Cole Lopez leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he listened to his team's final remark. After an hour of intense brainstorming, he leaned forward, adjourning the meeting.
"Alright, I think that covers everything. Let's reconvene next week to discuss the financials." The team nodded and began gathering their belongings, while Cole stood, smoothing his tailored suit. With a curt nod at the team, he turned to leave, but Rachel, his PA, appeared in the doorway. "Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this," she said, her voice urgent as she stretched out her iPad to him. Cole's face flashed with annoyance. Couldn't she have just shown him whatever it was that was so important in his office? He valued efficiency and disliked interruptions. "You could have at least waited until I left the conference room," he spat as he grabbed the iPad from her. "If it wasn't urgent, I wouldn't have bothered you, sir," Rachel retorted, but her voice remained calm and polite. Cole scanned the screen, his eyes locking on the bold letters that read: CAMILA MILLER; WIFE OF BILLIONAIRE LAWSON MILLER BELIEVED TO BE AMONG FATAL ACCIDENT VICTIMS "It's the accident on the highway. Many bodies are unidentifiable, and your sister hasn't been found yet," Rachel explained, but the only words Cole picked up were 'accident,' 'Camila,' and 'unidentifiable.' A cold dread crept up his spine. His sister, the only family he had, was a victim in that accident that happened a day ago. And she hasn't been found? Cole's face darkened, and he flung the iPad back to Rachel. "What do you mean they can't identify the victims?" he growled, his heart racing. "Get me the chief of police on the phone. Now." Rachel took a step back, her eyes widening slightly at Cole's outburst. "Sir, I'll try to get him on the phone, but—" Cole cut her off, his voice rising. "I don't pay you to think, Rachel. I pay you to get things done. Now, get me that phone call!" Rachel, having recovered from his earlier outburst, fumbled with the iPad, meanwhile Cole wasn't done giving orders. "Get me every detail about the accident. I want to know everything," he said, clutching his forehead and beginning to pace in the room as all eyes were on him—the team that hadn't left. But he wasn't bothered; his mind was playing the worst-case scenario. Rachel nodded, her fingers flying across her phone's screen. "I'm on it, sir. But I have to warn you, the news is saying it's a devastating scene. Multiple fatalities, and...and the authorities are still trying to identify the victims." Cole's jaw clenched. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he struggled to maintain his composure. Cole stopped pacing and turned to Rachel as if finally realizing something. "Forget about the chief of police. Did the article say what hospital Camila was taken to?" Rachel's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself. "I'm trying to find out, sir. But the authorities are still trying to—" Cole cut her off, his voice filled with desperation. "Find out, Rachel. I need to know where my sister is." ********* Lawson stood in front of the morgue, his feet rooted to the spot. The news he received a few minutes ago echoed in his mind—a woman matching Camila's description had been found and was being held at this very morgue. He didn't want to go inside; he didn't want to face the possibility that the person on the slab could be Camila. He had been searching for her everywhere, but not like this. Not in a morgue, not as a dead body. Lawson took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. But he had to know, just to be sure. With a heavy heart, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The chill of the air conditioning enveloped him, and the antiseptic smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils. Rows of stainless steel tables lined the room, each one bearing a sheet-covered body. "Mr. Lawson, I'm Dr. Patel. I'll be assisting you with the identification," an attendant dressed in a white lab coat greeted Lawson, stretching his hand for a shake. Lawson ignored the outstretched hand, his eyes fixed on the doctor. "Where is she?" Dr. Patel's expression was sympathetic, but his voice was neutral. "Please, follow me, Mr. Lawson." Lawson trailed behind the doctor, his heart hammering in his chest. He braced himself for what he was about to see, hoping that this person wouldn't be Camila. They stopped in front of a table, and Dr. Patel gently pulled back the sheet. "The body is a female, approximately in her mid-20s, with severe burns and injuries consistent with a high-impact accident." Lawson's eyes locked onto the body, and his breath hitched. The face was distorted, the skin charred and burned. Despite this, there were strands of blonde hair on her head. But the ears...the ears were familiar. "There are two piercings in