SARAHI stepped out of Marco’s hospital room, my mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of everything. How was I supposed to feel about Marco telling me he loved me? It wasn’t like I’d been expecting it, not in a million years. And yet, when he said it, there was a part of me—a small, traitorous part—that liked hearing those words from him.But I hated that I felt that way. Marco literally abducted me, pulled me into his dangerous world without a second thought. He was reckless, controlling, and had caused me more pain than I cared to admit. How could I possibly feel anything for him other than anger and resentment?And yet… there it was. That stupid, fluttering feeling in my chest that made me want to believe him. To believe that maybe, just maybe, he did love me. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? How could I ever trust him, let alone allow myself to care for him? It didn’t make sense, and the conflic
SARAHA soft tap on my shoulder pulled me out of a dreamless sleep. At first, I thought I imagined it, but then it came again, more insistent this time. I blinked my eyes open, feeling disoriented and groggy. My body ached as if I had run a marathon, and my head throbbed with a dull pain that made it hard to focus. When my vision finally cleared, I saw Carlos standing in front of me, his expression a mix of concern and impatience.“Sarah,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “how are you feeling?”I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “I’m fine… just a headache and… I guess I’m a little out of it.” My voice came out hoarse, and I realized how dry my throat was.Carlos handed me a bottle of water. “Here, drink this. You need to stay hydrated after everything.”I took the bottle from him and sipped slowly, letting the cool water soothe my dry throat. As I drank, the events of the past few hours came rushing back—the blood donation, Marco’s condition, the whirlwind
SARAHI had tried everything—reasoning with him, pleading, even resorting to silent treatment—but nothing worked. Marco was as stubborn as ever, determined to leave the hospital against all logic. Hours had passed, and I’d eventually given up. There was no point in trying to convince him anymore. The man was impossible.I sat in a chair by the window, staring blankly outside, lost in my thoughts. The steady rhythm of the hospital’s machinery hummed in the background, a constant reminder that we were still in this sterile, suffocating place. But Marco didn’t seem to notice. He was focused on something else entirely—something I couldn’t quite understand.My mind kept drifting back to the conversation we had earlier. His determination to leave, the way he had dismissed my concerns, and that strange, serious look in his eyes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something, something important. But what could it be? What was so urgent that he couldn’t stay here and recover like
SARAHI pulled away from the kiss slowly, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest that I was sure Marco could hear it. My face was on fire, and I could feel the heat spreading down to my neck. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react. All I could do was stare at him for a moment, his gaze still locked on mine, his expression unreadable.“I… I should go check the temperature of the water,” I stammered, grasping at the first excuse that popped into my head. It was ridiculous, but it was the only thing I could think of to break the tension. Without waiting for his response, I scrambled off the bed and practically fled to the bathroom.Once inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. My reflection in the mirror caught my eye, and I stared at myself, my cheeks still flushed, my lips slightly swollen from the kiss. What the heck just happened? I reached for the faucet, turning on the cold water and splashing some on my face, hoping it wou
SARAHAs I lay in the tub, the heat of the water trying to coax the tension out of my body, my mind kept circling back to that text. Marcel. Just when I thought I could finally breathe, he had to resurface and bring all the chaos back with him.What did he mean by that message? “I’ll be back for you, Sarah. I swear it.” The words echoed in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine despite the warmth that surrounded me. Was it a threat? A warning? I couldn’t tell. But what I did know was that Marcel was a man who rarely made empty promises.I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning in circles. Why now? Why, when I was finally starting to feel some semblance of normalcy in my life, did he have to crawl out of whatever dark corner he’d been hiding in and try to drag me back into his twisted world? For once, I was beginning to feel like things were falling into place, like maybe—just maybe—I could find some peace. But that hope was quickly slipping through my fingers, replaced by the fa
SARAHAs soon as I saw Marco wobbling on the stairs, my heart leaped into my throat. Without thinking, I sprinted toward him, my feet barely touching the ground. I reached him just in time, catching his arm as he teetered dangerously close to falling.“Marco!” I gasped, gripping him tightly, my breath coming in short, frantic bursts. “This is exactly what I was trying to avoid! You’re going to hurt yourself!”He looked down at me, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “I’m fine, Sarah. Just lost my balance for a second.”“Lost your balance?” I echoed, my voice rising in disbelief. “You almost fell down the stairs!”I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the adrenaline still coursing through me. I couldn’t believe he was being so reckless, so stubborn. He knew better than to push himself like this, especially when he was still recovering.Instead of apologizing, though, he gave me that infuriating smile of his—the one that made my insides twist in the most confusing ways
