Behind the Lies: I Was Always His (Lyla and Luca) novel Chapter 29

Lyla Monroe (Nova Kingsley)

I should’ve told him last night.

I had every intention to. Right after dinner. Right after I played the piano. Right after the slow dance in the living room that made my heart beat in places it hadn’t in years.

But then we laughed. Then we kissed.

Then I ended up asleep next to him, head on his shoulder, breath tangled in his.

And now… now Luca was standing in my bedroom.

In my childhood room. With the black wig in one hand. My old glasses in the other.

He looked at me like the puzzle pieces had just clicked together in his mind—like he’d been solving a riddle for months and finally saw the full picture.

“I wanted to tell you,” I whispered, barely breathing.

His brows were furrowed, lips parted like he didn’t know what to say first. “But… why?” he finally asked.

I stepped forward slowly. “Because I wanted to make a name for myself. Not as Carter Kingsley’s daughter. I wanted to prove I could do something on my own. That I wasn’t just a spoiled heiress riding on my father’s legacy.”

He still stared at me, the confusion in his face softening into something else—something between shock and understanding. “So all this time… you were Lyla. You worked for me for two years, and you never told me?”

“I was scared,” I admitted, voice shaking. “I didn’t know how to tell you without it blowing everything up. At first, it was just… temporary. A way to see how far I could go without my last name. But then it became something more. The contract marriage happened. You became something more.”

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a long breath. “Is that why you know me so well?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Yeah. That’s why I know exactly how you like your sandwich, why I know your favorite brand of coffee, and how you hate being interrupted during meetings. Why I knew where the bathroom was at your company… and why I knew your mother loves red tulips.”

Luca chuckled under his breath, almost in disbelief. “God… that’s why you felt so familiar. That’s why my mom kept calling you Lyla.”

He shook his head, eyes wide. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”

I shrugged, half embarrassed. “Sounds like you never really paid attention to Lyla.”

He looked at me with something unreadable in his eyes—regret, maybe. Surprise. Affection.

“Still…” he said quietly. “You married me.”

I looked up at him, scared of what he meant.

He met my gaze. “And I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“Should I be?” he asked with a half smile. “A little shocked, maybe. I mean… I married my former secretary in an arranged business deal. That’s a first. But mad? No. What is there to be mad about?”

It was home.

He felt like home.

Him.

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