ERICA Ever since my encounter with Raffael few days ago, it’s been a mental torture for me. We’ve been stumbling into the each other in the house. It was like he was everywhere I went. In the kitchen, garden, laundry room, store room, garage, the list could go on and on. And with every meet, his stare lingered a bit too long on me, dark and coated with disgust like I was covered in shit. And Clarissa? She never spared a minute to make my life miserable whenever she was around. I pushed open the door to Raffael’s room with a soft knock, carrying a bucket and a mop to clean the tiled floors. I had not expected anyone to be inside, so I didn’t glance up until I heard his voice—a low, irritated murmur. “Do you not knock, Erica?” My head snapped up, and my breath caught. Raffael stood by the mirror, half-dressed, his shirt hanging open. He was close enough that I could see the dampness in his dark hair, the slight glisten of water on his chest, and I froze, caught between the
ERICA It felt like time had frozen. The sound of the door opening behind me made my heart stop, and I turned just in time to see Clarissa’s face twisted with fury. Her eyes darted between Raffael and me, narrowing as if she had stumbled upon the greatest betrayal. “What’s going on here?” Her voice was sharp, slicing through the air. I quickly stood up and stepped back. Raffael didn’t answer at first, his face unreadable as he continued to watch me with that same piercing intensity. “Oh so suddenly every one is mute? Damn! What the hell is going on here?!” Clarissa yelled. My mind raced, thinking of an explanation to cover up the comprising situation I had found myself in. Because I knew what this meant for me—Clarissa would intensify her actions in making my life here unbearable. But would she believe me if I told her Raffael made me do it? What if he denied it? It was his word against mine! “Amore Mio, you should have informed me before coming” Raffael flashed Claris
ERICA I quickly pulled on my casual clothes—a flowery gown and a jacket—dressing as fast as I could so I could leave the club. It was already six in the morning, and I needed to get home to prepare breakfast for Raffael. And probably Clarissa, if she was around. Just the thought of going back to that house sent chills down my spine. It was luxurious but felt like a nightmare to live in. The sting of Clarissa’s slap yesterday was still fresh in my mind. She despises me because of Raffael, and he only makes things worse, complicating everything for me. If Raffael hadn’t stepped in, I dreaded to think what would’ve happened to my face. I took a deep breath, hung my bag over my shoulder, and gazed at myself in the mirror. My thoughts drifted to memories of my mother when she was still alive. Life was good back then. I was a simple young girl who adored her parents. My mother was pregnant with Lilibeth, and my father hadn’t become the monster he is now. Now, life has shown me
ERICA Raffael grabbed my arm and dragged me down the alley, his grip firm but not painful. My heart was pounding from what just happened, and my legs felt like they could give out at any second, but I let him pull me along in silence. He opened the door to his car and practically shoved me inside, slamming it shut before moving to the driver’s side and sliding in beside me. As he started the engine, the silence was suffocating. His face was a mask of fury, eyes dark and fixed straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly. The car roared to life, and he sped off, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. I wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but I couldn’t find my voice. The memory of him pulling that gun and shooting Darion flashed in my mind. He did it so quickly, without hesitation—just to protect me. I didn’t know if I should feel grateful or terrified. My hands trembled slightly, and I clutched my bag against my chest, shrinking
ERICADAYS LATER The pulsating beat of the music still echoed through my ears as I walked off the stage and into the dressing room, the hollering of the crowd lingering like a bad taste. My body was exhausted, and my feet ached from the heels that felt more like prison chains than shoes. But I was used to this routine now. I knew the rhythm of it, the push and pull, the mask I wore while up there. I just wanted a moment to myself, to breathe before my next show. I sank onto a small bench and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes for just a second. The thought of changing out of my costume and slipping into something comfortable sounded like heaven. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was called back, expected to plaster on a smile and pretend I was somewhere else entirely. As I reached for a bottle of water, the door creaked open. Three figures slipped into the room, their heels clacking ominously against the floor. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. From the
ERICA The dim glow of the red lights painted the room, flickering faintly across the walls. As I stepped in, the door clicked shut behind me, and I was left alone in the suffocating quiet, broken only by the low thrum of music from outside. The room was hazy with smoke, thick and heady, wrapping around me like a trap. My eyes adjusted slowly, taking in the figure sprawled on the velvet sofa at the center of the room. My heart stuttered. There was something familiar about the way he held himself, his frame cast in half-darkness. A glass clinked as he took a long gulp of the amber liquid, catching the light for just a second before disappearing back into shadow. He set the glass down, a plume of smoke curling from between his fingers as he took a deep drag from his cigarette. He exhaled, the smoke drifting lazily toward me, and in that moment, he raised his gaze. “Come here,” he slurred, his voice rough but laced with an unmistakable authority. I felt my stomach twist, but I
