Aelia’s POV
Silk restraints bit into my wrists, keeping them bound above my head. Each tug only made them tighten. The air was heavy with the lingering scent of cologne, whiskey, and something faintly metallic. Every breath felt suffocating. The last thing I remembered was leaving the courthouse, the weight of another failed case pressing on my shoulders. A sharp sting at my neck then darkness. Now, I was here. The door creaked open. A chill ran through me as footsteps echoed against the floor. Slow and purposeful. The air shifted. It wasn’t just someone entering the room. It was something far more suffocating. A force. A presence that made the space around me feel smaller, like the walls were inching closer. Even before I looked up, I knew who it was. Pedro Montonio. A raw, instinctive terror gripped my chest. He stepped into view, his sharp blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my pulse stutter. He didn’t need to speak for the threat to be clear —he was power. The kind that didn’t need weapons to destroy someone. I forced myself to breathe. “Please… let me go,” I whispered, the plea barely leaving my lips. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Silence. Then, a low chuckle. It wasn’t amused, it was entertained! “Oh, I’m sure you’re the one,” he murmured. The certainty in his voice sent a cold shiver down my spine. Swallowing hard, I forced my gaze up, locking eyes with him. I regretted it instantly. Pedro was beautiful in the cruelest way possible. Everything about him. His chiseled features, the perfectly tailored suit, the way he carried himself, radiated control. But it was the way he looked at me that made my blood run cold. Like he had already decided something. Like I had no say in it! “Mister—Mister Pedro Montonio,” I stammered, throat tightening. “What do you want from me?” He tilted his head slightly, watching me as though my reaction fascinated him. “You don’t remember?” A sinking feeling twisted in my gut. The lawsuit. I had sued one of his companies. A construction firm responsible for demolishing a building while people were still inside. A mother had begged me to fight for her son. And I had. Now, I was here. I clenched my fists, fighting against the trembling in my fingers. “If this is about the case, I won’t back down. Your men destroyed lives. I won’t—” “This has nothing to do with your little lawsuit,” he interrupted smoothly. My breath hitched. Then why am I here? Pedro reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He tilted the screen, flashing me a photo. Of me. Unconscious. My stomach coiled with panic as realization hit like ice down my spine. He had taken a picture of me while I was unconscious. I forced back the nausea rising in my throat. “I want to leave,” I managed, voice shaking. “Now.” Pedro ignored me. He stepped forward, and before I could shrink away, his fingers reached for the clip in my hair. The moment it came undone, auburn waves spilled over my shoulders. “Perfect,” he murmured, as if confirming something. A violent shudder ran through me. I jerked my head back. “Don’t touch me.” His fingers stilled midair. For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression, surprise? Amusement? Then, he moved. The bed dipped as he placed one knee on the mattress, closing the distance between us in a single breath. Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping the bedpost near my head. The wood creaked under his strength. I froze. Trapped. His other hand tilted my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. I wanted to pull away. Wanted to scream at him. But I couldn’t move. His thumb brushed against my lower lip, slow, deliberate. Panic clawed at my throat. “Do you want to add kidnapping to your list of crimes, Mr. Montonio?” I snapped, trying to ignore the way my pulse hammered against my skin. “Let me go, or I swear—” Pedro chuckled. A dark, quiet sound that sent a sharp, instinctive warning through my body. I gulped my remaining words. He leaned in. “When I see you,” he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek, “all I want to do is tie you to my bed forever.” Ice flooded my veins. Pedro smirked at my reaction, his fingers tracing my jaw before settling back on my chin. “Am I asking for too much by wanting you to work for me?” His words barely registered over the roaring in my ears. “Work for you?” I whispered. “I think it’s a fair trade,” he mused. “Or… would you rather I stick to my fantasy?” Horror crawled up my skin. In the orphanage, the maiden always warned about avoiding trouble, but in my line of work, trouble was simply inevitable. I summoned courage to speak. “I—” but I was immediately silenced with a hand in the air. His cell rang, so I was to be muted! Before answering, he shot me one last glance as though he was admiring a new acquired artifact. I didn’t even dare breathe in those microseconds. And finally the sound of the door shutting filled my ears. Relief flooded me like a tsunami. Thirty minutes later, the sharp buzz of an office phone yanked me back to reality. Somehow, I had