The Don’s Faceless Bride Chapter 09
I blocked them before they could reply.
Lying in bed, I realized I wasn’t as hurt as I’d expected.
But the weight of it all meant that the next morning, I overslept.
As I rushed out the door with my bag, Luca’s mom called out and pressed a sandwich into my hand.
“I packed your breakfast. Eat it on the way.”
It was hot. So hot that my eyes stung.
At the office, my coworkers looked at me in surprise.
“Ava, didn’t you get married yesterday? You’re back at work today? Not even one day off? You’re such a workaholic.”
“Did you bring us any candy?”
With everything that had happened, I’d completely forgotten.
My phone buzzed. A message from Luca.
“I put candy in your bag. You can share it with your coworkers.”
“The chocolate in the side pocket is not for sharing. It’s for when your blood sugar drops.”
Yesterday while waiting for him to dye his hair, I’d gotten lightheaded from low blood sugar. I hadn’t realized he’d noticed.
I opened my bag—there was indeed a pouch of candy.
Everyone happily accepted it and congratulated me.
No one knew about the drama that had unfolded at the wedding.
At noon, Luca’s message came right on time.
“Eat on time. I ordered lunch for you—it’s downstairs. Go grab it.”
I was confused.
“How do you know where I work?”
“When I helped you unpack last night, your tote bag had your company logo on it.”
I had nothing to say. I went downstairs to pick up the delivery.
Intern Lily teased me.
“Married life really changes a person—Ava’s actually eating meals on time now.”
With my busy schedule, I often lost track of time. By the time my stomach growled, it was already past lunch—and over time, I’d ruined my gut. Sometimes the pain would hit so bad I couldn’t even reach for the medicine.
That evening, as I was leaving the office, I ran into Marco.
He looked like he’d been waiting a while—sweat beading on his forehead from the sun.
“We need to talk.”
I gripped my bag tighter and refused coldly.
“We don’t.”
“Everything that needed to be said was said yesterday.”
Marco frowned.
“Is it really worth it—marrying someone you barely know, just out of spite?”
“Yes.”
I looked up and answered without hesitation.
“He and his family are good to me.”
I smiled bitterly and added,
“Much better than my biological parents who favor Isabella, or you, who used your license plate to declare your love for her.”
At least he’d given me a safety net. Even if Luca and I didn’t last, I could still walk away with the signed divorce agreement.
Marco was speechless. He tried again.
“Does he know about your face blindness?”
“Can he accept that his wife might walk right past him on the street?”
The answer came in the form of Luca, with his ice-blue hair, coming to pick me up from work.
He shoulder-checked Marco away, took my bag, and sighed apologetically.
“I should’ve left earlier. Got stuck in traffic.”
I smiled at Marco.
“There’s your answer.”
“Marco, the moment you agreed to hold that fake wedding for Isabella—we were already over.”
He stared at Luca for a long time. Even after we left, he still stood there.
Maybe at that moment, he remembered a version of himself who, just to make sure I could always find him in a crowd, would break school rules just to dye his hair.