When Charlotte’s fairytale marriage turns into a nightmare, she tries to fight to stay with her husband and build a home like the one her parents had; filled with love and happiness, but the reverse was the case. Her marriage was filled with heartbreak, neglect, and old flames, which drove them apart. Amidst their failed marriage, they embarked on different journeys as she let go to rebuild her life and pursue her dreams. Rogerio decides to reconcile with his ex-girlfriend and soon realizes that he can’t live without her. He embarks on a journey to win back her heart. Will they be able to mend their broken hearts and give their love a second chance, or are some wounds too deep to heal?
View MoreCHARLOTTEWhen I got home that evening, one of the guards was holding a box, which he handed to me with a cheesy smile. I took it, arching an eyebrow, but as I read the note stamped on the side, I understood why he was smiling that way.Thiago had picked the silliest yet cutest way to ask me out to dinner. I chuckled, thanked him, and walked into the apartment.I knew Thiago was just being performative with this gesture, and while I appreciated it, I wasn’t sure I liked the ideas it might put in the minds of others.Hopefully, they’d been around us long enough to know there was nothing between us - or so I hoped.When I opened the box and turned it on the bed, a dark blue dress fell out. It was short, with purple and silver frills, a bodice I feared would be too tight, and small sleeves that let my arms breathe. I picked it up, admired it, and reached for my phone to call him.“What’s the occasion?” I asked, as he picked up on the first ring.He chuckled, clearing his throat before re
CHARLOTTEWhen I was done, I slid the mug over to him, and he inhaled the aroma first."What’s this called?" he asked, and I shrugged again."That’s not an answer," he added."Actually, it is. It’s called anything your taste buds want it to be. I have my name for it, but I like it when customers give their own. So, what do you want it to be called?" I responded, shoving the pen and notepad back into my pocket.He lifted the mug, looked at me with uncertainty, then sipped from it and smacked his tongue as he set it down."Oh, it’s sweet and hot. I like it," he said and downed the contents of the mug in one gulp, stifling a belch. "That’s actually great. Where’d you learn to mix like that?""Well, it’s been a few years since I bartended, but the art isn’t lost on me," I replied, folding my arms. "So, what do you want to call it?""I’m not sure… I might need another round to be certain," he said with a knowing smile. I chuckled and got to work making another drink for him.***The next f
CHARLOTTEWorking at the club was going smoother than I thought, and despite Thiago’s disapproval, I kept working as a bartender on some nights. When I wasn’t in the office with my nose stuck in financial records that I could barely understand, I took a break from that part of the trade by standing behind the counter, taking orders, and mixing drinks.It gave me the chance to familiarize myself with the regulars, whom I introduced myself to as “Charlotte,” but they preferred to call me “Charlie,” establish customer relationships with new customers, become closer with the staff who seemed to appreciate the approach I had taken towards running the establishment, and brush up my bartending skills.It was fun, a little overwhelming when I first set out to do it and stressful given that I hadn’t done it in a while, but still fun, and I made sure I had the best time. As I progressed, I asked the guards to get me a talkie or one of the earphones they used for their operations, and I became t
Elena“Very well. Also, call me when you’ve decided. I’ll reach out later in the week about the wedding plans. Now that a date has been set, everything should proceed smoothly,” she responded, her tone brisk. She said something to someone in the background, then hung up.I lowered the phone and stared at the screen for a few seconds before shaking my head. I never knew what to expect with the Thuthais. As much as I hated to admit it, Maria was right. No matter how much I tried to stay ahead of the curve, something always came up to make me feel like I was twenty steps behind.I knew I had to talk to Rogerio now. There were no more excuses to reschedule outings or avoid meetings. This had to be done soon. But before that, I needed to talk to someone else: my father.He had been the mastermind behind my insistence on the estate that had been given to Charlotte. No matter how much I tried to explain that securing it was nearly impossible, he remained adamant about pushing for it.It didn
ElenaI lowered the windows and closed my eyes as the wind blew tiny ringlets of hair across my face. I couldn’t stop thinking about Thiago’s words in the warehouse, about Rogerio’s insistence on finding Charlotte. Now I had Maria’s words to add to the mix.I tried to force myself to sleep, hoping it would save me from dwelling on the connection between what they had said, but the sound of the bustling city humming in the distance grew louder and closer, pulling me back.The noise reminded me that something else was out there, something beyond my reach. As we inched closer, I focused on the peculiar thought that every single person walking in and out of stores, yelling on street corners, or laughing in restaurants and bars with their partners and friends had their own unique problems. One way or another, regardless of social standing, we all shared that common thread.“Problems,” I muttered to myself, chuckling softly. “We all have problems we’re dealing with.” I shook my head at the
