SARAHI sat there on the couch, watching the TV screen flicker with the latest episode of a show I’d started binging. Honestly, this series had become one of the few things keeping me entertained lately. With all the craziness going on outside, it was nice to escape into someone else’s drama for a change, even if it was fictional. The lead character was right in the middle of a heated argument, her face scrunched up in anger, and I couldn’t help but smirk at how intense it all was. At least her problems could be solved by the end of an episode.Mine? Not so much.I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, taking comfort in the familiar chaos of the show. It was weird, you know? I used to have a lot more going on. Parties, dinners, trips. But now? I might as well just enjoy this little slice of distraction. The maids had already left for the night, and the guards, well… they’d been patrolling the house like hawks for days now. I couldn’t really ignore how tense everything had become.
SARAHI hesitated at the door to Marco’s office, my hand resting on the cold brass handle. My heart raced with uncertainty. What could have possibly made him yell my name like that? It was so unlike him. I thought of all the possible scenarios, but none of them felt right.I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.There he was, standing by the window, his back to me. The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. Marco didn’t say anything, didn’t turn around. He just stood there in silence, his posture stiff, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.I stepped into the room, my feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. “Marco?” My voice came out softer than I intended, shaky even. “Why did you call me?”He didn’t answer.I waited a moment, then asked again, a little firmer this time. “Marco, what’s going on?”He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at me over his shoulder. His face was hard, unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark
MARCOAs soon as Sarah slammed the door behind her, the silence hit me like a wave. I stood frozen in the room, my mind racing. What the hell had I just done?I felt the heat rise in my face, my chest tightening as anger burned inside me, but this time it wasn’t aimed at anyone else. It was all on me.You’re a fool, Marco. I thought, pacing back and forth, raking my hands through my hair. You stupid, stupid fool.I wanted to scream, punch something, make it all go away, but nothing would fix what I had just done. Sarah had looked at me like I was a stranger. No, worse—like I was a monster. And maybe I was. I had slapped her. The woman who had done nothing but love me, who had stood by me when everything else was falling apart. And I had hit her.“What the hell is wrong with you?” I muttered to myself, my voice thick with self-loathing. I stopped in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. The man looking back at me wasn’t the man Sarah had grown to fall in love with. He was cold
SARAHI folded the last of the clothes, smoothing out the creases as I placed it neatly on the bed. The room was quiet, too quiet, and I could feel the thoughts creeping in again. No matter how much I tried to keep myself busy, to find something—anything—to focus on, my mind kept circling back to Marco. To everything he had done. To everything he was.I shook my head, mocking myself for even allowing the thought that he might change to settle in my mind. What a joke, I thought bitterly, how stupid was I to believe that there was any chance of him becoming a better person?I couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped my lips. After everything he’d put me through, how could I have been so naive? I had let myself fall into this trap, let myself see something in him that wasn’t there. Maybe it was the few good moments, the small gestures that made me believe for just a second that he might be capable of change. But deep down, I knew better.I should’ve known better.I remembered the beginning,
SARAHI stood there, my hand gripping the doorknob tighter than necessary as Marco and I locked eyes. I could feel my heart racing, the tension thick in the air between us. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this. Not after what he’d done, what he’d said. But now, standing in front of me, he seemed…different. His usual coldness wasn’t there, and for a moment, I couldn’t place what I was seeing in his eyes.I tried to remind myself why I was mad, why I was hurt. But the longer I stood there, the more difficult it became to keep that fire of anger alive. My chest tightened, and I wanted so badly to look at him with the same hatred I’d felt earlier. But as much as I wanted to hold onto my anger, it slipped through my fingers. It was like my emotions were betraying me, softening when they shouldn’t. I could still feel the sting of his words, of his actions, but something in me faltered.We were just standing there, staring at each other, neither of us moving, neither of us saying any
SARAHAs Marco pulled away from the kiss, I felt frozen in place, my heart still racing. I didn’t expect it to feel like that, to be that… intense. His eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I felt like I could drown in them. My heart was still craving more, wanting the moment to last longer, but just as quickly as it happened, he stood up, creating an uncomfortable distance between us.“I’ve been caught up in a lot lately,” Marco started, running a hand through his hair. His tone was softer, like he was trying to figure out how to say something without making things worse. I stayed silent, unsure of what to expect next.“We need a break,” he added, almost as if he were stating a fact, not making a suggestion.A break? My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Was this his way of saying we needed space? Had everything that just happened meant nothing to him? The whirlwind of emotions I’d just gone through came crashing down at his words, and I couldn’t help but feel confuse