made it back to work. I had no memory of the journey, only the suited men shadowing me as I hurried through the lobby, my heart still racing from him. Pedro Montonio. A chill grew goosebumps on my body. I shook my head, trying to ground myself. The office hummed with activity, calls ringing, papers shuffling, co-workers exchanging files. No one paid me any attention. Good. “Coffee?” An intern raised a cup toward me. “No, thanks,” I breathed, dropping into my seat. My fingers reached for my glasses, but my mind was far from work. I caught my reflection in the monitor. Shit. My hair. Digging through my bag for a clip, I sent a few items tumbling onto my desk. One, unfortunately, was a tampon. I snatched it up, cheeks heating uncontrollably. Thanks a lot, Darla. That woman shoved random supplies into my hands like she was running a convenience store! In my frantic attempt to shove everything back, my glasses slipped from my fingers. A sharp crack followed along. “No, no, no—” I lifted them up, dread sinking in. A long diagonal crack sliced through the left lens. This day could not get worse. Then I heard it. “Mr. Pedro is so my type.” My ears perked up at the hushed gossip behind me. For some reason, my heart was pounding like I’d just been caught redhanded. “If it weren’t for those dangerous rumors, I’d dream about him,” one of my co-workers sighed. “Forget the rumors,” the other replied. “His wife is the real nightmare. They say she’s the shadow you see during sleep paralysis. If she even thinks you’re interested in her husband, you’re done for.” The words hit me like a truck. His wife? My fingers flew to the keyboard. Within seconds, Pedro Montonio’s profile filled my screen. And there it was. A red carpet photo of him with a stunning woman nestled in his arms. A supermodel. An aristocrat. His wife! I exhaled sharply. Unbelievable. My phone rang, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Hello, Mrs. Patricia.” “Aelia! Thank goodness. I’ve been calling all morning.” The voice of my most recent client, a desperate mother, echoed through the receiver. “I’m sorry, I got caught up,” I said quickly. “Are you okay?” she asked, concern lacing her tone. I hesitated. “I’m fine.” A lie. But she had enough to worry about. A deep sigh came from her end. “The construction company offered money.” Her voice cracked. “As if money will make my son walk again.” A lump formed in my throat. I had spent a month fighting for this case, and now they wanted to silence it. “I won’t let them dismiss this,” I promised. “I’ll fight with you until the end.” Patricia sniffed. “Thank you, Aelia. You’re a good girl. Your parents must be so proud.” A hollow feeling settled in my chest. I didn’t have parents. I would never acknowledge the Spencers as my family. They never should’ve adopted me. Forcing a small smile, I changed the subject. “I’ll see you tomorrow for chapel.” After ending the call, I leaned back in my chair, exhaling deeply. My gaze flickered to the orphanage donation flyer pinned to my desk. I needed to visit home. My real home. The place that reminded me I still had a family, one that actually loved me. I miss Penelope… and Sam, and Luca… and… I just have to survive whatever storm was coming first! Paying the orphanage a visit is too risky, not with Pedro Montonio after my life. His last words refused to leave my head. “If the mountain won’t come to me, then I simply have to make it.” That sounded like a threat. A death threat, even. Right?!A heavy silence blanketed the dimly lit office. The air smelled of expensive cigars and leather, thick with tension.Pedro Montonio leaned back in his chair, his sharp blue eyes locked onto the man standing before him. Across the polished oak desk, Derrick, his most trusted right-hand, stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back.“You have one minute,” Pedro said, voice smooth but laced with ice. “Tell me why the shipment never reached the port.”Derrick swallowed but didn’t flinch. He had been with Pedro long enough to know fear was useless. “There was a breach,” he said steadily. “Our men were already stationed, but someone leaked the coordinates.”Pedro’s fingers tapped against the desk. Once. Twice. A slow, deliberate rhythm.“And?”Derrick exhaled sharply. “Before we arrived, the authorities were already conducting a sweep. The shipment never made it. We lost everything.”The tapping stopped.The air grew heavier.Pedro said nothing, but the silence alone made the temperature in t
Aelia’s POVWhat a way to start the week.I just got these glasses, and now they were broken. Frustrating, but not nearly as concerning as what I’d overheard earlier.If those women were right, then Pedro Montonio wasn’t just some powerful man. He was married. And his wife? A supermodel with a reputation so terrifying, people compared her to a demon in sleep paralysis.I clapped my cheeks, inhaling deeply. It’ll be fine. This is probably just a one-time thing.“BOO! Four eyes.”“Ahh!” I shrieked, too loudly. A few heads turned, and my scowl deepened at the culprit.Mike.“Can you be serious for once? We’re at work,” I hissed.He grinned, completely unbothered. “Wait, did you grow an extra eye? How many fingers? Quick, count!” He wiggled his long fingers in my face, his expression alight with mock delight.I swatted his hand away. “Are you enjoying yourself?”“Only if you are.” That smug smile of his could probably steal the breath of any woman in this office.Except mine.“I’m immune
