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
SARAHI sat in the living room, the sound of the ticking clock filling the silence around me as I focused on the knitting needles in my hands. It had been weeks since Marco’s incident, weeks since I’d taken care of him when he was so weak and vulnerable, his defenses stripped away by pain and exhaustion. It had been a strange time, seeing him like that. A side of Marco I’d never seen before, and one I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.I sighed, the yarn slipping through my fingers as I thought about how different he was now. Back then, when he could barely stand, when he needed me for every little thing, he was softer. Almost… kind. And for a moment, I’d almost believed that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, hard man I’d known him to be.But now? Now he was back to being an asshole. The same arrogant, stubborn man who barked orders and expected everyone to fall in line. The same man who looked at me with that infuriating smirk, who uttered things like, “I love you,
SARAHI sat there, still clutching the phone, my mind reeling from the conversation I’d just had with my dad. His words echoed in my head, each one tugging at the strings of my heart, wrapping me in a blanket of guilt and sorrow. How had things gotten so bad for him? How had I let it get this far without knowing, without helping? The man who had always been my rock was now crumbling, and I felt powerless to do anything about it.I tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating. I could see his face in my mind, the way it must have looked when he told me he was broke, sick, and barely surviving. It broke me, knowing that I hadn’t been there for him, that I hadn’t noticed how much he was struggling. He had always been so strong, so capable, and now… now he was asking me for help. I could still hear the pain in his voice, the desperation that he tried so hard to hide.My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, the pressure building
SARAHI sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady the anxious flutter in my chest. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one thing was clear—this was something I had to do. My father’s well-being was on the line, and I couldn’t afford to back down now. I had to ask Marco for the money, even though the mere thought of it made my stomach churn.“You can do this,” I whispered to myself, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s for Dad. You have to be strong.”I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand. My legs felt like lead as I walked over to the closet, grabbing a light jacket to throw over my shoulders. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror again—my face pale, eyes wide with nerves. I looked like I was about to face a firing squad.“Don’t be scared,” I murmured, trying to convince myself. “Marco’s not a monster. He’s… he’s just Marco. You’ve handled him before. You can do it again.”I wasn’t sure if I believed my own words, but I didn’t hav
SARAHAfter the exhausting day I’d had, I was ready to finally let my mind shut off. I slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, and let out a long, tired sigh. The events of the day replayed in my head—my failure to ask Marco for the money, overhearing that strange conversation about Uncle Danzo, the frustration and anxiety that clung to me like a second skin. I just wanted it all to go away, even if only for a few hours of sleep.Just as I was about to close my eyes, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The sudden sound made my heart skip a beat, and I quickly reached over to grab it, hoping it wasn’t some late-night emergency. When I saw the name on the screen, though, my heart sank.Dad.I stared at the phone, feeling a wave of guilt and dread wash over me. I knew why he was calling. I’d been putting this off for days now, trying to come up with a way to tell him I didn’t have the money yet. But now, there was no more avoiding it. I had to answer.Taking a deep breath, I s
SARAHI leaned against the wall just outside Marco’s room, trying to calm my racing heart. My legs felt like jelly, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. What the hell was I thinking? Why did I always mess things up like this? I had barely even said two words to him before I panicked and ran.Before I could turn and make a full retreat back to my room, I heard his voice call out.“You planning on staring from all the way over there?” Marco’s voice cut through the silence, snapping me out of my thoughts. His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was an edge of amusement in it. I glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, his hand resting casually on the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on me.My face flushed red. I must’ve looked ridiculous, standing out here like some awkward schoolgirl. I swallowed, forcing myself to move. My feet felt heavy as I stepped inside his room, keeping my eyes averted. He was still shirtless, and I didn’t trust myself to look at him without turning into a blushing m
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