After I Finally Became His Perfect Donna Chapter 14

After I Finally Became His Perfect Donna Chapter 14

It was a rare, brilliantly clear day. Julian had suggested taking me to the harbor nearby for a walk.

I locked up the seafood stall and was about to head out when I spotted the familiar car parked at the curb.

“Lyra!”

My feet froze. I turned around.

Dorian’s face was ashen, the bandage on his head already seeping blood.

And his cousin Luca had Mireille pinned in place, her face twisted with terror.

“What do you want now?” I couldn’t even hide the exhaustion anymore.

Dorian lurched forward a few steps, only to be blocked by Julian’s cold stare.

“Lyra, I know I was wrong. I should never have believed her. I should never have done that to you.”

Dorian’s eyes were red-rimmed, his voice shredded. He pointed at Mireille behind him, his gaze savage. “You hate her, don’t you? I brought her.”

Then he turned to Mireille and gave the order. “Kneel.”

Mireille’s eyes went wide with disbelief, tears streaming down her face.

“Dorian? You want me to kneel for this bitch?”

Dorian backhanded her across the face.

He stared down at her, every syllable a blade. “I said kneel. Kneel before Lyra. And apologize.”

Mireille looked into the hatred in his eyes, her body shaking violently.

Finally, under the stares of everyone watching, her knees hit the ground hard.

“I’m sorry, Lyra. I was wrong. I lied to Dorian. I stabbed myself…”

Mireille was sobbing hysterically, that delicate, gentle facade she’d worn for years shattered beyond

recognition.

Dorian looked at Mireille on her knees, then turned to me, hope burning in his eyes.

“Lyra, look. She confessed.”

“If it makes you happy, I can lock her in the same Academy you suffered in. Or keep her in a basement for the

rest of her life.”

“As long as you stop being angry. As long as you come back. Whatever you want, it’s yours…”

I looked at him, and a laugh escaped me. A real laugh, so hard my eyes nearly watered.

“Dorian, do you honestly think this kind of belated justice cancels out everything I went through?”

I pointed at Mireille trembling on the ground, then at Dorian with his face full of desperate pleading.

“Back then, you sent me to that hell for her sake. Now, to beg me to come back, you don’t hesitate for a second to say you’ll send her to the same place.”

“Dorian, you don’t love her. And you don’t love me either.”

Dorian froze. He shook his head frantically. “No, Lyra, I truly, because I love you…”

I was done. “I’m tired, Dorian.”

“The first time I saw you after getting out, my body wanted to drop to its knees. The fact that I can stand here

right now and talk to you like a normal person took more strength than you will ever understand.”

“If you feel even an ounce of guilt toward me, then please. Don’t come back. I’m begging you.”

“Julian, let’s go.”

I took Julian’s hand, turned around, and didn’t look back.

“Lyra!”

Dorian didn’t come back.

At first I thought he was just retreating temporarily. That he’d show up again in a few days.

But one day passed. Two days. A week. Two weeks. The spot across the street stayed empty.

Before Luca left, he mentioned that Victor’s people had forcibly brought Dorian back to Manhattan. He’d lost

his position as Don.

But none of that had anything to do with me anymore.

The days passed one by one. Julian came for dinner every Friday. Every Saturday, he showed up at the stall

to help.

He looked good in an apron. I tied a neat bow for him in the back.

A student came to buy fried rice, spotted him, and did a double take. “Professor Rivers, what are you doing

here?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Working my way through school.”

It made me and the student both crack up. We laughed for a long time.

Julian never said he liked me. He never did anything that crossed a line.

Until one evening after we’d closed up, we sat by the water, letting the breeze wash over us. He asked, “Milo,

have you ever thought about the future?”

I considered it. “Make thefried rice shop bigger, so my parents don’t have to work so hard?”

“What about you?”

“Me?” I thought again. “I want to make up the classes I missed in high school. Maybe someday take the GED and get into community college.”

He turned to look at me. There was light in his eyes. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to. You’re so busy…”

“I’m not busy.” He said it simply. “Teaching you. Never too busy for that.”

The wind was strong that night. I pretended to study the tips of my shoes.

My heart was pounding. So fast it didn’t feel like mine.

I thought, Lyra is coming back to life. Clumsy and stumbling, but alive.

Then the earthquake hit.

I was at the stall, cooking fried rice, when I felt the ground shift beneath me.

I thought I was just dizzy from standing too long and ignored it. Then came the second jolt. The third. Each

one more violent than the last.

“Earthquake!” someone screamed.

The whole street erupted into chaos. People shrieked and scattered in every direction.

My parents were inside the shop. I didn’t think. I turned and ran straight against the tide of fleeing bodies.