Aelia’s POVMy gaze snapped to Pedro Montonio’s grim expression, my heart hammering against my ribs.The two men in front of me weren’t just kneeling anymore. They were kowtowing—slamming their foreheads into the pavement with sickening force. Again. And again. And again.Blood splattered onto the ground, mixing with the dirt and filth of the alley. The sound of flesh meeting concrete echoed, a gruesome, rhythmic beat.I stumbled back in horror. “What are you doing?! Stop that—you’ll kill yourselves!”They didn’t stop. They didn’t hesitate.It was like they had to do it. Like stopping wasn’t even an option.I turned to Pedro, my voice shrill. “Make them stop! Stop it!”He barely glanced at me. “I can’t.”I blinked. “What?”His expression remained infuriatingly calm. “You have to accept their apology to free them.”“…What?” My voice came out breathless, disbelieving.I looked back at the men. Their movements had slowed, their strength fading, but they kept going despite the mess of blo
Aelia’s POV“Where are you taking me?”My voice broke the silence between us, though I wasn’t sure if there had ever been silence to begin with.Pedro had been stealing glances at me the entire ride, as if I might vanish if he looked away.“Actually, we can talk right here in the car,” I added quickly, my unease growing. “I know this is about the lawsuit, so just state your claims now. I’ll answer—”His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from my face.I jolted in shock.“Please refrain from touching me, Mr. Pedro.” My voice came out sharper than intended. “I’m listening to whatever you have to say about the case.”He laughed.Again.I swear, if I heard that damn laugh one more time, I might lose my mind.“What makes you think you’re here because of the lawsuit?”His question sucked the breath from my lungs.“…What?” My voice barely escaped my lips.Pedro’s gaze remained steady. “I told you before. You’re a replacement for what I lost. I could care less about the case.” He leaned b
Aelia’s POVThe silence between us was razor-thin. I took slow, measured steps, keeping the jade hairpin pointed at my own face, a desperate gamble to keep him at bay. Pedro’s gaze followed my every move, sharp and unreadable, his muscles coiled as if he were waiting for the exact moment to strike.I just needed to get around him. Just a few more steps, and—My eyes flickered to the locked door for a fraction of a second.A mistake.He moved like the wind, so fast my brain couldn’t catch up before he was on me. The hairpin was ripped from my grasp, clattering uselessly to the floor. A breath later, my back hit the bed, and before I could react, he was on top of me, pinning me down with a force that made my lungs feel caged.His hands gripped my wrists, his eyes wild with rage.“This face isn’t yours!” he thundered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t name. “You have no right to harm it!”The sheer intensity in his voice paralyzed me.I wanted to fight, to push him off, to scream
Aelia’s POVPedro leaned against the corridor like nothing had happened, his shirt still wrinkled, his tie loose and dangling below his belt. He didn’t even bother fixing himself, as if my sudden intrusion hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. He glanced at me, his gaze slow, assessing, before his lips curved into a smirk.“Did you want to show me your dress?” His voice was casual, almost amused. “I personally selected it.”My breath caught in my throat. I had run here, demanding answers, expecting at least some explanation, maybe even the barest hint of remorse. But he looked at me like I was the one who had done something absurd. My emotions were all over the place, rage, shame, disgust but I forced myself to keep them buried, locked tight beneath the surface.Just one day. One single day of meeting this man, and I already felt like my life was crumbling.I swallowed down the chaos inside me and forced out the words that had been at the tip of my tongue since the moment I first stepped
Aelia’s POVA low whisper from Pedro’s right-hand man pulled him away from his conversation, his gaze sharpening. He turned to me and his fingers brushed my arm briefly before he said, “Stand by the balcony.”I hesitated, but he had already shifted his attention elsewhere. The order wasn’t up for discussion. Taking a deep breath, I moved toward the edge, gripping the cool railing as I stared down at the chaos of flashing lights and writhing bodies below.The upper floor wasn’t empty. A few other people lingered in small groups, exchanging hushed conversations over glasses of amber liquor. But soon, a different kind of crowd arrived.Women.Dressed in sleek, tight fabrics that clung to their curves, their heels clicking against the marble as they sauntered in like they owned the place. I didn’t have to guess their purpose. It was evident in the way their hands immediately found the nearest suited man, whispering into ears, running fingers over lapels, pressing bodies into them like pay
