Love,Written In Ruins-Chapter 24: I’m Not Mrs De La Vega

Barcelona glowed like a living painting.

Golden hour poured honey over the narrow streets, catching on the ornate balconies draped with lush ironwork and riotous bursts of geraniums. The sea breeze drifted through the city, warm and salted, stirring the white umbrellas outside the luxurious oceanside restaurant where Marcia Davis sat.

The place was impeccably upscale—white linen tablecloths, gleaming silver cutlery, and the soft, melancholic strains of a Spanish guitar drifting from a nearby performer. Yet none of the surrounding beauty or luxury eased the hard, cold knot in Marcia’s stomach.

​A warm breeze brushed her toffee-brown hair as she sat at one of the outer tables, the brilliant blue expanse of the Mediterranean stretched behind her in a shimmering, mocking horizon. Her phone screen reflected in her wide brown eyes—eyes she shared with the woman on the screen, a woman who had meticulously engineered her life.

​Juliet Davis was impeccably dressed even over video call, her makeup flawless, her toffee-brown hair identical to Marcia’s, curled in deliberate soft waves. She looked like Marcia’s twin, just aged by luxury and relentless grooming rather than time. Her diamond earrings caught the sunlight like tiny, constant flashes of warning.

​"How is my little future Mrs. De La Vega doing today?" Juliet asked with a smile that was too wide, too practiced, too expectant.

​Marcia stiffened instantly, the words scraping down her spine like fingernails on a chalkboard.

​"I am not Mrs. De La Vega, Mom."

​Juliet dismissed the correction with a casual flick of her perfectly manicured hand, adorned with a twenty-carat ring. "You will be, soon enough. Stop being dramatic."

​Her tone left no room for argument. It never did. In the Davis family, destiny was a matter of contracts, not feelings.

​Marcia grimaced, looking away. "You didn’t even like that guy. You called him a filthy bastard. A tarnish to the Starling family name."

​"Oh, please," Juliet scoffed, rolling her eyes with theatrical weariness. "That was years ago when he was a nobody—an inconvenient shadow. Now he’s rich enough to buy Barcelona if he felt sentimental."

​Juliet sipped something off-screen, a champagne flute probably, her smile sharpening into something dangerous. "So yes. Opinions evolve. Situations change. People rise." A pointed pause, delivered with lethal precision. "And Mr. Luciano Solis De La Vega has risen beautifully. He is exactly what we need."

​Marcia looked down at the table, watching her reflection shimmer faintly on the dark glass surface. The compliment felt like poison. Luciano had evolved from a ’filthy bastard’ to ’Mr. Luciano Solis De La Vega’ in her mother’s estimation, solely based on his net worth and influence.

​"And I’m glad the candidates were changed," Juliet continued, her voice smooth but cutting into a different, older wound. "Steve hasn’t done a single thing worthy of praise in his entire life."

​The raw bitterness in her mother’s voice made Marcia flinch, a familiar reflex.

​Juliet clicked her tongue in disgust. "Honestly, with all the privilege that boy had—the Starling name, the inheritance, the opportunity—you’d think he’d have built something—anything. But no. Nothing but disappointment."

​"Mom—" Marcia tried to interject, but her mother cut her off.

​"But Luciano?" Juliet’s voice lowered, becoming conspiratorial and admiring. "Oh, he has become something. Someone terrifying. And he did it all without his father’s help. That alone tells you the kind of man he is. A builder. A conqueror."

​A shadow passed over Marcia’s expression. She didn’t know what kind of man Luciano was, beyond the dark, violent rumors that clung to his name. She didn’t know if she wanted to.

​She opened her mouth, the desperate plea escaping before she could stop it. "But I don’t even love this guy—"

​Juliet’s entire expression snapped into cold, absolute certainty, the amusement instantly gone.

​"It’s not about who you love," she said, her voice quiet but sharp enough to pierce bone. "It’s about the future of our family, Marcia. It’s about securing our position, our safety, and our name. Do you understand?"

​Marcia’s fingers tightened around her phone, gripping the cold metal until her knuckles turned white.

Love had never been a consideration in the Davis household. Compatibility was measured in assets, bloodlines, and the kind of dark secrets that could topple empires if revealed.

​She nodded, because what else could she possibly do? "Yes, Mom."

​Marcia breathed in slowly, her heart thudding against her ribs, recalling the family history.

