeated.

"Yes!" His voice dropped lower, almost desperate. "You should’ve just waited for me. Stayed quiet. You should've understood that I need her for my business, but it's you whom I love!"

I felt sick. He expected me to sit in the shadows like some mistress while he paraded her as his wife?

No. Never.

I exhaled sharply. “Go to hell, Lothario.” Then, I hung up and blocked his number.

By midnight, I was at the airport. As I boarded the plane, I looked out at the city one last time.

The place where I built my dreams. Where I built us. Where I lost everything.

I took a deep breath. And then, I let it all go.

Goodbye, Lothario. Goodbye, my past.

I was going home. But this wasn’t the end.

I would rise again—stronger, smarter. And when I did, Lothario would regret ever betraying me.

Because this time, I wouldn’t just walk away.

I would destroy him.