The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur. After that moment in the dining room, I found myself lost in a routine of cleaning, organizing, and fixing things around the house. I spent most of the afternoon in the living room, straightening up and adding a few finishing touches here and there. I couldn’t help but laugh a little at myself, realizing how much I was behaving like a traditional wife, tidying up and making sure everything was just right.The thought brought a small smile to my face, but it quickly faded as memories of everything Marco had put me through surfaced. The lies, the betrayals, the moments when I felt like my heart was being torn in two. It was hard to reconcile the man who had hurt me so deeply with the one who had begged for my cooking earlier today, flashing that charming smile as if nothing had ever gone wrong between us.I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. There was no point in dwelling on the past, not when I was trying to move forward. Bu
MARCO Carlos closed the door behind him, and I settled into my chair, facing both Tony and Carlos. The room was thick with an awkward silence, the kind that makes you painfully aware of every small noise. I cleared my throat, trying to break the tension.“So, Tony,” I began, forcing a casual tone into my voice, “how was your time at the hospital?”Tony leaned back, letting out a low groan. “Hell. Absolute hell,” he replied, his voice laced with exhaustion.I tried to lighten the mood, offering a half-smile. “Well, at least you’re out now. That’s something.”Tony smirked, but there was a bitterness to it. “Yeah, and I even managed to get the number of one of those sexy nurses. Not a total waste of time, right?”Carlos and I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound cutting through the heavy atmosphere in the room. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” I said, grinning at him.Tony shrugged, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What else is there to lose, Marco? My legs don’t w
SARAHThe tension in the dining room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I sat across from Isabella, my fork idly moving the food on my plate. She seemed distracted, her gaze darting between her plate and the glass of water by her side. Marco’s absence was both a blessing and a curse. It gave me the perfect opportunity to speak freely, but it also meant I had no buffer if things went south.I cleared my throat softly and leaned forward, trying to sound casual. “So,” I started, breaking the silence, “how have you been feeling lately? You’ve been keeping to yourself a lot. I hope everything’s okay.”Isabella looked up, her expression unreadable at first. She gave me a small, polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve been fine. Just… busy with errands, you know. There’s always something to take care of.”I nodded, keeping my tone light. “I can imagine. Especially with the baby on the way. How’s your health? Have you been keeping up with your appointments?”Her smile fa
ROSALIEThe maids helped me out of the limo, their hands gentle yet firm as though I might collapse at any moment. I felt as if my body were moving on autopilot, my feet touching the ground but not quite connecting. My eyes lifted to the cathedral before me, its towering spires stretching high into the grey morning sky. The cold stone façade looked more like a prison than a place of sanctity, its heavy doors open wide, inviting me into my fate.The weight in my chest doubled. I swallowed hard, trying to steady the trembling in my hands. The air was cool, yet I felt a bead of sweat trail down my back. Each step toward the entrance felt like a step closer to the end of everything I had ever imagined for myself.Inside, the air was thick with a heavy solemnity. Rows upon rows of unfamiliar faces turned toward me, their curious gazes piercing through my carefully constructed mask. Strangers, all of them. Not a single face offered the comfort of recognition.The decorations were stunning,
THIRD PERSONTony paced back and forth in the dimly lit living room, the glow of his phone screen casting sharp shadows across his face. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic click of his shoes against the hardwood floor and the occasional buzz of his phone as he redialed the same number for the third time.“Come on, pick up,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at the clock on the wall. His patience was wearing thin, but his determination remained intact. This was too important to let slide.Finally, the call connected, and a gruff voice on the other end answered. “Tony. Got some updates for you.”Tony stopped pacing and stood still, his focus sharpening instantly. “Yeah? What do you have?”“The guy you’re after—Victor,” the man began, his tone measured but sure. “We’ve got a handle on him. Been tracking his daily routine for a few days now. Turns out, he’s not exactly living like your average lab tech.”Tony raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”“Word is, he’s recently come
