Sins of the Past

Prologue

Diana.

The question that troubles me is probably eternal.

How can you erase an ex-boyfriend from your memory forever and never see him again?

Leon Hall King. He ruined everything. Destroyed everything we started together.

Back then, he managed to melt my heart and take hold of it. I surrendered to him completely. I wanted our parents to arrange a marriage. I desired him like I had never desired anyone before.

But he shattered my trust. My love.

Why would he make me fall in love with him if he didn't want anything more? He was the one who rejected me, not the other way around.

Chiara Berardi? Seriously? Her?

At the time, I thought he just enjoyed melting icy female hearts, collecting his own personal gallery of ice shards. But when he said at the party that she would become his wife, I left.

I gave up. I lost.

I refused to be his. And it's his fault. He did this to me. It was always him.

My sister's loud voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Diana, someone's asking for you," Mia says, knocking on my door.

Her voice is surprisingly cheerful. What could possibly make her smile on a day of mourning?

"I'm coming," I reply, rubbing my sweaty palms together.

I'm finishing up a new article about Kate and James Nantaille, who are expecting a baby soon—Kate is pregnant. I still remember her as a fiery, strikingly attractive student who wanted nothing to do with public gossip. It's strange to see her now carrying James' child. Only a handful of people know about this, so I need to finish quickly and publish the piece today.

After graduating from college, my parents didn't give me any job opportunities, despite their promises. I spend my days writing pointless articles just to fill my time somehow. Honestly, it's exhausting.

My parents conveniently handed Mia over to a rich man six years older than her. I resent them for many reasons, but the main one will always be this: I'm three years older than her, and they don't even bother to do anything about me. Poor sweet Mia, who never wanted any of this.

I'm at the perfect age to get married. If they cared about me, they would've told me to drop Mikael ages ago and find a proper match. We all know, just as I do, that I will never marry Mikael. He loves only himself and is more likely to propose to his own reflection in the mirror than to me.

My dress clings to my body, as the house feels even stuffier than the weather outside. I can only imagine how Mia feels right now, wrapped in layers of luxurious, suffocating fabric, her hair loose. It must be hell.

The door to my room opens, and I quickly turn off my laptop, closing the page with my article.

"I said I'm coming," I say, rising from the couch—then stop, my mouth falling open.

He's here.

"What now?" His voice is even rougher than it was three years ago.

"Get out of my room," I say, pointing at the door.

I need him to leave—now—or I'll suffocate. Why is he even here?

He stands still, his face as stone-like as ever. His steely gaze locks onto me as if I should fall to my knees and rejoice at his arrival.

Leon destroyed our love three years ago. And now he's here to destroy my life.