ElenaThey looked extremely stressed about the idea of answering to Rogerio, and I understood it. The power and social currency of the Rogerio name wasn’t something anyone in their right mind would dare go against.I was fully prepared to wield it to its maximum potential until one of the men finally spoke up, saying the only thing they could do was call Maria to come to the gate. That was perfect, as speaking with her had been my main objective all along.I crossed my arms, maintaining my annoyed expression while waiting. Predictably, Maria took her sweet time, and just as I was about to return to the car to sit and wait, she arrived with an expression far sourer than I could have conjured up myself.“You’re not wanted here,” she said coldly as the guards silently retreated to their posts, pretending not to eavesdrop on the conversation.“You have no right to tell me that. You just work here. This house belongs to Rogerio, and—” I began, but she cut me off with a sharp chuckle and an
ELENAThe meeting with Thiago had shaken me to my core. I had put up a brave face during the conversation, concealing my feelings as best as I could, but deep down, I was terrified of what the possibility of Charlotte being pregnant meant for me. If she were found, it would upend the plans I had carefully set in motion to solidify my place as Rogerio’s bride.For days, I mulled over ways to stay ahead of Rogerio and eventually decided to visit the estate. It had been a while since I was last there, and I wanted to see if my presence would provoke Maria enough to reveal any information about Charlotte’s whereabouts.That morning, I rose early, called my assistant, and instructed her to inform Rogerio that our meeting for the evening had been rescheduled. My plan was to spend the morning at the estate and see Thiago before he left Milan.However, the latter didn’t go as planned - my assistant informed me he had already left the city an hour before. I tried to reassure myself that Thiago
ROGERIO The plan was to wait outside her apartment and watch from a vantage point to study her movements. I wasn't sure what I'd be able to decipher from whatever I saw, but I still needed to satisfy the curiosity lodged at the back of my mind, propelling me to act on impulse. I didn't know what to expect, but even if she didn’t leave the house all day, I’d still be able to see if anyone came to visit. Maybe I’d do a better job identifying what exactly was going on. Half an hour later, I had parked the car a few meters away from her apartment block and turned off the ignition. I watched quietly to see what would transpire, and in all fairness, I was ready to stay there all day if I had to. My phone rang. I reached into my pocket for it and glanced at the screen. It was a call from the office, and I knew who would be on the other end. "Hello, Signor, you…" my assistant began as soon as I hit the dial button. I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. "No meetings
ROGERIOI spent the next few days trying to weigh my options and decide the next step to take. "I have to watch her every move, but how?" I said to myself one morning as I prepared for work. Her assistant had called to reschedule the dinner we were supposed to have later that day, and instead of feeling relieved, my suspicion grew in leaps and bounds.I picked up my suitcase and stepped out of the apartment, deep in thought. She hadn't been here since the last time we spent time together. I was delighted to have my space all to myself the way I'd always wanted, but this new information stirred something in me, and I knew I would be restless until I found a way to sate it.I walked down the hallway, ignoring the guards that greeted me, and stepped into the elevator, trying to put the thought out of my mind and focus on the day ahead. But every step I took seemed to renew the desire to get to the bottom of this. As the elevator moved to the ground floor, I decided what I wanted to
CHARLOTTERogerio was the type of man any woman would dream of. I spent my time doing things I thought would make him happy. Today, I asked the cook, Maria, to prepare his favorite meal in anticipation of his return for dinner. However, he had not arrived yet.“How many times have you seen a rocket in the sky?" I asked aloud.“What?” Maria asked and lifted her head to meet my gaze. “I don’t understand.”“A rocket, Maria. Do you know what that is?" I questioned, arching an eyebrow.“Of course,” she answered with a knowing smile.“Good. How many times have you seen one?”“Barely," she replied, her expression shifting from curiosity to confusion repeatedly.“Yeah. That’s how much I’ve seen Roggie in this house,” I acknowledged, and an awkward silence filled the room.“He doesn’t like to be called that,” she said after a long time.“I know. Perhaps that’s why he’s angry? And he hasn’t come home. Have I let out that name unknowingly?”“I doubt it,” she responded dryly and lowered her gaze....
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