My Runaway Groom Came Back I Became His Aunt! novel Chapter 44

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When I took my daughter to pick out a piano, I unexpectedly ran into my mafia ex-husband, the man I had divorced

seven years ago.

The most expensive piano gallery in Boston bathed in the sterile, unforgiving brilliance of clinical LEDs. The air itself

seemed infused with money and power.

The sales associate spotted him instantly. Her smile appeared almost instinctive as she hurried toward him.

“Mr. Deacon, here to choose another piano for your wife? She’s truly blessed. Anyone would envy a husband like you.”

Deacon didn’t respond.

He looked past her eager expression, and his gaze locked onto me, sharp, precise, like the cold bore of a calibrated rifle.

That single look tightened every muscle in my back.

After a moment, he spoke, voice quiet but heavy with a commanding certainty. “Send a Model B to her residence. Bill it

to my estate.

As if this arrangement were perfectly natural. Expected. I gave a small smile and shook my head, signaling that I had

already made my choice.

He acted as though he hadn’t heard. He placed a black card into my palm, his fingertips cold and unmistakably firm.

“Your dream used to be owning a Steinway. But with what you earn now… you could spend a decade in domestic service

and still only get to touch one in a showroom.”

His tone was calm and matter-of-fact, as though stating something universally accepted.

“Nina, it’s been seven years. Stop being stubborn.”

For a second, my mind went blank.

“You’re overthinking it, I said quietly, meeting his eyes. ‘I’m not being stubborn.”

I stepped around him and told the sales associate softly, “The same one I just chose. Deliver it to this address.”

Deacon’s gaze darkened. He clearly didn’t believe me. Suddenly, he reached out and snatched the slip of paper from my

hand. A quick glance, then his brow tightened.

‘Alderwyn Hall?’

His tone shifted, lower, threaded with disapproval and suspicion. “Nina, I know the headmaster well. I’ll speak to him.

You don’t need to do this kind of work. You already clean-

He abruptly stopped. I saw a faint tear gather at the corner of his eyes, a strange, belated softness that didn’t belong on

his face.

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“Nina,” he murmured, “if you’re struggling this much… why haven’t you ever come to me?”

I froze. What cleaning job?

Instinctively, I glanced down at the reflection in the piano’s glossy surface and finally realized I was wearing an old. slightly faded coat. The cut and color really did resemble a janitorial uniform.

Of course. In Deacon’s eyes, I had always lived in shambles.

But I didn’t explain. I only smiled lightly. “I’m buying the piano myself. No need to trouble the headmaster.*

Then I walked to the counter and swiped my card.

Tonight, Maggie would receive her trophy for winning first place in the youth piano competition. I needed to hurry

home and celebrate with her properly.

Boston’s early autumn arrived fast and harsh. Before I even reached the parking lot, a chill slid down my collar and

made me involuntarily fold my arms tight.

When I looked up, a tall shadow blocked my path. Deacon had followed me out. His breath came uneven as he slipped a

new purchase order into my bag.

His voice was low, rough, filled with a kind of stubbornness I had never seen in him. “Nina… I canceled that one. I

changed it to a Steinway-your Steinway.”

His fingers trembled.

‘I remember.’ He met my eyes, each word slow and deliberate. “Your dream was to use it to give a concert of your own.

This piano is my gift to you. Stop resenting me, will you?”

I slowly removed my gloves. I hadn’t said a word yet, but his eyes had already lowered to the scars covering my hands. His

expression collapsed into silence.

He knew better than anyone. I would never perform a concert again.

Eight years ago, I had been the brightest contender in the National Piano Competition.

But the day before the finals, he stole my original composition and gave it to his first love, Kristen Worse, he allowed her

to dump the leftover boiling oil from her fries straight onto my hands.

All ten fingers had split open in an instant, blood and flesh exposed. And he still shielded Kristen behind him, tone cold

and impatient. “Nina, it’s just a competition. Must you fight Kristen for it?”

He forced me into the hospital, his voice sounding like charity. “If you want a championship, I can arrange one next year.

But this time, let Kristen have it.”

I cried until I couldn’t breathe that night. I tore off the blood-soaked bandages and pressed the keys again and again.

Blood stained the ivory white. But I couldn’t even play the simplest piece.

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After that, I was disqualified and publicly accused of plagiarism. I lost control and barged into Kristen’s apartment,

desperate to force her to admit the truth.

But when the door flew open, all I saw were two naked bodies tangled together.

Deacon had Kristen pinned against the bookshelf, his head buried in her chest while his hips drove into her without

mercy.

I remembered nothing except the moment he pulled Kristen into his arms and roared at me, eyes flared with rage.

“Nina, if you still want to be my wife-my Donna-then get the hell out!”

And yet… once upon a time, he had held me like I was the only thing in his world.

How could I possibly let it go so easily?

‘How could you do this to me? How could you?”

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