MARCOSitting across from Carlos and Tony, I absently moved one of my pieces on the chessboard, half-listening as they rambled about the latest bars and clubs they’d been frequenting. It was the same old talk—places I hadn’t been to in ages. I wasn’t interested in all that anymore. There was always something more important to focus on.Carlos, always the loudest of the three of us, leaned forward, trying to get my attention. “You’re really missing out, Marco. You remember those nights? The drinks, the women, the music! Man, we used to own every spot we walked into.”I waved him off with a small laugh. “Those days are behind me, Carlos. I’ll pass. I’ve got more important things to deal with.”Tony cut in, smirking as he moved his rook across the board. “Of course, you’d turn it down. You’re always buried in work these days, Marco. But seriously, you gotta cut loose sometime. You don’t wanna be that guy who only works and forgets how to live.”I watched as Tony’s knight threatened one o
SARAHAs I stepped out of the shower, the steam clung to the mirror, blurring my reflection. I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my body before reaching for the lotion and moisturizer. The routine of applying these things was almost mindless, but today, I found myself pausing more than once, replaying Marco’s words in my head. “Get ready, we’ll be leaving in the afternoon,” he had said, as if this was just another day, as if this was normal for us. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it—Marco, taking me on a vacation?I shook my head, rubbing the lotion into my skin as I glanced at my reflection. My hair was still wet, clinging to my shoulders as I tried to piece together how this was going to play out. Was this really happening? Was Marco actually… trying?The last few days had been a whirlwind. One minute, we were barely speaking, and the next, he’s apologizing for everything and booking a trip. A tiny part of me hoped this was real, that maybe Marco was changing, but I couldn’t
SARAHI woke up feeling a little lighter, the tension from yesterday not completely gone but dulled enough to let me breathe. I stretched, letting the faint morning light seep into my room before heading to the bathroom. A warm shower was exactly what I needed to set the tone for the day.After drying off, I opened my wardrobe to pick out a dress, only to freeze. Something was off. The neatly arranged rows of clothes I’d spent time organizing were disheveled, with hangers out of place and garments folded in ways I would never fold them. My brow furrowed as I scanned the wardrobe again.“What the hell…” I muttered under my breath.I pushed aside a row of dresses, checking the back for anything missing. My eyes landed on an empty spot where one of my scarves used to hang. Confused, I stepped back, trying to recall the last time I’d used it. Shaking my head, I moved to the drawers and opened the one that held my jewelry.That’s when I noticed it—my bracelet was gone.I stared at the empt
SARAHAs I walked down the hallway, the house felt different—like someone had been here, touching things that didn’t belong to them. It was subtle at first. A throw pillow on the couch was slightly off-center, its crisp lines disturbed. The vase I had carefully placed on the mini table in the living room was now perched on the corner of the mantle.I frowned, stopping mid-step to glance around. I hadn’t moved it. No one ever moved anything in this house unless I told them to. The staff knew better than to tamper with my things.Who was behind this?I shook my head, forcing myself to keep walking, but the unease stayed with me. By the time I reached the kitchen, I was determined to find some kind of distraction. I'd rather be hanging around in the kitchen than seeing him. Avoiding him right now felt far more important.Martha was there, wiping down the counters with practiced efficiency. She turned as I entered, her face lighting up with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” she greet
SARAHI stood in the middle of my room, staring at the slight mess I’d made over the past few days. Clothes were draped over the chair in the corner, some hanging halfway to the floor, and a stack of books leaned precariously on my nightstand. It wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t neat either. Still, cleaning seemed like the best way to keep my mind from spiraling. Anything was better than sitting here and stewing over Isabella and her smug, self-satisfied attitude—or Marco, with his infuriatingly calm demeanor, like nothing in the world could touch him.I grabbed a shirt off the chair and folded it with a little more force than necessary, tucking it into the drawer. The movement was brisk, almost aggressive, but it felt good. At least this, I could control. Folding clothes, organizing, tidying—it was simple and didn’t come with strings attached.“The Isabella situation,” I muttered under my breath as I grabbed another shirt. That’s what I’d been calling it in my head. It sounded clinic