each earlobe," the doctor continued, but the rest of his words drowned in Lawson's ears. Everything else faded into the background. This couldn't be Camila, right? Though the hair might be blonde and this person had two piercings in each earlobe, it could be someone else who happened to match the description. The answers mocked him in the face, but he refused to admit that the woman lying in the morgue was Camila. "Sir, I need to confirm...is this the person you've been looking for, Camila Miller?" Dr. Patel asked softly, but Lawson remained fixed on the body, frozen. Unable to bring himself to say the words, to confirm that Camila was indeed gone. He felt a lump form in his throat as he struggled to find his voice. Dr. Patel's expression was sympathetic, but his tone remained professional. "Mr. Lawson, I need you to confirm the identity. Is this Camila Miller?" Lawson didn't nod, couldn't respond; he just stood there staring at the body like it was a nightmare, one he couldn't wake up from. "Sir?" He couldn't accept the cruel reality, so without a word, he turned around and walked away, leaving the attendant speechless. Lawson stumbled out of the morgue. He felt numb and disconnected, as if he were watching a movie of his own life. He couldn't bring himself to confirm what he knew in his heart to be true. Saying the words, "Yes, that's Camila," felt like a final, irrevocable act. He slipped into his car, slammed the door behind him, and leaned back in the seat. Their final argument, the last and forever one that would never get to resolve, echoed in his mind like a haunting replay. The memory of Camila's angry tears and her hurtful words flashed in his mind. If he had stopped her from leaving, she would still be alive right now. If he had remained composed, even when Camila was trying to get the truth from him, maybe the argument wouldn't have escalated to the point where she was blinded by rage. He massaged his temples, one hand gripping the steering wheel as if it was the only thing holding him together. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, forcing himself not to scream in rage against the unfairness of it all. But a grunt escaped his lips, a primal sound that betrayed his fragile control. He stayed there for hours, drowning in his grief. Finally, he stirred, pulling out his phone to call his assistant. "Hello, sir—" "Call the morgue; I've confirmed the body..." he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Tell them it's Camila.""Our marriage has been beneficial to both of us. You've had a comfortable life, and I've gotten what I needed." "You knew what you were getting into when you married me. You knew I needed a kidney, and you knew I would take care of you financially." "Where are you going?" "Take your hands off me!" Her voice cut through her foggy mind like a knife, and Camila's eyes fluttered open, but they were met with an inky blackness that seemed to swallow everything. She tried to lift her hands to touch her face, but there was this numbness she felt, as if it were wrapped in a thick layer of cotton. As she raised her hand, a sharp pain shot through her head, making her wince. She refused to back down and raised her hand, ignoring the pain as she reached for her face. Yet the feeling she expected didn't come. Instead, her fingers grazed against a thick layer of bandages, covering her face like a mask. Her face... why couldn't she feel her face? Panic set in as Camila's mind struggled to com
TWO YEARS LATER...As the music blares, the thumping bass vibrates through Camila's every cell. This wasn't her typical hangout—the club—but something about the pulsating lights and the anonymous crowd drew her in. Maybe it was the desire to lose herself, to blend in, and forget her troubles. Or maybe it was the thrill of being in a place where no one knew her, where she could be anyone.Strobe lights flash, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the crowded dance floor, but Camila was a few feet away from the chaos, swirling a glass of whiskey in her hand like she had no care in the world.It's a ruse, a way to lose herself."You want another shot, beautiful? I got just the thing," a voice purred beside her.She turned to see the bartender, leaning against the bar, a towel draped over his shoulder. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers."I'll mix you a drink that'll make you forget all about your woes, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath tickling her face. "What do you say,
