Rrevenge Of The Heiress

A Strange Rejection

Aria’s POV

I stood there, frozen in place, as the afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows of what used to feel like our living room. Although, I suppose it was never really "ours." The warm rays painted the room in a golden glow, mocking me, highlighting the space that had never truly felt like home.

My eyes locked onto the divorce papers sprawled across the mahogany table, Matteo’s signature bold and unmistakable. A tear slipped down my cheek, landing on the pristine white sheet, smudging the ink. This was it. The end of our three-year marriage. I looked at Matteo standing by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the sunlight. He looked so put together in his tailored suit, like the successful businessman he always was, but to me, he felt cold and unreachable, like a statue.

"You should sign those soon," Matteo said, his voice emotionless. He didn’t even bother to turn and look at me. "We need to finalize this before Reily gets back."

The mention of her name hit me like a punch. Reily. The woman he had always loved. The reason why our marriage was never real. My fingers gripped the edge of the table so hard that my knuckles turned white, but I couldn’t stop shaking.

"We had an agreement," he continued, as if he was talking about the weather. "No complicated property issues. I’ll give you twenty million and the property out west. Gramps would never forgive me if I let you walk away with nothing."

Twenty million dollars. A villa. It sounded like a dream. But all I could think about was how I would trade every cent of it for just a small piece of Matteo’s love. A love I knew I’d never have.

"Does your grandma know?" I barely whispered, my voice trembling. "About the divorce?"

Matteo’s body stiffened, clearly uncomfortable. "That’s irrelevant. This is my decision."

I could feel myself falling apart as more tears slipped down my cheeks. "Matteo, please," I begged, hating myself for being so vulnerable. "Can’t we stay married?"

He finally turned to face me, his dark eyes cold and filled with disbelief. "Why?" he asked, his voice sharp and dismissive.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. "Because I love you," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I love you, Matteo. I still want to be your wife, even if you don’t love me back."

For a brief moment, something flashed in his eyes. Pity? Disgust? I wasn’t sure. But then it disappeared, and he waved his hand as if brushing my feelings aside.

"Enough, Aria," he said, his voice firm. "This was a mistake from the start. You knew this wasn’t real. You knew I was in love with Reily. I only married you because I couldn’t be with her for certain reasons. But she’s coming back now, and I’m going to marry her. It’s over. You need to leave."

His words cut through me like a knife, each one deeper than the last. I lowered my gaze, staring at the floor as tears continued to fall. Three years. I had given him three years of my life, believing that maybe, just maybe, he would see me as more than just a temporary solution.

The sound of Matteo’s phone ringing shattered the silence between us. He picked it up without hesitation, his entire demeanor shifting as he glanced at the screen.

"Reily?" he said, his voice soft and full of affection. "Are you at the airport already?"

I couldn’t hear her response, but I could picture her voice—sweet, playful, everything I wasn’t.

"What? You’re in Chicago already?" His eyes lit up with genuine excitement, something I hadn’t seen in him in a long time. "I’m on my way to pick you up right now!"

He didn’t even look at me as he rushed out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing in the empty room. I stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the space where he had been, feeling the crushing weight of what had just happened. I had given everything for Matteo, for his family. I had played the perfect wife, hoping that someday, he would love me. But now, I realized that day would never come.

The roar of Matteo’s car engine outside broke me from my trance. I rushed to the window just in time to see his black Benz speeding down the driveway, heading straight for Reily.

I don’t know how long I stood there, watching the empty road. Eventually, I made my way to the kitchen, mindlessly preparing dinner, the routine so ingrained after three years of marriage. I heard the front door swing open, and his voice filled the house again—joyful, excited, a man in love.

Something snapped inside me. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine while he threw his love for Reily in my face. I placed the plate down gently, took off my apron, and walked out the back door without looking back.

As I stepped onto the sidewalk, a sleek black Tesla pulled up. The back door opened, and a man stepped out, his warm eyes locking onto mine.

"Aria," he said softly, a voice I hadn’t heard in years. "It’s time to come home."

I hesitated for just a moment before sliding into the car. As we drove away, I looked back at the mansion that had never really been my home, watching it grow smaller in the rearview mirror.

"You’ve been missed, Aria," Nathan Taylor, my childhood friend and CEO of MIRA Group, said gently. "Your brother has fireworks planned for your return."

I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling completely drained. "I don’t think I’m up for fireworks tonight."

He squeezed my hand. "That’s fine. We’ll just go home. Your family has missed you."

Aria Taylor. The name felt foreign after three years of being Matteo Morgan’s trophy wife. I pulled out my phone and read Reily’s last text, the words burning into my brain:

You stole Matteo from me. I told you I’d make you give him up. Matteo is mine, so stop pressuring him!

I closed the message and let the phone fall into my lap. Matteo wasn’t hers. He was never mine either.