C H A P T E R 58

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58 | Au revoir, asshole!

58 | Au revoir, asshole!

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I hate Rafael Grayson.

That's the first thing I was going to scream every morning until it turned into reality.

New day, new beginnings. I was going to listen to Harri boy and be my awesome self. Wearing one of my favorite summer dresses, I looked at the mirror, doing something I hadn't done since a very long time.

I practiced a smile.

There! Perfect!

I could either slip into depression and whirl my mind with dramatic suicide thoughts or cheer up, forget the past and focus on my future. I chose the latter.

I knew it wasn't going to be easy but I had to at least try. There was no way I was going to let Rafael Grayson get me like he did last time.

"Queens don't cry over bitches." I did a hair flip, praised myself and headed down, ready to face their stares like I was some specimen.

My face lit up as I spotted Harri discussing something with Jake as they passed by the foyer. Our eyes met and I used that brief contact to convey my gratitude to him. Poor guy talked to me for more than an hour until I dozed off.

Strolling to the kitchen in desperate need of a strong coffee, my eyes fell over the car outside. So Rafael and his fiancée were heading somewhere to spend some 'alone time'.

And you, dear Vittoria, do not give a fuck about it, do you?

Nope! Not all all!

Good.

I noticed there was a huge gift basket atop the kitchen island. It was filled to the brim with chocolates and decorated with a golden ribbon.

A set of footsteps entering into the kitchen diverted my attention. Charcoal orbs snapped at me, startled to see me normal.

I feel so ashamed with myself about what I did yesterday. No man was worth losing your self respect.

"Morning, Mr Grayson." I smiled widely. "What's with this face? You're going on a romantic trip with your soon to be wife. Cheer up or else she might think you still haven't moved on from your ex."

Damn! This was so thrilling! I could see his ego crumbling and oh boy! That worked like a therapy.

"Where are you off to by the way? Montroc— among the Alps?"

"I hate that place and every single memory of it. Just because you're so curious, I'll tell you where I'm going with my soon to be wife." He spat.

"I'm listening."

"Paris." That sadist smirked, craving to see the pain.

I felt it right there. As I said, hating him wasn't going to be easy. But if fooling myself into it was the only way, then be it. Nonetheless, I didn't let it show. He wasn't the only one to be trained to control your emotions.

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