SARAHShowing up at the hospital to investigate felt unreal. I couldn’t shake the irony of it all—hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, sanctuaries of truth, where people put their trust in tests and results. Yet here I was, convinced that something as crucial as Marco’s DNA test had been tampered with, and the trail of deception had led me straight to the doors of this institution.Every step toward the entrance felt heavy, like I was dragging the weight of my doubts and fears behind me. This wasn’t just about Marco or Isabella anymore. It was about the truth, about justice. If someone had tampered with his test results, they had played with his life—and mine.Tony walked beside me, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, his expression neutral but sharp. He always had this way of staying calm, of making me feel like we weren’t walking into the lion’s den. But I couldn’t help the nerves twisting in my stomach.“This is a big risk,” I muttered, breaking th
SARAHI couldn’t shake the unease in my chest, the gnawing sensation that something sinister was at play. Those messages I’d found on Isabella’s phone were like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit. Marcel—the same man who had nearly killed Marco—was texting her. Why? What was the plan? I’d spent the better part of the day wracking my brain, going over every possible scenario, but none of my conclusions gave me any comfort.Was she working with Marcel? Was this about money? Revenge? Control? My thoughts circled back to the vague instructions in those texts—keeping Marco distracted, causing turmoil. But to what end? And why was Isabella still here, moving through this house like she belonged, when every fiber of my being screamed that she didn’t?I sighed heavily, putting down the crochet hook I’d been using to try to calm my nerves. The yarn sat limp in my lap, a testament to how little I’d managed to accomplish. I wasn’t going to get anywhere sitting here and stewing in my own thoughts
SARAHThe rhythmic motion of my hands moving the crochet hook through the yarn was oddly soothing. It was one of the few things that could keep my mind calm these days. I sat on the living room couch, determined to finish the little blanket I’d started weeks ago. The soft, repetitive motion allowed me to focus on something other than the chaos that had become my life.Across the room, Isabella was lounging on another couch, scrolling through her phone. She hadn’t said a word to me since she’d entered the room, and I wasn’t about to start a conversation. The silence between us was sharp, almost suffocating, but I preferred it over whatever fake kindness she’d try to throw my way. I kept my eyes fixed on my work, ignoring her presence entirely.Every now and then, I’d hear her let out a soft laugh or the click of her nails tapping against the phone screen. It was infuriating how comfortable she seemed, sitting there like she owned the place. I tightened my grip on the yarn, forcing myse
MARCO I sat at my desk, my eyes fixed on the ledger before me. The columns of numbers blurred into one another, mocking me with their impenetrable logic. No matter how hard I tried to focus, to force my mind into the calm precision I was known for, it felt like grasping at smoke. The harder I tried, the more elusive it became. I leaned back in my chair with a sharp sigh, running a hand through my hair. The scattered papers, the quiet hum of the office—it all felt like a testament to my failure. I’d been sitting here for hours, pretending to work, trying to keep my mind from going where it always went. But nothing worked. The numbers refused to make sense, and my thoughts refused to stay in line. This wasn’t me. I was always in control. Always sharp. But lately, it felt like control had slipped through my fingers. Like the more I tried to hold onto it, the faster it unraveled. I hated the feeling. Hated that I couldn’t snap my fingers and make it all go away. I pushed back my ch
SARAH“Where did you find my bracelet?” I snapped, my voice louder than I intended, trembling with the anger that had been bubbling inside me all day. My gaze locked onto the bracelet on Isabella’s wrist—a charm bracelet I could never mistake. My bracelet. The one I had been searching for like a lunatic all morning, tearing through every corner of the house only to find it here, now, dangling mockingly from her wrist.Isabella’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile, as if my frustration amused her. “Sarah,” she said softly, in a tone so calm it only fueled my fury, “there’s no need to get so worked up. It’s just a bracelet.”“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I spat, my chair scraping loudly against the floor as I shot to my feet. The sharp sound echoed in the room, but I didn’t care. My anger had its own momentum now, unstoppable. “Where the fuck did you find it? I’ve been looking for it all day, tearing this place apart, and now it’s just c
SARAHBy the time dinner rolled around, I felt more settled. The small victories of the day—reorganizing the spaces Isabella had claimed and setting some quiet boundaries with Martha—gave me a sense of control I hadn’t felt in weeks. It was almost laughable how reclaiming a few drawers and shelves could make me feel so accomplished, but after days of feeling like I was drowning in chaos, I would take every win I could get.As I made my way downstairs, I mentally ticked off everything I had rearranged earlier. The bookshelf in the living room? Back to its original setup. The vase Isabella had moved to the coffee table? Returned to its rightful place on the mantle. Even the pantry had been sorted, with labels that made sense to me instead of her haphazard system. Nothing seemed out of place. Good.When I entered the dining room, the familiar, comforting scent of roasted vegetables and seasoned chicken greeted me. My dinner was already set on the table, just like always. Martha, ever tho