He Waited for Fifteen Years Chapter 03

He Waited for Fifteen Years Chapter 03

Lowell’s mouth curved into a cold smirk.

Like I’d just told him a very stupid joke.

“Verona. You’ve been chasing me since grade school. Every single birthday wish you’ve ever made was about marrying me at twenty.”

“You’re twenty now. You really expect me to believe you’d choose someone else?”

Talia leaned into him. Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Hard to say. A family like the DeLucas. There must be men all over the country who’d line up to marry her.”

“Even if every heir in America stood in a row, she’d still only want me.”

Lowell pulled Talia toward the door.

At the threshold, he glanced back at the tailor.

“Have the gown altered and delivered to my place. And those engraved cufflinks. Make them square. No letters.”

The tailor watched him leave and let out a quiet sigh.

“Miss DeLuca. This matter…”

“She likes it, she can have it. I’ll design a new set.”

I sat back down and went back to editing the sketches.

“Ignore what he said about the cufflinks. He’s not the groom. He doesn’t get a say.”

That evening, my friends threw me a birthday party at a rooftop lounge in Manhattan.

The party was well underway when Talia finally showed up. Lowell’s security guard trailed behind her, holding a cheap paper bag. He dropped it at my feet.

“Miss DeLuca’s been waiting, hasn’t she? I wanted to return the gown right after the show, but Lowell insisted on pulling me back into the car.”

She paused. Deliberate. The smile tugging at her lips.

“But you’ve always been so generous. You don’t mind, do you?”

I looked down.

The six-figure gown was wadded up and stuffed into the bag like trash. Dark stains marked the deep red fabric.

Someone nearby muttered in my defense. Others just watched.

“She’s still taking it? She must be so desperate for Lowell she’s got no self-respect left.”

“Pointless. Lowell only wants the oil man’s daughter.”

“Doesn’t matter how hard she tries.”

I looked away and waved a server over.

“Throw this out.”

Then I looked at Talia.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

My voice was so calm it sucked the impact right out of her prepared victory. Her face fell. She clenched her fingers and walked to a seat in the back.

Within half an hour, her Instagram account with millions of followers was trending on X.

“The most perfect day. A dress that fits like a dream. The man I love holding my hand. Watching our favorite musical.”

The photo was her and Lowell kissing in a theater box, fingers interlaced.

It didn’t take long for gossip accounts to dig up every old post I’d ever made on X about Lowell. They lined my old words up next to her new photos and roasted me publicly. On the most viral comparison post, Lowell himself had hit like.

On TikTok, #VeronaDeLucaPathetic cracked a million views in under thirty minutes.

People were making meme edits of my face and spreading them everywhere.

I went cold. I called DeLuca Group’s chief legal counsel directly.

“I want every post using my name taken down tonight. Send formal legal notices to X and TikTok’s legal departments immediately. Tell them we’re filing for invasion of privacy and defamation. Damages set at thirty million dollars.”

Ten minutes later, every related hashtag went gray.

“Content removed for legal reasons.”

The day before the engagement party.

I had gone to the office in the morning to handle some things. When I got home, I saw cars from Lowell’s branch parked out front.

My mother told me Lowell’s parents were here. Waiting for me in the living room.

The moment I walked in, I saw Talia sobbing on the couch. Lowell sat beside her, murmuring comfort. The second he spotted me, his face darkened.

“Verona DeLuca. You went too far. Talia posted one Instagram story and you had every single one of her accounts shut down. You know that’s her livelihood. Are you trying to cut off her income completely?”

I frowned.

“I only had them remove content about me. I didn’t do anything else.”

“You’re still denying it. Who else could do something like that? You’re just jealous of her.”

“That’s not—”

A cold laugh cut me off before I could finish.

“Not even married yet and already talking back to her future husband. Is this how your branch raises its daughters?”

Lowell’s mother sat there, talking to me like I was a junior employee who’d messed up a report.

His father, who had been relatively polite to me not long ago, was now lounging against the sofa cushions with the look of a man who thought he had me completely figured out.

“Verona. We’re not satisfied with a spoiled little heiress like you. But we’ve heard you’re determined to have our son. So we’ll respect your choice.”

“That said, we have conditions.”

A man who looked like a lawyer slid a document across the coffee table toward me.

The title was hard to miss.

“Post-Marital Management Arrangements for Verona DeLuca’s Personal Trust and Voting Shares”

Below it, spelled out with painful clarity:

My personal trust, to be placed under the full management of Lowell’s branch elders after the wedding.

My 15% voting shares in DeLuca Group, to be transferred into an irrevocable joint account.

Those were the shares my grandfather had left me.

My mother had told me long ago. That 15% was enough to block any resolution the board tried to push through that would harm our branch’s interests.

I felt a laugh rising in my throat. I was about to tell them exactly where to put that document when Lowell’s mother stood and walked toward me.

“If you want to join this family, you first need to learn your place.”

She lifted the document and shoved it so close it nearly touched my face.

“At tomorrow’s party, you are not to wear red. Red is for Talia. You will wear green. Is that clear?”