Meanwhile, Benedict sat in his office, the faint lights of the city casting shadows on the massive heaps of papers on his desk. The room was silent, except for the tick-tock of the clock, each tick singing of the growing pressure mounting against him. The company was at the point of impending doom - once a blooming empire now teetering on the point of collapse. Investors were pulling out, and employees were on their toes. But he had become so caught up in his work and in pride that he hadn't seen this coming.He sank back into his chair, the weight of fatigue pressing down on him like a stone. Still, it wasn't all this-all the chaos and the meetings, nights, and stress-that hollowed him out. It was an absence he hadn't acknowledged before, one that seemed to creep in during the quiet moments.Sabrina.And this memory of her name was like a knife cutting through him as he recalled, in vivid memory, the smooth contours of her face, the gentle smile she habitually wore, the way she would
Sabrina's days in Paris had blurred into one another, with classes, sketches, fabric swatches, and runway rehearsals consuming every waking moment. She was awakened each morning by early rising and deep breaths as the external city outside her window slowly came to life. She was not unaware of what she was up against—it was more than a career to which she was joining. This was her chance at building a future, for herself and for her unborn child.Despite the constant fatigue that came with being pregnant, Sabrina never lost her will to draw. Every design she made was a gesture of love — not only for the unborn baby but also for that which she would be crafting for the future. She learned to balance her dreams with her physical limitations, leaving her feeling exhausted yet pushing herself forward while still needing a lot of rest when necessary.There were days when the exhaustion threatened to consume her. She spent long hours sitting at her desk, going over and perfecting her design
Each passing day, Sabrina's reputation as a designer continued to grow. She threw herself into every project, creativity flowing through her with a fierceness that stunned her professors and peers alike. Her passion for fashion was undeniable, and with each passing week and growing baby bump, the fire inside her to create something that would make her and her child proud had grown just as fervently.There were moments when she couldn't handle it at all-when the countless hours spent in studio sessions and the burden of carrying a child became unbearable.. But every time, she'd think of what Leila said, of the promise she had made to herself and to her baby, and somehow, that's enough to keep her going.As time went by, Sabrina's designs started to stir the waters in the fashion world. Her name started to get whispered with other established names of the best up-and-coming designers in Paris. Rave reviews coupled with subsequent competition entry to make her more stable in the world of
Pregnant or not, Sabrina always joins her university's competitions. She never lets go of an opportunity to compete. Her hands lay gently on her baby bump under the soft lighting from her studio's single overhead lamp. Rain was drumming against the window in a soothing rhythm as she thought. In front of her lay a mannequin draped in the beginnings of her latest design - a gown which would be inspired by her journey. The fabric rippled like waves across the ocean she had crossed to start this new chapter in Paris. She smiled faintly, brushing her fingertips along the intricate stitching. "We did this," she murmured to her unborn child. "Every stitch, every sketch - it's for us." The baby responded with a soft flutter, and Sabrina laughed out in that quiet joy filling her. It was her sanctuary now, a place where creativity could breathe and dreams take shape. It's everything she wanted but never knew she needed-the simplicity, the focus of it-and yet, far removed from the life left beh
The next morning, she was awakened by the birds at the window chirping their melodies out into the air, spilling through the slats of blinds. Warm buttery smells of fresh-baked croissants drifted about the house, and a smile crossed her face. She stretched, yawned lazily, had the comfort of her bed, and then slid out to greet the day. Her dreams from last night lingered, filling her with a quiet determination.Wendy and Leila were already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Wendy was always going to be that matriarch, coordinating the perfect spread, while Leila softly sang in the background, sorting out a vase of fresh flowers in the table center."Good morning, dear," Wendy said, eyes lighting up upon seeing Sabrina come into the room. "How are you feeling today? Does the little one let you sleep well?"Sabrina nodded, touching her belly. "We slept well, Grandma. Thanks."Leila turned, holding a plate of warm pastries. "Sit down, sweetie. You've been working so hard lately; you des
The gentle knock at the bedroom door extracted her from the reverie. In the doorway was "Wendy." Her warm heart immediately saw written on Sabrina's face all the storm and turmoil that had raged behind those bright eyes. She crossed the room without a word and held her granddaughter close."It's all right to feel sad, Sabrina," Wendy whispered softly, her voice calm and soothing. "You have been through so much, and only natural that you would want things to be different."Sabrina leaned into her grandmother's embrace, letting the tears she had been holding back stream freely. "I just. I thought he might change. That he'd realize how much he meant to me, to us."Wendy drew back a little, her hands reaching to cup Sabrina's face. "Some people only see what is right in front of them when it's too late, though. That's not something you get to carry around, my dear. You've already given so much of yourself. Now it's time to pay attention to you and that gorgeous baby."Sabrina nodded, wipi