Aelia’s POVI clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but the sting was nothing compared to the disgust twisting in my gut. My voice came out hoarse, strained from the sheer effort of keeping my emotions in check.“Why?” I asked, staring at the blood still pooling on the floor from the man’s severed wrist. “Why bring me here? Why make me watch this?” My voice cracked. “Why are you doing this to me?”Pedro leaned back in his chair, legs spread apart like he owned the entire world—and maybe he did. He ran a hand down his jaw, amused by my question, as if my horror was a form of entertainment for him.“I used you,” he said smoothly, his gaze never wavering from mine. “Because I know of no other woman who can provoke a man so easily, make him lose all sense of suspicion, all control.” His lips curled into a smirk, as if pleased with his own cruelty. “Just pure, primal instinct.”He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched me.“And for feeling that way towar
The blue and red lights of police cars painted the hospital walls in frantic pulses. Officers moved in clusters, speaking in clipped tones into radios, while reporters hovered just beyond the line of sight, hungry for the next tragedy to feed on.Darcy pushed through them all, heart in her throat, hair clinging to her cheeks from the wind. Her shoes slapped hard against the concrete, breath ragged as her eyes scanned for a familiar face. Then she saw Pedro, standing like a wall of stone by the hospital entrance, surrounded by his men.Without thinking, she lunged.“You bastard!” she screamed, her fists slamming against his chest. “How could you let this happen?! How could you lose her?!”Pedro barely flinched. His eyes were dead and distant.Adrian appeared out of nowhere and caught Darcy from behind, dragging her back just enough to stop her flailing.“Darcy,” he whispered tightly, trying to calm her, but she kept fighting him.“She’s missing because of you!” Darcy’s voice cracked. “
Pedro stood motionless, his hands tucked behind his back as he stared at Valeria like she was a puzzle missing only one piece, one very damning piece!His sharp eyes slid from her face to the bag in her hands, then back up again.“I’ll ask only once,” his voice was calm, but laced with steel, “why the hell are you here?”Valeria held her chin high, calm on the outside, but her knuckles turned white as she gripped the handle of the tote bag. “I brought you some essentials. You haven’t been home in weeks. Thought you could use food, clothes. Maybe a razor.”She extended the bag slightly in his direction like evidence, but Pedro didn’t move.“Convenient,” he murmured. “The one day you visit the hospital, she disappears.”Valeria’s jaw tightened. “Are you accusing me?”Pedro didn’t answer. He stepped in closer. Too close. His breath mingled with hers, his voice dipped into a dangerous whisper. “You think I’m stupid?”“I didn’t even go near her room,” she said defensively, expression smoo
One Hour EarlierIt was warm here, too warm.Aelia stood barefoot in a sun-drenched field, the sky a rich shade of rose gold, the air thick with the scent of lavender and memories. The children from the orphanage were playing in the distance, their laughter soft and echoing, like it came from behind a veil. And beside her, Daisy stood. Whole. Smiling.“You could stay,” Daisy said, her voice feather-light, as if it didn’t belong to a body at all. “You and I… we could watch over them together.”Her fingers were laced with Aelia’s, the grip gentle but firm. Aelia looked down at their joined hands, felt the warmth, the strange comfort of it all.But something tugged.Not her hand, but her soul.“I can’t,” Aelia murmured, her voice uncertain, hollow. “I promised Penelope. I can’t leave her… I can’t leave them.”Daisy’s smile didn’t fade. “Then go,” she said softly. “I’ll take care of things here. You still have something to finish.”Aelia hesitated, but nodded and just like that, the golde
Pedro hadn’t slept.He sat in the dim hospital room, his elbows propped on his knees, shoulders weighed down by exhaustion and a torment he refused to name. His phone was in his hand, the screen glowing faintly as he scrolled through the collection of photos and videos his shadows had gathered, moments he hadn’t been a part of, moments when Aelia had smiled without knowing he was watching.Aelia sipping coffee by the window of the villa, her eyes reflecting sunlight.Aelia pacing while on the phone, probably with Darcy, her brows furrowed.Aelia sitting on the beach, hugging her knees, completely unaware of the drone that captured her.He hated himself for them now. Hated that he’d needed control so desperately, he resorted to surveillance. And yet he couldn’t stop watching her. Because she wasn’t smiling anymore. She wasn’t pacing or sitting or drinking coffee.She was motionless, and he was losing his mind.A quiet knock on the door pulled him back. A nurse stepped in politely, sa
