Valeria’s POVThe screen of my phone cast a soft glow against my face as I read over the message I’d just sent to Aelia. A slow smile curled my lips. Perfect. The little orphan must be trembling now. But then I looked up and my smile vanished. The sound of silverware scraping against ceramic filled the vast dining hall, each stroke of my father’s knife against his plate cutting through the silence like a scalpel. I didn’t want to be here.The long mahogany table stretched between us, polished to perfection, reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. I kept my posture straight, shoulders squared, hands delicately placed in my lap but beneath the table, my fingers twisted together, cold with sweat.Across from me, my mother sat with effortless grace, her back straight as she raised a teacup to her lips, the floral porcelain barely making a sound as she set it back onto its saucer, unnerving me in the process.Not a single expression flickered across her face. She didn’t
Valeria’s POVThe plan had to be perfect. I had waited too long for a moment like this, and I wasn’t going to let it slip through my fingers.I sat in the dim glow of my private lounge, watching the message bubble on my phone. The final text to Aelia was ready to send. All I had to do was press one button, and the night would unfold exactly as I had planned.But first, I had to light the match.Pedro was unpredictable, a beast barely restrained behind an expensive suit and cold, aristocratic manners. But I knew his weaknesses. His triggers. He had spent years trying to master them, but his monster was always lurking beneath the surface, waiting for a reason to shatter through his control.And I would give him that reason tonight.I stood, smoothing out my wine-red silk dress before grabbing my coat. My driver was already waiting downstairs. The ride to Pedro’s private office was smooth, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows. As the car rolled to a stop in front of the tower
Aelia’s POVThe message arrived like a bolt from the blue, shattering the fragile peace I’d managed to cobble together. Valeria’s name flashed on my screen, her words terse and laden with urgency: “Come to the mansion immediately. You have five minutes before I leak the rest photos.”My heart lurched, a maelstrom of anxiety and dread swirling within me. What more photos does she have on me? Despite everything, the thought of repeating the entire fiasco of distress propelled me into action. Grabbing my coat, I dashed out, the cool evening air biting at my skin as I hailed a cab to the mansion.The journey was a blur, my mind racing with possibilities, each more harrowing than the last. Upon arrival, the mansion loomed ominously, its grandeur overshadowed by an unsettling silence. The butler met me at the door, his expression a mask of professionalism, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern.“Miss Aelia,” he greeted, his voice steady. “Please, follow me.”We navigated the labyrint
Aelia’s POVThe world drifted back to me in fragments, a distant beep, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the gentle hum of fluorescent lights. My eyelids felt heavy, as if weighed down by invisible anchors, but I managed to open them, squinting against the harsh brightness.The ceiling above was an expanse of cold white, interrupted only by the seams of ceiling tiles. Turning my head slightly, I winced at the stiffness in my neck. Beside me stood a woman in a crisp uniform, her back turned as she adjusted an IV drip.“You’re awake,” she observed, her voice soft and melodic. She turned to face me, revealing kind eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses. “How are you feeling?”I blinked, trying to process her question. My throat felt parched, and when I attempted to speak, only a raspy whisper emerged. “Where… am I?”“St. Augustine’s Hospital,” she replied, offering a reassuring smile. “You were brought in last night.”Fragments of memory began to surface—the confrontation, the shattered glass, t
Aelia’s POVThe air in the room shifted like a storm was about to roll in.And then, it did.Pedro Montonio entered, his presence sucking the oxygen out of the space like some black-hole version of a person. My spine went rigid, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed, Valeria, for all her arrogance, straightened slightly, like a cat sensing a predator had just walked in.Oh, this should be fun.Instead of retreating like a normal person with survival instincts, Valeria went for a theatrical exit, reaching out and trailing her fingers along my cheek.“I hope you’re enjoying my hospitality,” she purred, because of course, she had to be insufferable until the very last second.I recoiled so fast you’d think she had leprosy.Pedro saw it. His expression didn’t change, but his jaw clenched, a small, silent promise of consequences.“Leave,” he said. Just one word, cool and final.Valeria smirked, lingering just long enough to make sure she was being insufferable at maximum capacity. “So prot
The night air was thick with anticipation.Inside Aelia’s apartment, the scent of citrus-scented lotion and perfume clung to the air as she stood in front of her mirror, lining her lips with a deep shade of red. Darcy, perched on the edge of Aelia’s bed, was still struggling to comprehend what was happening.“You do realize this is the Twilight Zone, right?” Darcy said, watching Aelia apply her lipstick with unnerving precision. “I mean, I’m actually convinced I’ve fallen into some alternate reality where you, Aelia freaking Spencer agreed to go clubbing on a Friday night. Voluntarily.”Aelia smirked at her reflection, dabbing the excess color off with a tissue. “Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this moment.”“Oh, I’m enjoying it, alright. I just think I deserve some answers!” Darcy threw her hands up. “For three years, I have begged you to come out with me, and each time, you hit me with the ‘I don’t drink, I don’t party, I have chapel in the morning’ speech.” She narrowed her eyes
The stage lights had burned into her skin, the music had drowned out her thoughts, and the crowd’s cheers had fed something reckless inside her. She had let herself be swept up in the moment, let her body move in ways she never would have dared before.It was working. It had to be working.Until the lights went out.Now, the club was gone. The heat of bodies pressing in on her, the sticky air laced with alcohol and smoke gone.Instead, she was waking up in a moving car, the smooth hum of an engine beneath her. The scent hit her first: cigarettes, expensive cologne, something darker.Aelia didn’t need to see him to know.Pedro.Her stomach clenched as she blinked through the haze, head pounding from the alcohol still in her system.“You’re awake,” his voice came from beside her, cold and even.She turned her head, finding his sharp profile illuminated by passing streetlights. His grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled, his jaw locked so tightly she thought his teeth might crack.
Pedro slammed the door shut behind them.The bedroom was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. The distant sound of crashing waves outside the estate was the only thing breaking the silence, but inside, a storm raged between them.Aelia stumbled slightly, the alcohol making the world tilt, but she caught herself on the edge of the bed, her breath coming fast. Pedro was in front of her in seconds, reaching out to steady her, but she shoved him away, rage burning through the haze of intoxication.“Don’t touch me!” she snapped, her voice raw with fury.Pedro clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath. “Aelia, you’re drunk.”“And whose fault is that!?” she shot back, swaying slightly but standing her ground. “You think dragging me here will change anything? You think if you keep me locked away like some kind of possession, I’ll suddenly want to be near you!?”Pedro exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to maintain the last shred of his patience. “You need to rest.”Aelia l
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.