Two of Xavier's men dragged Selena down a long, dim hallway. Her legs hurt from sitting tied to that chair for so long. The concrete floor was cold against her bare feet. They had taken her shoes days ago. Small mercies—at least they'd let her keep the rest of her clothes. The air grew cooler as they went deeper underground. Selena could smell dirt and mold. This was a different place than where Xavier had kept her before. Bigger. Hidden. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice rough from screaming earlier. The men said nothing. One just pushed her forward harder. At the end of the hall, they stopped at a metal door. One man pulled out a key and unlocked it. The door creaked as it opened. They shoved her inside. "Xavier wants you to think about what we talked about," one of the men said. "He'll be back." The door slammed shut behind her. The sound of the lock clicking felt final. Selena stood in the center of the small room, her eyes slowly getting used to the dark. There wa
The heavy metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the small cell. Xavier had stormed out, a vein throbbing dangerously at his temple. Jordan's words had hit their mark. The metal door slammed shut with a hollow clang that echoed through the small cell. Xavier had stormed out, the vein in his temple pulsing visibly after Jordan's final insult. Santiago had followed like a faithful shadow, leaving Selena alone with Jordan. For a long moment, the only sound was Jordan's labored breathing. The dim light filtering through the tiny window cast harsh shadows across his battered face. Selena approached him cautiously. "Let me look at those cuts," she said, reaching toward the gash above his swollen eye. Jordan jerked away from her touch, wincing as pain shot through his ribs. "Don't fucking touch me," he spat. Blood sprayed from his split lip with each word. "You need help," Selena insisted, her voice soft but firm. "Not from you." Jordan's one good eye fixed on her with undi
Selena's fingers traced the ragged edge of her torn dress, her breath catching in her throat. The tiny cell felt like it was closing in around her, suffocating her with memories she'd fought so hard to bury.Jordan watched her, his bruised face a map of pain and anger. One eye swollen shut, the other drilling into her with an intensity that made her want to look away."Why?" he asked again. Just one word. But it carried the weight of years of secrets.She laughed—a hollow, broken sound that bounced off the concrete walls. "Because I was afraid," she whispered."Afraid of what?" Jordan shifted, wincing as pain shot through his battered body.Selena’s breath came in shallow gasps. She pressed her back against the cold wall, her nails digging into her palms. "I was afraid of the life Victor lived," she said softly. "The danger. The darkness. I wanted something different for my son."Jordan snorted. "So you ran?"Selena’s hands clenched into fists. "You don’t get it." Her voice was sharpe
Miguel was so close.The pier was just ahead, the scent of saltwater thick in the air. His small fingers clutched the navigation device, the red dot blinking steadily, urging him forward. Mr. Growls was tucked tightly under his arm, the only comfort in this strange and terrifying night.He could see the boats now—rocking gently in the dark water, their lights flickering like tiny stars. His heart pounded with hope. Maybe Roberto’s sister was already there. Maybe she would take him somewhere safe, somewhere far away from the bad men.But his legs hurt. Every step felt heavier. His stomach twisted with hunger, and his throat was dry. He had been brave for so long, but exhaustion was creeping in. He just had to make it a little farther.Then, everything went wrong.A pair of headlights flared to life behind him, flooding the narrow street with light. The deep roar of an engine cut through the night air. Miguel turned, squinting against the brightness, and his heart stopped.A black SUV.