Darcy sat on the edge of the bathroom counter, hissing softly as Adrian dabbed disinfectant on the cut across her forearm. Blood had already been cleaned off, but the skin was torn and angry, a painful reminder of Sola’s outburst.“You’d think I got slashed in a knife fight,” she muttered, wincing. “Didn’t know betrayal came in crystal form.”Adrian didn’t laugh. His brows were furrowed, jaw tight. He’d been quiet ever since Sola left, and that silence was beginning to hum with tension.“I’m fine, you know,” Darcy added, watching him through the mirror. “I’ve taken worse.”“That’s not the point.”Adrian’s voice was low, sharp. He met her eyes through the reflection, and she saw it the, the fury still simmering behind his calm exterior.“She could’ve hit your face. Or your head.”“But she didn’t.”“I should’ve thrown her out the second she showed up.” His voice cracked with restraint, like he was still trying to rein it in. “I knew she was spiraling.”Darcy tilted her head, still watch
Adrian hadn’t slept.Not really, anyway. The past month had been a cycle of long nights and longer days, of watching Pedro lose his mind by inches and keeping the pieces of their crumbling world from collapsing entirely.But tonight, for once, the storm had settled.At least, it seemed that way.Darcy was sitting across from him in his apartment, barefoot, legs tucked beneath her, a half-empty glass of whiskey dangling from her fingers. She had been talking about something, Aelia, Pedro, maybe the last time she had gotten a decent night’s sleep but her words had faded into the background, a low hum against the quiet crackle of the fireplace.Adrian wasn’t listening. Not because he didn’t care. But because he was too busy watching her.She was tired. She would never admit it, but he could see it in the slight droop of her shoulders, the way her usual sharp edges had softened just enough to let him see the exhaustion beneath.“You’re staring.”Adrian smirked. “I was admiring.”Darcy sno
One Month LaterThe world outside carried on as if nothing had changed. Stocks rose and fell, wars were waged in boardrooms and back alleys, and people continued to wake up, go about their lives, and go to sleep.But Pedro’s world hadn’t moved in a month.Aelia was still unconscious.She lay in that same pristine hospital bed, her body too still, her face far too pale. The machines surrounding her had become a familiar sight, the beeping of her heart monitor a sound Pedro had memorized. He hated it. That thin, fragile line on the screen was the only sign she was still here, yet it was never enough. It mocked him.Every day was the same. He’d sit by her bedside, watching, waiting, barely speaking. Some nights, he’d stay so late that Derrick had to pull him away, reminding him he still had an empire to run. Some mornings, he’d wake up with his head resting beside her arm, exhaustion having stolen away his consciousness for only a few fleeting hours.And then there were the days like tod
Louisa’s words haunted him.“I have a boyfriend now.”She’d said it so easily, so carelessly, as if it didn’t mean anything, as if he didn’t mean anything. But Derrick knew better. He felt better. That night they spent together wasn’t just lust, wasn’t just two people falling into old habits.It meant something.He saw it in the way her fingers trembled when she touched him, the way her breath hitched when he whispered her name.And now she was telling him she’d moved on? That she was settling down?Bullshit.But it wasn’t until later that day, when he saw it with his own eyes, that the words really started to sink in.He hadn’t been looking for her. Not intentionally, at least. But as he stepped out of the hospital, irritation already simmering beneath his skin, he caught a glimpse of her.Louisa.Standing by a sleek black car, dressed sharply in one of her tailored outfits that hugged her body just enough to be professional but tempting.And she wasn’t alone.A man, tall, broad-shou
Darcy Never Liked Hospitals.They smelled like loneliness and disinfectant, like whispered prayers and silent cries. They were places of endings and beginnings, of cold white lights and walls that had absorbed too many last goodbyes.But she was here.Standing beside Aelia’s bed, her fingers curled tightly around the metal railing as if her grip alone could anchor her friend to this world.Aelia looked small against the stark white sheets, too pale, too still. The rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring her vitals felt both comforting and unbearable, a cruel reminder that she was alive but not awake.Darcy’s throat tightened as she studied the bruises peeking out from beneath the hospital gown, the quiet evidence of the violence Aelia had endured. It was wrong. Aelia had always been the strong one, fierce and stubborn, the kind of person who could stare down danger without flinching.Now, she looked defenseless.“She looks better than yesterday,” a voice murmured from behind her.