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
SARAH The bakery smelled of fresh bread and cinnamon, a comforting aroma that greeted me every morning. I enjoyed the simplicity of our life. Our bakery, though it was small and modest, it was our pride and joy. Papa, had poured his heart and soul into this place, and it was a decent addiction to our community. “Good morning, Mrs. Alvarez! The usual?” I asked, already reaching for a loaf of brown bread. “Good morning, Sarah. Yes, please,” she replied with a warm smile. Handing her the loaf, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. Despite the financial struggles and the countless hours of hard work, I loved every moment spent here. My father and I shared a close bond, working side by side to keep our beloved bakery running. After Mrs. Alvarez left, I returned to kneading dough, humming softly to the tune playing on the radio. My father was in the back, preparing a new batch of new dough. The old Spanish tunes on the radio filled the space with nostalgia, reminding me of my mo
MARCOThe ride back to the estate was silent. My men knew better than to question me right now, not when I was deep in thought. “Sarah..” I muttered to myself. , seeing her action at the bakery, had been an unexpected surprise. I hadn’t planned on her—hadn’t planned on any of this, really. But sometimes, life throws curveballs. I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a moment. Her face flashed before me: bold, fierce, and simply captivating. There was something about her that stirred something wild within me. I loved breaking the wills of stern girls, and Sarah just had “challenge” written all over her. When we finally pulled up to the estate, I got out of the car and motioned for my men to follow me into my office. Once we were all inside, I closed the door and turned to face them. “Change of plans,” I announced, my voice steady. “We’re not touching Santiago. Not yet, anyway.” Tony, my younger brother and second-in-command, looked confused. “But boss, I thought the plan was
SARAHI laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the incident at the bakery. That guy who walked in—yeah, he was undeniably good-looking. The kind of looks that make you glance twice. But, ugh, that cocky attitude. I hated cocky guys. They always thought they could get whatever they wanted just because they flashed a smile or said the right things. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping me out of my thoughts. I grabbed it and saw Nicole’s name flashing. “Hey, crazy girl!” I answered, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. “Hey, Sarah! Guess what tomorrow is?” Nicole’s voice was practically vibrating with excitement. “Hmm, let me think… your birthday?” I teased. “Bingo! And you know what that means—we’re hitting up the biggest club in town to celebrate!” I frowned, feeling a bit skeptical. “A club? You know I’m not really into that scene, Nic.” “Oh, come on! It’s my birthday! We have to do something big. Plus, you need a break. You’ve been all work and no play la
SARAH “You’re insane! You have no idea what you’re talking about!” I screamed, my voice barely audible over the throbbing music in the lounge. The air felt heavy with smoke and sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest. Marco’s smug expression didn’t waver. “You’ll see, Sarah. You’ll come around.” I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him for another second. I spun around and pushed through the crowd. As I reached the door, Marcel stepped in front of me, concern written all over his face. “Hey, you alright?” I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak without breaking down. “I need to go,” I muttered, trying to sidestep him. “Sarah, what happened?” Marcel persisted, his brow furrowed. “I just… I need to leave,” I repeated, brushing past him. My steps quickened as I made my way through the club, the pulsating music and flashing lights becoming too much to bear. I felt like I was suffocating. I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to Nicole: “Had to leave. Don’t worry abo
SARAH I was blindfolded, my hands bound in front of me as the car bumped along a rough road. My heart raced, the sound of the tyres on gravel filling my ears. Where were they taking me? My mind swirled with fear. I tried to calm myself, but the darkness only made my thoughts more terrifying. Had they found out about our plan to run away? My mind raced with fear and regret. What if something had happened to my father? My heart ached at the thought of him, alone and worried. I strained to hear the men’s conversation, hoping to catch a clue about my fate or my father’s safety. “You think the boss will go easy on her?” one of the men asked, his voice rough and casual like he was discussing the weather. “Hell no,” another replied with a chuckle. “You saw how pissed he was. She’s lucky if she gets out of this without a few broken bones.” My stomach churned at their words. My father’s face flashed in my mind, his kind eyes filled with worry and fear. Had they already gotten to him? W
SARAH The car ride was quiet, except for the hum of the engine and the occasional groan from my father. Marco had instructed his men to take us home, but not before stopping at a clinic to get my father’s injuries cleaned up. I sat by the car window, the cool night air on my face, trying to process everything that had happened. Marco’s threats echoed in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last. I fought back tears, not wanting to show any more weakness. My father needed me to be strong right now, even if I felt like I was falling apart inside. When we arrived at the clinic, they led us inside. The place was small and discreet, perfect for keeping things under the radar. A doctor came out, took one look at my father, and quickly set to work. I watched as he cleaned and bandaged my father’s wounds, my heart breaking at the sight. I felt so helpless, caught in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. After what felt like an eternity, we were back in the car, heading home. I sta
I sat silently in the car, the sound of the engine blending with my thoughts. The road stretched out before us, flanked by tall trees and rolling fields. The scenery passed in a blur, but I tried to focus on it, anything to distract myself from the dread forming in my stomach. The ride began to slow, and I looked up, startled. We approached a pretty, ornate gate. The driver honked, and the gate swung open smoothly. We drove in, and I felt a lump form in my throat. As the car came to a stop, Martha and Anne got out first, their heels clicking on the gravel. I followed, my legs feeling shaky. The compound was stunning—manicured lawns, pretty flowers, and a grand mansion at the center. It was the kind of place I’d only seen in magazines, the kind of place that spoke of power and wealth. I forced myself to look away, to not be taken in by the allure. “Stop it”, I told myself. This isn’t beautiful. It’s a prison. Marco’s prison. My mind raced, chastising myself for even finding a f
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