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 air stilled, it was like time itself stopped around them but then the alcohol flowing in Aelia’s veins began to kick again, she staggered back in amusement, muffling a laugh that didn’t have the ability to reach her eyes. “What’s it to you?” She breathed but Pedro suddenly grabbed her shoulders, forcing her eyes to focus on him as he said “A name Aelia, give me a name.” The tension beneath his voice was palatable, it was clear that he was holding back but Aelia didn’t notice any of that, her vision was hazy and a bitter smile stretched her lips instead.She tried wiggling free from his hold, her face scrunched up in discomfort, “it’s none of your business…”“Aelia.” Pedro gritted with his last thread of restraint but the same thing can be said for Aelia because in the next moment she snapped. “I said let go!”“Give me a name goddamn it!—” “ALAN SPENCER!” She yelled out using the momentum to break free from Pedro. “Alan Spencer and one other pervert at my old orphanage! Happy n
The city lights cast faint glows against the penthouse walls as Darcy leaned against the door, her breath uneven. Her mind was hazy, not just from the alcohol but from the way Adrian was looking at her. It wasn’t playful, nor teasing, it was something deeper, something raw.Neither of them spoke.Adrian’s eyes flickered over her, reading the tension in her shoulders, the way she gripped the fabric of her dress as if grounding herself. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, testing the space between them.She didn’t move away.His fingers brushed her arm, barely a touch, yet it sent a shiver down her spine. “Darcy…” His voice was low, rough around the edges.She exhaled shakily, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Don’t.”“Don’t what?” His fingers skimmed higher, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the exposed skin burning under his touch.“Don’t act like this means anything,” she whispered, though her body betrayed her, leaning into him instead of away.Adrian’s jaw tightened. He r
The next morning, Aelia groggily opened her eyes searching for her phone as usual but the empty space irked her and she jolted awake to discover a strange surrounding, her first instinct was to find her purse but a sharp headache halted her movement. With hands to her head she sluggishly reached for her purse and grabbed her phone. “Owww I feel like shit, I shouldn’t have drank so much—ah!”The fog in her eyes cleared. “What? Thirty missed calls?!” A second later and the memories of last night came crashing in, mixed with the splitting headaches. Aelia’s first thought was to glance at herself. A ripple of gasp leaked from her mouth. “It wasn’t a dream, Pedro—Pedro really… he really! Oh my gosh!” Her crash out was interrupted by a continuous buzzing sound. Messages from Mike, Darcy even her workplace groups were flooding in but that wasn’t the shocker. A message from Sola stole her attention. Two words ( “Come home.”)Then suddenly, a ton of messages from her trucked in. (“Whe
Darcy’s head throbbed with a vengeance. Every dull pulse behind her skull reminded her that tequila was the devil, and she had willingly danced with it last night.With a groan, she shifted under the sheets, peeling one eye open and instantly regretted it.Sunlight sliced through the curtains like a knife, blinding her as she hissed and buried her face into the pillow. That was when she noticed the warmth beside her.Shit.She turned her head slowly, already dreading what she’d see.Adrian.Shirtless.Leaning against the headboard with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, his dark eyes locked onto her in amusement.“Morning, sunshine.” His voice was irritatingly smooth, like he’d been awake for hours, watching her suffer.Darcy squeezed her eyes shut. “No. Absolutely not.”Adrian smirked over the rim of his cup. “You sound disappointed. How hurtful.”Darcy threw the sheets off herself and sat up too fast. The world tilted, nausea crawling up her throat. She groaned, pressing her pal
Darcy stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, trying to keep her face neutral despite the fact that Adrian was sitting there shirtless, sheets hanging dangerously low on his hips. His brown hair was tousled from sleep, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement as he stretched, completely unbothered.“You took advantage of me last night,” he repeated smoothly, running a hand through his messy hair.Darcy nearly choked. “What?”Adrian sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I knew you had a wild side, but I didn’t think you’d go that far.”Darcy’s stomach flipped. The worst part? She had no idea if he was lying. She barely remembered anything. The alcohol had wiped out most of her night, leaving her with nothing but fragmented memories and a pounding headache.But there was no way she was admitting that.“You’re full of shit,” she shot back, shifting her weight onto one foot.Adrian just smirked, leaning back against the headboard like a king on his throne. “Oh? So you do remember?”
Aelia sat stiffly across from the woman, she indeed ended up calling her but now she was here, she couldn’t help second guessing her choices.She kept toying with the edge of her glass. The restaurant was high-end, the type with pristine white tablecloths and silverware polished to a blinding shine. She should have felt out of place, but after everything, she had learned to adapt.The woman, impeccably dressed, blonde waves cascading over her shoulders, watched her with a calm expression, the air between them thick with anticipation.“You must be wondering why I stopped you,” the woman finally spoke, her voice smooth and deliberate.Aelia leaned back in her seat, lifting the glass to her lips just to buy herself a moment. “It’s crossed my mind.”The woman’s lips curled at the edges. “You look just like her.”Aelia’s grip tightened around the glass, but she feigned nonchalance. “I get that a lot these days.”The woman folded her hands on the table, studying Aelia with sharp, assessing
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.