The whole situation was older than her. Since childhood, she had been groomed for a marriage into the Starling family. Raised to understand her value lay not in her dreams, her heart, or her happiness, but in alliances built in gold and secured by secrets.

​A secret arrangement, whispered within the Davis family long before the Starlings were even aware of it—an arrangement no one but her parents knew the real, desperate reason for.

​She had grown up believing she was meant to marry Steve Starling, eldest son of Daniel and Eleanor Starling. Her future had been predetermined before she even learned how to write her name.

​But five years ago, everything changed.

​Her parents had formally approached the Starlings to cement the arrangement. The Starlings refused at first—until her father met with Daniel Starling privately. No one knew what was discussed in that closed-door meeting, but Daniel returned pale, silent... and agreed to the union, visibly shaken.

​Then, out of nowhere, the Starlings switched the candidate from Steve to Luciano—the bastard son—without explanation.

​An outsider. A stain, Juliet had hissed bitterly at the time.

​Her family was furious. They saw it as an insult, a rejection of their decades-long planning.

​Until Luciano rose. Until the world bowed to his power. Until the bastard son turned into the empire’s most dangerous prince.

​Now her parents wanted him. Wanted the connection. Wanted the prestige of being linked to true power, not just dusty old money.

​Wanted her to be the pawn that secured it.

​Juliet’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, demanding her attention.

​"I intend to make you Mrs. De La Vega," she stated simply, the finality of a dictator. "So make it work. Make him fall in love with you after the engagement. You are a beautiful girl; use your assets."

​Marcia swallowed hard. How could she promise that? How could she trap a man she barely knew, a man rumored to be incapable of real emotion... when she was already deeply in love with someone her family despised?

​Her shoulders straightened anyway, her voice soft but controlled, giving the answer expected of a Davis daughter. "I will make it happen, Mother."

​Juliet’s eyes narrowed—not cruelly, but with that dangerous maternal sharpness Marcia knew too well. "And what about that boy you were seeing? The one you insisted on wasting your precious time with, the coffee shop owner."

​A noticeable tremor ran down Marcia’s spine. The real threat.

​"I hope," Juliet said, her voice turning low and menacing, "that you’ve broken up with that common boy, completely and permanently. Because if you haven’t, Marcia—forget cards freezing. This time, it will come with absolute and immediate disownment. You will be cut off entirely."

​Marcia’s lungs seized in panic. Her voice came out small, forced. "Yes. I’ve broken up with him. And I blocked his number, Mom. He’s out of my life."

​A lie. A necessary, desperate lie wrapped in fear.

​The truth? Her boyfriend, the coffee shop owner, was in Barcelona with her—at her private villa right now. The one person who made her feel human instead of polished, brittle porcelain.

​But she could never speak that truth aloud. Not with the threat of losing everything—her inheritance, her identity, her security, her family’s protection (however suffocating)—hanging over her like a guillotine blade.

​Juliet nodded, satisfied by the performance. "Good. The engagement preparations start soon. Cut your vacation short and come home. There is much to discuss."

​Marcia stared past the phone at the ocean—its endlessness mocking her own lack of freedom, its vastness unreachable. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

​Juliet’s steel sharpened one last time. "And don’t do anything that will stain our family name, Marcia. I trust you to behave."

​"Of course, Mom," Marcia whispered.

​The call ended with a cold click.

​For a moment, she didn’t move. The phone screen dimmed, reflecting her empty expression. Only when a warm breeze brushed her cheek did she lift her gaze.

​Across from her, at her small table meant for two, sat a man—a man carved in quiet elegance and an almost unsettling stillness.

​His dark hair fell in soft, deliberate waves, the kind that looked effortlessly styled, and his steel-grey eyes held a calm that felt too controlled, too deep to be natural.

​A faint smirk curved his mouth, one that never reached those eyes, as if he were constantly amused by things no one else could see. He carried himself with an unsettling grace, relaxed but coiled, like a predator enjoying the patience before the strike. He was handsome in a way that commanded attention without demanding it.

​Marcia swallowed, forcing her composure back into place as she met his gaze, suddenly aware that he had witnessed the entire, damning video call.

​He reached for his glass of iced water, swirling the melting ice slowly.

​"What was that you said you can do to help my situation?" she asked, the words feeling dry and heavy on her tongue.