Benedict sat in his sleek office, with papers all over the top of his desk, completely consumed by the stack of contracts in front of him. The phone buzzed once more, but he didn't answer. He had reached a point where all the business dealings, mergers, and partnerships had taken over his life. It had taken months, but finally his company was back on track. The bankruptcy was a distant memory, and now he had an empire flourishing with partnerships coming in and investors clamoring at the door.But as his business grew, something inside him changed. The hollow hollowness that had plagued him after Sabrina left had begun to recede into a dull ache, an ache that he learned to ignore. His world was centered on success - on his success - with little room for regret or thoughts of the past. That was all before the call came. He glanced at the screen of his phone and saw the name of his attorney. A strange, unfamiliar tightness spread across his chest. He hesitated, his fingers lingering
Teresa sat in the living room of her house in the quiet darkness of the evening, a glass of wine sitting untouched on the table before her. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall filled the only remaining silence in the room, but in her mind, there was no silence; she had just gotten off the phone with Benedict, and the finalized divorce news still weighed at the center of her heart.She loved Sabrina like her daughter. She had always seen in Sabrina all the warmth, kindness, and grace she had hoped for in a daughter-in-law. Now, it was all gone. Sabrina was taken out of their family, and with her, the future of that grandchild becomes worrisome.Teresa took the wine glass, but did not drink from it. She simply let her eyes lose themselves in the space inside the glass as if lost in a thought. Sabrina came from humble beginnings. Teresa knew that raising a child on her own, without the security of having Benedict, without the financial backing that protecting and advancing her fami
Ramos squinted. He digested the picture unfolding before him. His stomach writhed in knots, but not at what he saw here. Rather, it was because of what was inside of him: a searing feeling of betrayal that churned up through his core. He trusted Morales, treated him like a brother. Now, though, his former brother stood before him—a man with blood on his conscience, guilty because he'd torn his oath of protection apart to kill another person.It was then that Ramos' voice pierced the heavy stillness, cold and impassive. "Morales," he said, as if his words carried with them the sentence of an executioner. "You are placed under arrest for having aided and abetted Clara Thompson in her escape and for concealing her whereabouts.Morales didn't blink, didn't budge. His head stayed bent forward, his eyes fixed on Clara's lifeless body as if he could resurrect her with one look. His fingers still grasped the gun, quivering as if they couldn't let go of the cold metal even in the face of inevi
Clara's face curled into something almost dark—unrecognizable."Yes, I do. You don't know what it feels like to be in love that much, have it consume and destroy you. Benedict was the dream, was the future, and then that woman came around and took all of it back."Her lip curled up and curled with contempt."She does not deserve him. She shouldn't even draw the same oxygen as he did."Morales clenched his fists. "And if you do this? So what? They will hunt you. You will have to run for all eternity."Clara moved closer, her voice becoming a snake venom whisper. "That's why you are here, Brother. To protect me. To clear up my mistakes. That's what family does, isn't it?" Clara spoke, her voice dripping with cold resolution.Morales swallowed hard at the sight of her. His little sister-he had no one, really-increasingly sinking into the night."Clara, I'm scared to death of you. I don't want to lose you. For Christ's sake, please … let go of Benedict," he implored, begging her as if sta
The ballroom continued the birthday celebration of Saben. The grand ballroom glowed with a warm golden light, casting over the laughter-filled space. The blue and silver balloons danced near the ceiling as Saben's classmates ran around the superhero-themed decorations, giggling. In the middle of it all stood Saben proudly in his blue suit, the tiny red bowtie slightly askew as he grinned up at his father.Benedict knelt down to fix it. "There. Now you're the handsomest boy in the room," he declared, tousling his son's hair.Saben chuckled at that and peeked over to Sabrina who stood by, her flowing white dress moving across the floor in a graceful elegance as she watches them with absolutely pure adoration in her eyes."You say that all the time, Dad," Saben teased. "Are you sure you're not just saying this because I'm your son?"Benedict grinned. "Absolutely not. You could walk into any room and still be the most handsome kid there."Saben raised an eyebrow in jest. "Even in a room f