Camila stumbled slightly as she pushed through the crowded bar, the whiskey coursing through her veins. She wasn't drunk, not yet, but the liquor had taken the edge off, making her feel more relaxed, more carefree, like a bird free from its nest. She slipped her phone into her leather jacket, the screen glowing with the confirmation text from her driver. He'd be waiting outside, ready to take her wherever she wanted to go.As she stepped out into the cool night air, Camila felt a sense of liberation wash over her. The music and laughter of the bar faded into the background, replaced by the hum of the city. She still didn't know why she chose Australia but was glad she did.Taking a deep breath, she strolled to the car with her boots clacking chaotically and disorganized.As she turned a corner, she saw her driver waiting patiently by the car, a sleek black sedan that seemed to blend into the shadows. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of comfort, of security, knowing that she had
Antonio tightly gripped the steering wheel, his mind wandering back to the annoying but intriguing woman. She had grated on his nerves a little, but he still couldn't shake off that fiery spirit and her sharp tongue. He had been taken aback by her defiance... that wasn't something he would expect from a gorgeous face, but at the same time, he tried not to be surprised. It seemed she was someone who was clearly accustomed to getting her way and having others cater to her every whim. Just like his fucking wife—feisty and controlling.Just then his phone rang, and he quickly pulled away from the curb, his eyes flashing back to the damaged bumper. He’d make sure his insurance company squeezed every penny out of them."Good evening, Sir, um..." His assistant began but trailed off as if searching for words. "Sorry to disturb you, but this is urg—""Get on with it. I don't want to remain pulled over for more than two seconds." "Your wife... returned home," he announced, and there was a brie
Camilla jerked out of her sleep clutching to her chest in as if she'd just been startled awake from a nightmare. Groggily she reach out to her phone and noticed several messages flashing on the screenWho else would it be. No one order that her clinging brother. She leaned back no ready to scroll through the tins of messages. She didn't have the mental strength to deal with it. She lay in bed for a moment, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. As she sat up, her mind began to clear, and memories of the previous night's events came flooding back. Her little escapade at the bar, the stranger's harsh words.Speaking of the stranger, Ethan still hadn't gotten his name. He was so rude last night, trying to lecture her on drinking. How dare he? Did he have any idea what she was burying inside, what she wanted to let out? His words had struck a nerve, echoing the very same lectures she'd received from those who didn't understand her. Cole being number one. But what did they know a
As soon as the plane touched down, Camila was the first one out of her seat, practically sprinting through the terminal.She grabbed a taxi, her voice tight with urgency. "Médica Sur, por favor. Rápido."The taxi driver, sensing her distress, nodded and sped off, weaving through the city's chaotic traffic. The journey was a blur of honking horns, crowded streets, and towering buildings. Camila pulled out her phone, dialing Rachel's number, her heart pounding in her chest."Rachel..." Camila's voice trembled, strained with a 20-hour flight's worth of fear. "How is he? Is he stable now?""Camila," Rachel's voice was low, heavy. "He... he hasn't regained consciousness. They're still running tests, but... it's not good."Camila's breath hitched. "What? What do you mean, 'not good'?""His breathing is... erratic. They're doing everything they can." Rachel said.. "Please, just get here.""So you mean he has been unconscious for more than twenty hours? Didn't he receive medical attention on
“Cole," Camila whispered as she gently reached out to touch his hand.His chest rose and fell in a steady, unsettling rhythm. The last time she'd seen him like this, they were kids, and he'd accidentally eaten a peanut butter sandwich at school. The memory flashed before her eyes: the frantic rush to the hospital, the suffocating fear, the helplessness.Now history had repeated itself.She looked around the room, expecting to see Rachel, but she was nowhere to be found.Shouldn't she be right by his side?Just then, the door swung open, and a chorus of voices shouted."SURPRISE!"Camila snapped her head toward the doorway. Rachel stood there, grinning, surrounded by Cole's friends and a scattering of unfamiliar faces. A man holding a violin stood out in the crowd.Before she could process the chaos, they began to sing, "Happy birthday to you..." with a man playing the violin along with them.Camila blinked, turning to Cole only to find him seated upright, grinning from ear to ear. It
