Chapter 8
The rage burst through my careful composure.
I lunged for the earring, my fingers tangling in Sophia’s perfectly styled hair. Everything blurred into desperate movement and muffled screams.
When reality snapped back into focus, the butterfly earring was in my trembling hand, and Sophia was sobbing, blood trickling from her earlobe.
Adrian’s grip on my wrist was bruising, his eyes colder than a winter race at Silverstone.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Riley? Have you completely lost it?” His voice cut like shattered carbon fiber.
Disappointment had long since drowned my heartbreak. I clutched the earring, my voice breaking. “This was my mother’s. The only thing I have left of her.”
I’d given him one of the pair during those precious days when I thought Rain and I would last forever.
Now he’d handed it to another woman like it was nothing more than a trophy.
“It’s just an earring,” he sneered. “I can’t wear it, so why shouldn’t Sophia have it? Apologize. Now.”
I searched his face desperately, looking for any trace of the man who’d once cried when I gave him this precious piece of my history.
But Rain was gone, leaving only Adrian Chase’s perfect mask.
“Riley, I have the biggest race of my season in days. Are you trying to sabotage me?”
Reality crashed back. I’d promised his mother not to upset him before Monaco. My future in Milan depended on keeping that promise.
I bowed to Sophia, swallowing my pride. “I’m sorry.”
Adrian released me with a shove that sent me stumbling. I watched him lift Sophia like she weighed nothing. “I’m taking her to the hospital. Don’t be home when I get back. You need to think about what you’ve done.”
The room filled with whispers as they left, but I didn’t care. I had my mother’s earring back.
Mom had been a lead singer in an indie band. Dad fell for her fire but later condemned her for the same passion, calling her unstable, unfit for family life.
My clearest memory is her on stage, these butterfly earrings catching the lights as she owned every note.
She was my definition of radiance. It inspired my dream of designing jewelry that could capture that same magic.
When she got sick, Dad never visited once.
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Chapter 8
But Mom never regretted being herself. Her last words to me in that sterile hospital room: “Never lose yourself in someone else’s story.”
I laughed bitterly. She’d be so disappointed in how far I’d let myself fade.
“Please miss, anything helps.” A young boy’s voice cut through the snowy night, his eyes hungry and hopeful.
I dropped Adrian’s birthday gifts – the Tiffany necklace and bracelet – into his cup. His face lit up like Christmas.
It was time to find myself again, to make Mom proud.
Being alone wasn’t nearly as scary as being lost.