Taylor Elite Hotel's grand ballroom became a wonderland for Saben's 8th birthday. Balloons in shades of blue and silver floated near the high ceiling, cascading ribbons adding a playful touch to the elegant space. A massive cake, shaped like a superhero fortress, stood at the center of the buffet table, drawing excited gasps from Saben's classmates.There were giggles in each corner of the room; children running around playing tag near the decorated tables. The room was full of freshly baked pastries and chocolate fountains, and everybody could enjoy such a feast in a view of great-moving music.Saben was dressed in a sharp blue suit with a little red bow tie. He darted across the room, his eyes shining bright with excitement. His energy was infectious. Every few minutes, he would take a friend by the hand, leading them to a different corner of the party, eager to explore everything that his great-grandmother Wendy had prepared.Benedict stood near the entrance, his arm resting on Sab
Delacruz nodded. "We have been monitoring Clara's bank accounts and any possible activity. She has not been using her main account, but we found something else. She accessed an offshore account a few days ago. Small withdrawals, nothing large, but it's enough for her to stay off the radar."Vargas sat forward, his interest piqued. "Could she be preparing something? Something big?""Could be," Delacruz said. "We do not know what exactly she's up to, but that's enough to give me concern. We even tracked her being close to some private jet hangar."Ramos raised his eyebrows. "A jet? She's flying the country?"Possibly, Delacruz answered cautiously, "But she's smart. She could plan here, wait for the right time to make the move."Vargas stood up, the weight of their failure hanging over him. "Then we need to move fast. We can't afford to wait. Every second we lose, she gets closer to whatever it is she's planning."Ramos slammed his hand on the table. "Alright, let's pull everything we've
Clara's eyes turned icy, a fire burning in her chest. "I'll make them regret ever crossing me."He gave her a slow, almost reluctant smile. "Okay then. I'll keep collecting the pieces. But remember, don't go rushing this. If you do, you're walking straight into their hands. Take it slow. Wait for the perfect moment.Clara nodded firmly. "I'm not leaving until I've done what I came for."The man stayed a moment, his eyes furrowed to study her as if trying to read her deeper. "You're not some woman to underestimate. But tread carefully. Those kinds of people don't just fall."Clara said lowly, saying it more to herself than the man. "I'm not afraid of them. They will not know what hit them.He gave her one last glance before he was out the door and leaving, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Clara stood by the door, gazing after him. The quiet in that room had become deafening, but it wasn't the silence that bothered her. It was the wait.But waiting didn't scare her. Clara knew th
Her mind was already racing ahead, thinking about the next steps. The safe house was just a temporary stop, a place to regroup. She couldn't stay there forever. She needed to plan, to figure out her next move.But one thing was clear. She wouldn't be stopped. Not by anyone.The van veered hard onto a quiet dirt road and down from view, where city eyes and noise wouldn't see. Clara felt her heart ease some but didn't calm at all; it settled and hung inside, weighing against the pain. It cost a great deal to what she was to do. Clara was uncertain whether she had been ready to take that risk of its coming result. Yet, there was no backing down. She could not retreat at this point. She had gotten this far.As the van came to a stop, the man glanced over at her. “You’ve made a dangerous choice, Clara. Don’t forget that.”Clara met his gaze without flinching. “I’ve made my choice. And I’m not going to regret it.”The man sighed, opening the door to the small, dimly lit building in front of
In one swift motion, she lunged forward, swinging the keys in a tight arc toward his face. Morales instinctively ducked, but Clara wasn't aiming for his head-she was aiming for his side, for the pocket where he kept his gun.Keys reached out, Morales grunted in surprise, taking a stumbling backward step. Clara's heart pounded in her chest, her veins full of adrenaline, she did not hesitate to use the moment to her advantage. She pushed herself forward swiftly and dodged around Morales's receding back to make a beeline for the gate.But just as she stretched out to the gate, a strong grasp closed around her arm. Morales regained his balance far quicker than Clara had permitted herself to let herself think."Not so fast, Clara," he snarled, twisting her arm behind her back with a jerk that sent a shock of pain through her shoulder.Clara gritted her teeth, refused to let the pain show. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. She kicked backward, aiming for his shin,
The secret, she was certain, lay in the pattern of the guard's rounds—when he passed by her cell, he inevitably stopped on that farthest corner. He never gave her much attention, thinking her just another condemned prisoner with no choice. Clara was not like the others. She was waiting for this one, single chance.She reached up to the small grate above her cot, the one she had secretly loosened during the last few days. It was a tight fit, but Clara had managed to create a small opening large enough to slip through, using pieces of cloth and the thin, wiry metal she'd managed to pry loose.She drew herself up, using the makeshift rope she had prepared, her hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was almost there.Footsteps approached again, closer this time.Her pulse was racing. This was the moment she had been waiting for.Clara gave one final glance over her shoulder, to ensure that Dolores was still asleep. With gritted teeth, she heaved herself up thr