Following the jarring collision with Lawson outside the hospital, Camila's already frayed nerves snapped. "You again," she muttered, her voice flat. She couldn't believe her luck—or rather, her lack thereof. Now he had to materialize at such bad timing. Lawson's brow furrowed. "Do we know each other? 'Cause I don't know why it seems you know me from somewhere." His eyes scanned her face, a flicker of confusion mixed with something else.Camila tightened her grip on her purse, trying to maintain her composure. "No," she said, cool and dismissive. "I don't believe we do." She tried to move past him, but he shifted, blocking her path."You were quite rude in the elevator, telling me to stop staring. That implies some kind of… familiarity.""I was stressed," Camila retorted, her voice sharp. "And you were staring. It was uncomfortable.""Stressed?" Lawson repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You seemed… hostile. Like you had a personal vendetta." He paused, his gaze fixed on her fa
Antonio watched himself in the mirror, carefully fastening the buttons on his jacket. Simple and smooth, just as he liked the party to go. It’s Abuelo's birthday party orchestrated by the good daughter-in-law, Emily.So sweet, wasn't it? But he knew better. He knew the gears turning in her head while she planned this messed-up celebration. She always wanted to crawl back to him; well, today she'll know there's nothing to crawl back to anymore.He gave his reflection a little nod, liking what he saw. But then a familiar face appeared behind him in the mirror—Emily.Dark eyeliner, glossy lipstick, and a dress too daring for an old man's birthday. Cleavage on full display on her off-shoulder. She was a vision of calculated allure.Her arms circled his waist from behind. "Good afternoon or evening. Didn’t keep track of time," she whispered, her cheek soft against his back.Without a word, Antonio peeled her hands off; it was a struggle at first, but there’s an advantage to being a man.Sh
Cole watched her, his own eyes wet. He wanted to hold her, but he didn't dare."What can I do, Cami?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Tell me anything. I'll do anything to fix this."Camila let out a bitter chuckle. "You can't change what happened, Cole. Right now… I just need you to leave. I need to be alone."Cole stood there, looking at her, took one step back, then hesitated. His words seemed trapped in his throat.But he could only mutter one sentence. "I'm not giving up."And this only fueled Camila's anger. Her face scrunched up, and she pushed herself up from the bed, but then, there was another knock on the door."Come in," Camila didn't hesitate. Anything to get rid of this suffocating tension with Cole.The door opened slowly, and someone stepped in—someone unexpected.Madison.Camila let out a short, humorless laugh. As if this confrontation with Cole wasn't bad enough. Now here comes a Miller with a pity face, here to play the good girl of the family.Madison walked in cautio
No one spoke.No one moved.The silence was heavy, suffocating. The room suddenly felt too small.Lawson just stood staring at the space Camila had occupied. Her words echoed in his mind like a mantra: "Lawson had my kidney, and yet treated me like I was less than dirt."The truth hit him hard. She was right. He had.He never loved her. He was distant, only saw her as his father's pawn. He could still recall the look in her eyes, the hurt, the resentment as she stormed away that day, like she would shatter if she stayed a minute longer.He should have stopped her. He should have tried harder. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't have led to this very moment.The silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable, before Diane finally shattered it. She turned on Cole, her eyes wild."You didn't come here for the dinner, did you? You don't want Madison. You just used her... and that woman... you willed her to appear to prove that she's the real Camila because..." Her voice trailed off, the words seemi
"Sorry I'm late; I got caught up in traffic."A woman.That same woman. At the elevator. But something's different about her today.The hair, the eyes... what hit Lawson most were the legs.Long, slim, so familiar. At the hospital, he hadn't taken notice, too engrossed in her mysterious behavior and the argument with Diane. Now it's so... even more mysterious.Lawson's eyes narrowed at the figure striding in with an air of confidence. Jaw set, shoulders squared, her smile seemed to hold a thousand secrets... so much arrogance in every step, like she owned the world and it should fall at her feet.She reminded him of a certain someone—same blond hair and blue eyes...Wait...He paused, brow furrowed...Who is she? How is she related to Cole? Or was it a family resemblance? It's so striking.Lawson began to walk over, hand outstretched, prioritizing formality first before going deeper.He smiled, eyes crinkling."And.. you are?"She stopped, her eyes trailing to his hand. She didn't tak