Raffael woke up slowly, his head throbbing from the previous night’s haze. The dim light of the private room made it difficult to gather his bearings, and as he sat up, he noticed an unfamiliar blanket draped over him. Running a hand over his face, he tried to recall the events of the night before. Fleeting, fractured memories surfaced—smoke, red lights, a faint hint of vanilla, and the warmth of someone pressed against him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't place her face. A knock on the door brought him out of his fog. One of the club’s female staff entered, a cup of strong coffee in her hand. "Good morning, sir," she greeted, holding out the cup. He took it with a grunt of acknowledgment, sipping it slowly and letting the bitter warmth wake him further. His brow furrowed as he searched his memory for more details, only to find empty spaces where the night should have been. He knew someone had been with him—a woman—but who? His jaw clenched with frustration. "Do you k
Raffael’s eyes narrowed as he observed Chloe’s body language, the nervous shift in her stance that betrayed her confident facade. Something about her story felt wrong—off, even. He crossed his arms, his gaze cold and calculating as he watched her attempt to stand her ground. "So," he said slowly, letting each word drop heavily, "you were with me last night. And yet… you left without getting paid?" Chloe hesitated, her eyes flickering for just a moment. Then she put on a look of exaggerated innocence, hands clasped in front of her like some devoted, selfless saint. "I—I didn’t want to wake you, Mr. Raffael," she stammered, voice thick with artificial concern. "You looked so peaceful, and I… I was worried. You seemed like you needed rest." Raffael’s jaw clenched. "Worried? You expect me to believe you left out of some kind of noble sympathy?" He took a slow step closer to her, the skepticism clear in his voice. "Let me get this straight, Chloe. You saw me passed out and thought to
MONTHS LATERThe hospital room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of the monitors and the occasional cooing sound from the tiny bundle in Erica’s arms. Warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow over the space. It felt peaceful—like the whole world had stilled just for this moment.Raffael sat beside the hospital bed, his eyes never leaving them. His wife. His child. His entire world wrapped up in a single frame. He had never known a love like this before, never imagined he could feel so much all at once.“She’s perfect,” he murmured, reaching out to gently trace a finger over their daughter’s tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly, her fingers curling instinctively around his. His heart clenched.Erica let out a soft laugh, exhaustion evident in her voice, but her eyes shone with warmth. “She has your nose.”Raffael smirked. “And your lips.”Erica glanced down at their baby, brushing her thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s
ERICA’S POVThe house felt strangely quiet after Clarissa and her mother left, as if all the tension had been sucked out of the air along with them.Raffael’s mother, still standing in the middle of the living room, let out a long, tired sigh. She turned to her son, her expression softer now—almost vulnerable.“I owe you an apology,” she said quietly. “I should have told you the truth a long time ago.”Raffael didn’t respond immediately. His jaw was tight, his hands still clenched at his sides. I could tell he was still processing everything that had just happened.His mother continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Clarissa’s mother has used this secret to blackmail me for years. Every time I tried to stand my ground, she would threaten to tell you. I was so afraid of losing you, of what you might think of me.” She swallowed hard. “But today… today, you stood up for me.”Raffael finally exhaled, his shoulders loosening just slightly. He stepped forward, his voice steady. “Nothing wi
ERICA’S POVIt had been a week since we got back from Chicago, but the tension in the air made it feel like no time had passed at all.Things should have felt different. The house should have felt like home again. But instead, it felt like we were holding our breath, waiting for the next storm to hit.And today, it finally did.Raffael’s mother had insisted on this meeting. She claimed it was necessary after Clarissa went to her, sobbing about their engagement being over. Raffael had been furious when he found out. He didn’t want to see Clarissa, let alone entertain her or her mother in his house. He had made it clear that whatever history they shared was over.But in the end, he agreed.Not for Clarissa. Not for her mother.For his own mother. And, in some way, for me.Now, we sat in the living room, and whatever peace we had hoped to maintain had long since shattered.Clarissa’s mother sat stiffly across from us, her face pinched in disapproval. Her sharp gaze moved between Raffael