The room was silent.Not the kind of silence that came with peace. No, this was the kind of silence that made men hold their breath, that made them hesitate before stepping closer.The kind of silence that came before bloodshed.Victor sat at his desk, phone still clutched in his hand, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. The video had ended, but the image of Miguel—his son—bound to that chair, his tear-streaked face, his trembling voice asking for his mother—was burned into Victor’s mind.His jaw clenched so hard it felt like his teeth might crack.Then, without warning—CRASH.The whiskey bottle that had been sitting untouched on his desk exploded against the far wall, shards of glass scattering across the floor, amber liquid dripping down like blood.Maria flinched from where she stood near the door, but she didn’t move. She had seen Victor angry before. Furious, even.But this?This was something else.Gerald was the only one who dared to step forward. "Victor—""Get eve
Maria hadn’t stopped moving since they received the intel.The warehouse buzzed with tension, a storm of controlled chaos. Men checked weapons, strapped on bulletproof vests, and loaded magazines with sharp, practiced motions. The scent of gun oil and sweat thickened the air. Conversations were low, clipped, the occasional snap of a safety being turned off cutting through the hum of voices.But Maria barely noticed.She moved through it all like a machine, eyes scanning over blueprints, fingers tapping against the rough paper as she traced potential escape routes. Her mind ran through every worst-case scenario, every possible outcome, calculating and recalculating. She had to be ready for anything.Because if she stopped—if she let herself think for even a second—she might break.And she couldn’t afford that.Across the room, she felt the weight of Gerald’s stare. He had been watching her for the last hour, waiting. Studying. She could feel the concern radiating off him, but she ignor
The office was a disaster.Shattered glass crunched under Gerald’s boots as he stepped inside. The once-pristine liquor cabinet was in ruins, the scent of spilled whiskey thick in the air. Chairs were overturned, papers scattered across the floor. A broken lamp lay in the corner, its bulb flickering weakly.But the real storm wasn’t in the destruction.It stood by the window, silent and still, staring down at the city below.Victor.His back was rigid, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He had barely spoken since receiving the video of Miguel. The room had taken the brunt of his rage, but Gerald knew that wasn’t enough.Not for Victor.Not when his son was out there.Gerald shut the door behind him, the soft click breaking the heavy silence.“Say something,” he said, keeping his voice steady.Victor didn’t turn. His reflection in the glass was unreadable, the city lights casting sharp angles across his face.“We leave in an hour,” he said finally, his tone as cold as st
The night was alive with war. Gunfire cracked through the air, each shot was like a drumbeat in the chaos. The sharp scent of burning metal, gunpowder, and blood filled the wind, thick and suffocating. Smoke curled into the sky, rising from the compound’s walls like a warning of what was coming. Victor stood at the front, his cold eyes locked on Xavier’s fortress. There was no hesitation or fear in his eyes. Only one thing mattered—ending this war. His grip on his rifle tightened. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore. His son. Jordan. If he was still alive… Victor was getting him out. And Selena. His jaw clenched at the thought. If she was alive, he’d find her. But she wasn’t his priority. Not now. He forced the thought away, but it lingered, heavy in his chest. His men stood behind him, ready and tense trained killers, all waiting for his command. “Move in,” Victor ordered, his voice calm and controlled. His army surged forward, silent but deadly, their boots crunching agains
Victor sat alone in his study, the lights off, only the moon casting silver shadows across the room. Selena's diary lay open on his desk, her words like ghosts haunting the space between heartbeats.He reached for his glass of whiskey, but his hand shook so badly that it slipped from his fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor. Just like everything else in his life—broken, sharp, dangerous to touch.Five years of hatred. Five years of plotting revenge against Xavier, believing Selena had willingly betrayed him. All while she had been protecting their son, enduring God knows what horrors to keep Miguel safe."I didn't know," he whispered to the empty room, his voice cracking. "I didn't know."Something hot and wet slid down his cheek. Victor touched it, surprised. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried. Not when his mother died. Not when he was sent to prison. Not even when he believed Selena had chosen his enemy over him.But now, alone in the dark, the tears came like
Miguel's question echoed in Victor's mind long after he'd tucked his son into bed. Don't you want Mommy to come home? The truth was, Victor didn't know what he wanted anymore. For five years, anger had been his compass, pointing him forward when nothing else could. But now that compass was spinning wildly, unable to find true north. The next morning, after checking on Miguel who was still sleeping with the gold locket clutched in his small fist, Victor found himself standing in the doorway of Selena's empty room. He hadn't been inside since she left. Hadn't wanted to. Now he stepped in, the door clicking shut behind him. The space still smelled faintly of her jasmine perfume. Victor ran his fingers along the dresser top, expecting dust, but the servants had kept the room cleaned. As if expecting her return. He opened a drawer, not sure what he was looking for. Empty. She had taken almost everything, leaving behind only what she had arrived with—nothing. In the closet, a s