"Where are you going?"Lawson froze at his mother's voice, already halfway to the hall that led to the front door."Out," he said, not breaking his stride."Lawson." Her voice rose, and he stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh."Remember, we have dinner tonight with Madison's boyfriend.""I trust you, Mother. You wouldn't let Madison marry just anybody, so... this dinner? My presence isn't necessary," he shot back, not bothering to turn.His mother shot up from the couch, her voice sharp. "Are you out of your mind, Lawson? We agreed on this already! Before Madison goes through with the wedding, we meet his family."She scoffed, a harsh sound. "Your first marriage was a disaster, and this one, with Diane, has proven to be useless and a..." She trailed off, muttering about Diane's inability to have children and the loss of their first child due to carelessness. Then, her voice rose again, firm. "We – and I emphasize we – are not letting Madison make a mistake."Lawson scoffed, a famili
Camila: *Are you there yet?*Cole: *Please don't go in without me.*Camila: *Why? Worried I might cause a scene?*Cole: *Camila, please, I'm begging you. If you get there first, just hang around. Don't see them without me by your side.*No response.Cole frantically typed another text.*Camila.*No response. "Damn it!" he muttered, tossing his phone onto the dashboard of the car. His eyes, however, were immediately caught by Madison, who sat silently by his side, her gaze fixed on him, too intense."Seriously, Cole? You know I've warned you about texting while driving." She crossed her arms, but there was something else in her eyes Cole couldn't place. "If it was that big of a deal, you could've asked me to type it for you.""No, thank you," Cole replied quickly. "It wasn't...." He trailed off, a knot forming in his stomach under her unwavering stare."Who was that on the phone?" Madison cut in sharply.Cole hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. "Camila."Madison's expressio
"So are we going to just sit here and keep staring at each other like shy teenagers, or are we going to order something to eat?" Camila said, her nails drumming on the table. She would rather be somewhere else. But, well, because of his threats, she had no choice… does she? But Antonio just kept looking at her, no usual smirk this time. His eyes hadn't left her since she walked in. Her hair... Her blue eyes... Every inch of her was being observed, and it was making her skin crawl. And the look in his eyes, the way it narrowed and laid silent altogether, was like he was piecing together a puzzle. Finally, he stirred, leaning back. "I like the new look." Camila chuckled. It's all about her changed appearance, isn't it? Antonio gestured to the waiter, who appeared as if summoned by magic. He ordered for himself and also for Camila, who had just shrugged, preferring to be served any meal knowing she wouldn't even touch it. She had only thirty minutes to spend in this charade.
Today's agenda - A date with De La Cruz and a late-night dinner with the Miller family.What a day it is.Camila smiled, staring at her reflection.It feels good to be back. When she meant 'back,' she meant - blonde hair perfectly styled; she had her brown hair dyed back to the way it should be.Blue eyes - no more brown contact lenses.Earrings in both piercings.Flawless makeup, and a luxurious or maybe slightly intimidating fur coat draped over her shoulders. A short cocktail gown to complement her long legs.She bet it'll give Lawson a bit of déjà vu tonight. Or maybe a heart attack.She looked… intimidating, powerful. Like she could conquer the world.Good.Exactly the vibe she was going for.And as for the name - well, she'll wipe off Hazel for now. Or probably erase it entirely.With a final touch of her signature red lipstick, Camila turned away from the mirror, her movement slow, deliberate, like she had all the time in the world...She wasn't going to linger; she wasn't goin
"That's right," Antonio purred, the sound Camila found both irritating and... strangely compelling.She stifled a groan. This was ridiculous."You can decline, of course; I'm not exactly forcing you into anything. But consider the alternative: a messy lawsuit... no one wants that."He let those words sink in, the threat hanging.Camila's jaw tightened. He knew exactly where to hit her, didn't he?Her dreams, her hard-won independence, all dangled precariously on his whim. The unfairness of it all made her want to scream."Isn't there another way out?" she said, her voice calm but strained, trying to maintain a facade of composure."No, darling, it's a yes or a no. And I need to get my answer right now."Camila's mind raced, weighing the options, each one more unpalatable than the last."Give me a reason," she finally said, her voice low and dangerous. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just tell you to go to hell and deal with the consequences.""You'll be damned sure to regret