*********Isabella closed the door behind her and let out a long, satisfied sigh. Her eyes scanned the room—the guest room, as they called it—but to her, it was so much more. This wasn’t just a room; it was her victory. A smile spread across her face as she walked toward the bed and sat down, sinking into the plush comforter.“I did it,” she whispered to herself, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. “I finally did it.”She leaned back on her hands, her gaze traveling across the walls and furniture. The room was simple, tasteful, but it lacked her personal touch. That would change soon enough. She wasn’t just a guest anymore; this was her territory now.“Finally,” she said aloud, a giggle escaping her lips. “This house, this life—it’s all coming together. And Sarah…” Her lips curled into a smirk as she thought of the other woman’s reaction earlier. “Poor, sweet Sarah. She hasn’t even seen the half of it yet.”The memory of the DNA test flashed in her mind. The way the doctor had read
SARAHI stormed through the gates, my entire body trembling with fury. The guards, who were always so polite and attentive, straightened as I approached. One of them opened his mouth to speak.“Ma’am, is Mr. Marco—”“Don’t!” I snapped, not even sparing him a glance. My voice was sharp enough to cut steel, and he instantly stepped back, his mouth shutting with a click. I didn’t owe anyone answers, not now, not ever.My heels clattered violently against the driveway as I marched to the house, every step fueled by the storm brewing inside me. I reached the front door, slammed it open with such force that it echoed through the entryway, and stalked straight toward my room.The staff turned to look, their faces filled with confusion and concern. I didn’t care. Let them look. Let them whisper. I was done holding it all together.When I reached my bedroom, I pushed the door open and then slammed it shut behind me, twisting the lock hard enough that it felt like it might break. The click was
SARAHThe moment the doctor uttered those words, my entire world tilted on its axis. I stared at him, frozen in disbelief, his voice ringing in my ears like an unrelenting echo.“The results of the DNA test confirm that Mr Marco is the biological father of the child.”My heartbeat quickened, pounding so hard I could feel it reverberating in my chest. I blinked, my eyes darting between Marco, the doctor, and Isabella, desperately searching for some sign that this was a cruel joke. But there was no humor here—only cold, stark reality.“This… this can’t be true,” I muttered, my voice trembling, barely recognizable. My hands clutched the edge of my chair, my knuckles white. “There has to be some kind of mistake.”The doctor adjusted his glasses, his expression calm but unyielding. “Ms. Sarah, I can assure you that—”“No!” I interrupted, my voice louder, almost desperate. “You must’ve gotten the samples mixed up. You—You have to check again.” I turned to Marco, who sat silent and motionles
SARAHI woke up feeling lighter than I had in days. Today was the day. The day we’d finally be free of Isabella’s twisted games. The DNA results would expose her lies, and Marco and I could finally move forward without her constant manipulations hanging over us like a dark cloud.I got out of bed and headed downstairs, eager to see Marco. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I spotted him near the door, pulling on his jacket. His face was calm, focused, the same determined look he always wore when he was ready to handle something important.“Heading to the hospital?” I asked, a small smile creeping onto my face.Marco glanced at me, his expression softening just slightly. “Yeah. It’s about time we put an end to this.”I couldn’t hide my excitement. “Good. I can’t wait to see the look on Isabella’s face when she’s caught in her own web of lies.”He chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to stress about this, Sarah. It’s not going to be that big a deal. Once the truth comes out,
SARAHI sat alone in the waiting room, tapping my fingers against the armrest of the chair. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, and the sterile white walls did nothing to calm my nerves. I tried to distract myself by looking around—at the posters on the walls about healthy eating, the muted television playing some medical drama, and the occasional nurse or patient walking by—but none of it worked. My thoughts were a mess.Marco had stepped out to speak with the nurse, leaving me here to stew in my own anxiety. I hated waiting like this, not knowing what was happening or what might come next. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my eyes darting toward the door Marco had disappeared through.Then, I heard voices. Faint at first, but as I strained my ears, I realized it was Marco and the nurse talking.“…nothing to worry about,” the nurse was saying.My heart quickened. I leaned slightly in their direction, trying to catch more of their conversation.“Are you sure?” Marco’s voice
SARAHHere’s the expanded scene based on your outline:The ride to the hospital was painfully quiet. Marco had his hands firmly on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as he focused on the road ahead. I sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window, trying to ignore the sound of Isabella wailing in the backseat.“Ohhh, it hurts so much! Marco, please hurry!” Isabella screeched, her voice grating like nails on a chalkboard.I clenched my teeth and looked over at Marco. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a hard line, but he said nothing. Of course, he wouldn’t. He was too busy trying to hold it together.I turned back toward the window, willing myself to stay calm, but it was impossible. Isabella’s dramatic cries filled the car, each one more ridiculous than the last.“Oh, Marco, I think I’m losing consciousness! Please, don’t let me die!”I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “She’s unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.“What was that, Sarah?” Marco asked, hi