The morning sun filtered through Miguel's curtains, painting warm shapes on his bedroom floor. His eyes fluttered open, small fists rubbing away sleep. For one peaceful moment, everything was normal.Then he remembered yesterday's adventure with Mommy. Her extra tight hugs. The way she kept touching his face like she was trying to remember every little part of him."Mommy?" he called, climbing out of bed.When no answer came, Miguel padded down the hallway in his dinosaur pajamas, his small feet silent against the marble floor. He pushed open the door to his mother's room.Empty.The bed was made, perfect and untouched. No clothes in the closet. No brush on the dresser. Nothing to show his mother had ever been there at all.A cold feeling spread through Miguel's chest. He ran to the kitchen, to the garden, to all their special places."Mommy?" His voice grew more frantic with each call.He found his father in the study, talking in a low voice with Gerald."Where's Mommy?" Miguel deman
Selena traced her finger along the small apartment's living room window. It wasn't much—two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, plain walls that needed painting. But it was hers. A place Xavier had never known about. A place Victor couldn't find.She signed the lease with shaking hands."You can move in next week," the landlord told her, handing over the keys.Next week. Seven days to say goodbye to her son.The drive back to Victor's mansion felt endless. Each mile bringing her closer to the hardest decision of her life. But there was no other way. Miguel needed peace. He needed his father. And Victor would never heal with her there, a constant reminder of betrayal and lost years.The next morning, Selena woke Miguel with kisses on his forehead."Let's have an adventure today, just you and me," she whispered.Miguel's sleepy eyes brightened. "What kind of adventure?""A special one. Our secret."She dressed him in his favorite blue shirt and packed a small backpack with snacks and his toy bear
The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of monitors. Maria sat beside Jordan's bed, her fingers gently wrapped around his limp hand. Four days had passed, and still he hadn't opened his eyes."You know," Maria whispered, thinking he couldn't hear her, "I never told you this, but that night in Barcelona... when you took that bullet for me?" She swallowed hard. "That's when I knew."She traced the outline of his bruised knuckles. "I've spent so long pushing people away. Especially you. God, I was so stupid."A tear slipped down her cheek. "Just wake up, Jordan. Wake up so I can tell you that I-""That you what?"Maria froze. Jordan's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but his eyes were open—those familiar blue eyes watching her with a hint of their usual mischief."You jerk!" Maria gasped, nearly knocking over her chair as she jumped up. "How long have you been awake?"Jordan's split lip curved into a painful smile. "Long enough to hear you being all mushy. Didn
Maria's fingers trembled as she held Jordan's limp hand. The steady beep of hospital machines filled the sterile room. She hadn't left his side in three days. "You idiot," she whispered, her thumb tracing circles on his bruised knuckles. "You just had to play the hero." Jordan lay still, his face swollen and discolored. Tubes ran into his arms. A breathing mask covered his nose and mouth. The doctors had been clear—his chances weren't good. Broken ribs. Internal bleeding. Severe dehydration. His body had finally given out the moment they'd reached safety. Maria closed her eyes, the memory washing over her again. That second kiss. The way his arms had wrapped around her, pulling her close like she was his anchor in a storm. Then his eyes rolling back, his body crumpling to the ground. "Don't you dare die on me," she said. "Not after everything." A knock on the door made her look up. Gerald stood there, his side bandaged beneath his shirt. "How's our boy?" he asked, moving slowly i
"No! Mommy! NO!"The scream tore through the quiet mansion, jolting Victor from sleep. He was moving before his mind fully registered what was happening, feet hitting the cold floor as he ran toward his son's room.Miguel was thrashing in bed, tears streaming down his small face, fighting some invisible enemy in his dreams."Miguel." Victor sat on the edge of the bed, gathering the boy into his arms. "Wake up, mijo. It's just a dream."Miguel's eyes flew open, wild with terror. For a moment, he didn't seem to recognize Victor."You're safe," Victor murmured, rubbing small circles on the boy's back. "No one can hurt you here."Miguel's small body was hot with fear, his heart racing against Victor's chest. "The bad men were taking Mommy away again," he whispered.Victor closed his eyes, feeling his son's pain like a physical thing. "Your mommy is safe too. She's just down the hall.""Can I see her?" Miguel pleaded, his voice small and lost.Victor hesitated. It was past midnight. The ru
The helicopter blades slowed as they landed at Victor's estate. The night had been long. Too long. Bodies had been cleaned up, loose ends tied, and wounds patched. Victor carried a sleeping Miguel in his arms, the boy's small head resting against his shoulder. Each breath from his son felt like a miracle—a child he hadn't known existed just weeks ago. Behind him, Selena limped up the marble steps of the mansion, her face still bearing the marks of Xavier's cruelty. Thomas helped her walk, his own shoulder bandaged where the bullet had torn through. "Put her in the east wing," Victor told Gerald without looking at Selena. "She'll have everything she needs there." Something flashed across Selena's face—pain, understanding, resignation. She said nothing as Gerald led her away, her eyes lingering on Miguel's sleeping form. Victor stood in the grand foyer, his son in his arms, watching her disappear down the hallway. The space between them felt like miles. --- Three days passed in st
The sudden patter of small footsteps made everyone freeze. A tiny figure appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.Miguel stood there clutching his teddy bear, Mr. Growls, to his chest. His small face crumpled at the sight before him—blood, guns, and the adults who were supposed to keep him safe all looking broken and desperate."Mommy?" His voice was small and scared when he noticed his mom being held at gunpoint.Selena's face drained of color. "Miguel! No!" she whispered.Xavier's attention snapped to the boy, his eyes lighting up with sudden calculation. The gun in his hand wavered, then slowly turned toward the child."Come here, boy," Xavier called, his voice honey-sweet despite the madness in his eyes.Victor noticed the shift, saw the way Xavier's body language changed. For all his cruelty, Xavier must have grown fond of the boy who had once called him uncle. It was there in the slight softening around his eyes, the hesitation in his trigger finger.Migue