ERICA’S POVI sat in the living room, curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the coffee table. My hands rested in my lap, fingers intertwined, squeezing together every now and then just to feel something—anything—other than the dull ache in my chest.The house was quiet. Unsettlingly so.The silence pressed in from all sides, heavy and suffocating, amplifying the thoughts I had tried so hard to push away. The weight of it sat in my chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.I hadn’t seen Raffael since last night. Since that moment. Since my world turned upside down.I told myself I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to see him, that I didn’t need to hear whatever excuse he had prepared.But the truth was, I had spent the whole day waiting.Waiting for him to come to me.Waiting for him to explain.Waiting for something.Something that never came.The hours stretched painfully, each second dragging on longer than the last. Every small sound in the house made my heart jolt, only
RAFFAELThe conference room was empty, silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. I paced back and forth, dragging a hand through my hair, my thoughts a chaotic mess.I hadn’t slept.Not a second.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Erica’s face when she walked in last night—the shock, the hurt, the betrayal. It burned into my mind like a wound that wouldn’t close. She hadn’t given me a chance to explain, hadn’t let me tell her that I pulled away the second Clarissa kissed me.But why would she?She had every right to shut me out.I had spent the entire night waiting for her to open her door, knocking, calling her name, begging for just a second of her time—but she never did. The silence on the other side of that door was louder than any words she could have said.And this morning?Nothing.Not a single sign of her.The realization that she didn’t even want to see me twisted like a knife in my chest.I clenched my jaw, my hands fisting at my sides as I turned
ERICA’S POVThe moment Raffael pulled away, everything inside me shattered.I stood frozen in the doorway, my feet rooted to the floor, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat. My vision blurred as my brain struggled to process what I had just seen. Raffael. Clarissa. Their lips.I felt sick.Clarissa’s eyes landed on me first. The corners of her lips curled into a smug, knowing smirk, and her gaze flicked between me and Raffael like she had just won some twisted game.Then Raffael turned. The second he saw me, all the color drained from his face, his eyes going wide with shock and something that almost looked like fear.“Erica—” His voice was sharp, urgent, desperate.But I didn’t wait to hear whatever excuse he had.I turned and ran.My heart pounded violently against my ribs, my stomach twisting into painful knots as I rushed down the hallway. I could hear the quick, heavy thuds of Raffael’s footsteps right behind me, hear the way he called my name, voice full of urg
RAFFAEL’S POVI sat at my desk, fingers flying over the keyboard as I worked, my eyes fixed on the screen. The glow from the monitor was the only source of light in the dark room, creating shadows across the walls. The document in front of me was filled with numbers, reports, projections—things that required my attention. Things that demanded focus. And that was exactly what I needed right now.Work had always been my escape. The one thing I could rely on when everything else felt out of my control. It was predictable, structured—unlike the chaos unraveling in my personal life. Numbers didn’t change on a whim. Spreadsheets didn’t come with complicated emotions. Deadlines didn’t demand explanations.Unlike Clarissa.I clenched my jaw, fingers pressing harder against the keys.Everything between us had spiraled so fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I hadn’t planned for tonight to end in a fight, hadn’t expected to break things off with her in such a brutal, final way. But it had
ERICA’S POVThe room felt frozen.Clarissa stood in the doorway, her gaze flickering between me and Raffael, her expression unreadable for a moment—until she laughed.A sharp, manic laugh that sent a chill down my spine.Raffael tensed immediately. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he slowly stood up. I could feel the shift in his demeanor, the way his entire body stiffened in shock.“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low, controlled—but I could hear the irritation bleeding through.Clarissa smirked, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder as she stepped inside, completely unbothered by the tension crackling in the room.“Is this why you didn’t bother telling me about your little trip?” she drawled, sauntering past him like she owned the place. “So you could sneak off with her and let her warm your bed?”My heart pounded.Raffael inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as he turned to face her. “Clarissa, don’t start—”“Oh, I will start,” she snapped, turning t
ERICA’S POVIt had been a week.Seven days since Raffael had looked me in the eyes and told me he loved me. Seven days since he’d shattered every assumption I’d ever had about him. Seven days since I’d decided—against my better judgment—to give him a chance to prove it.And in those seven days, I had seen a version of him I never thought existed.It still didn’t feel real.I kept expecting the old Raffael to slip through the cracks—the cold, arrogant man who had once treated me like an inconvenience. The one who barely acknowledged me unless it was to make a sharp remark or push me away. But that man had seemingly vanished, replaced by someone… softer.Not soft—Raffael could never be soft. But different. Gentler.He still had that quiet intensity, that unwavering confidence that made it seem like the whole world revolved around him. But now, that intensity was directed toward me in ways I didn’t know how to handle.He brought me flowers every morning—fresh, beautiful arrangements that