- "If I were enough, you wouldn't be treating me like a business. I'm worth more than a piece of paper, Banks."- "I never disagreed. The point is that you ignore all the security that a contract guarantees us"- "The assurance that you will be free to replace me at any time? No thanks, I'll pass."The exchange of glances was intense, but very comfortable and peaceful. It was as if they found in each other a peace they had never had before. Blair knew Ethan was a broken person. A broken heart recognized another.- "Angel, I can't give in on every aspect." Ethan slid his fingers through Blair's hair again, using the movement as a subterfuge to continue touching her.- "You don't have to give in. There are women like Mariah Donovan who would use their tongues to clean the floor under their feet. You don't need my signature." Those words were bitter on Blair's tongue, but they were still true.- "You are wrong"- "You like the challenge, Ethan. You like knowing that there's someone out t
- "Rivera, I'll only say this once. For every act, there is a consequence. If you don't help me, I can't help you. So don't make my work in vain and give me what I came for," she bluffed.- "That's not how police officers usually act"- "I never said I was a cop"- "So you're with them"Blair thought about what those words could mean, and couldn't understand half of them. Them; Ethan, Spencer, someone else? The redhead couldn't tell, and she didn't have the privilege of asking. To this man, she had to show that she knew everything.And then, just as Blair prepared to mutter her next lie, the bathroom doorknob turned, but the door was locked from the outside. She glanced at the carved wooden door, and then looked at Rivera, understanding that he had a lot to hide.- "Daddy?" a sweet, feminine voice sounded, somewhat scared.- "Just a minute, dear. I'm still busy," the man replied the next second.It was then that Blair understood the mystery. Rivera was hiding in that luxury hotel, in
- "You're going to live with her"- "Does she want me?" I ask.I once heard a girl say that no one wants abandoned children. We only have one family, and when we lose that, we don't get a new home. Only very lucky people get new homes. I didn't quite understand, but I think she meant that we stay here because other families are too busy taking care of their children.- "Yes, Blair. She wants to take care of you."Amelita reaches out her hand to me, and I can accept it. She's nice to me, unlike many other people. Well, I've never said it before, but I don't like nurses for this very reason. When my mother was in the hospital, the doctors took care of her, and they were nice to me. But the nurses weren't, they were never nice to me.We walk out of the room. The house is big and very dark, it looks like it has been abandoned for a long time. Even with the laughter of the children in the garden, the house still looks gloomy. This is not a happy place, not like the place where Mommy is.In
Deep down, she didn't want to talk about Banks anymore. He was someone who was both too close and too distant. Sometimes they felt like the closest people in the world. Other times, they felt like strangers.- "She called me, and the conversation was promising. I need to go back to Las Vegas, then I'll know if we have a future together."With Drake's response, the conversation continued smoothly, on a path that was comfortable for Blair. They continued talking until they reached Jean's car. Various topics, superficial conversations and light smiles. These were the aspects that defined the friendship between Drake and Blair very well.*People don't know what loneliness means until they feel it. The empty feeling that no soul in the world is compatible with yours. The fear of not finding someone else, another feeling, another moment. The desire to be better, the inability to change.Ethan felt like he was in the middle of a desert, even surrounded by crowds. The words of affection didn
It was an ordinary dawn in the city of angels. The streets never fell asleep, the lights were never turned off, and the sounds never fell silent.Blair sat amidst the white sheets of her bed, still working. Even though she was away from the office, she liked to keep up with her commitments. In this luxurious hotel room, she was alone, bathed in the incessant lights of downtown. Jean always made a point of reserving the best rooms for her daughter.She heard repeated knocks on the door, and found it strange at first. It was late for room service, and she wasn't expecting Drake. They would see each other the next day, on the boarding runway.Blair got out of bed and walked to the door. She didn't bother putting on a robe over the red nightgown she was wearing, even though the fabric barely covered her legs. When she opened the door, the redhead found a uniformed woman carrying a tray. Although unexpected, it was room service.- "Good evening, Miss Collins. Your father has sent you a cup
- "I need you in a red bikini"- "I like you drunk. At least we're more than friends when alcohol runs through your veins."- "Don't exaggerate. I'll remember this conversation." Ethan smirked.The truth was, neither of them knew for sure if this moment would still make sense in the morning. Blair was afraid that the sun would kill the magic that the night had carried away. Because every other time, Ethan had seemed like a different person when he woke up. It seemed like he regretted giving in, regretting doing more than he was used to.- "I doubt it"- "You bet, Angel. We're going to Malibu next weekend. Buy a red bikini, no strings."Ethan owned many properties. Some had belonged to his father and had been transferred to him when he took over the helm of Enterprise Banks. But there was one house in particular that he didn’t see as just a piece of real estate. It was like a home, or something. Like the cave that had sheltered him when the world was too cruel. This property was locate
- "Maybe dinner, so you don't think I'm a complete jerk."With that answer, she was sure that he didn't remember the promises, the words full of feeling and the sincere looks. It was a typical effect of alcohol, not something he wanted.- "That would be... lovely"When the man removed the hand covering his eyes, it was only to stand up. Ethan took off the leather jacket he had been wearing since last night and left it on the bed. His clothes were disheveled, as was his hair, and it made him look even more attractive than usual.- "I'm going to wash my face, and then I'll leave you alone."Blair turned to face Ethan. He was peaceful, and he didn't seem like he was going to act like he used to. The truth was that the man was used to waking up alone. He had never slept with a woman in his entire life. Ethan considered sleep a time of vulnerability, and sharing his weaknesses with someone didn't seem pleasant.- "Go for it"- "You bet," the slight smile that formed on the man's lips didn'
- "My babies have grown up," she said, her voice already cracking and her eyes filled with tears.The wrinkles on Mirtes' face showed how experienced she was. A woman with history, with experiences. She was wearing one of her classic floral dresses, which only made her more adorable.- "Got room for my hug?" David complained, and then approached the small group.And then, only then, Blair really saw him. Those blond strands of hair, the yellow-brown eyes. David was a man, no longer a college kid. He seemed to have grown bigger, with more muscles on his body. But the essence; the essence of the man hadn't changed. He walked up to Blair, especially to her, and didn't hesitate before hugging her.The contact was strange at first. It wasn't bad, it was different. A lot had happened since the last time David had touched Blair. They had a relationship, or something like that. The truth was that the man loved the redhead like his lungs loved oxygen, but he had never felt the same way he woul
There’s a pause, and in the silence I feel the weight of everything he’s not saying. The desperation of searching for someone the whole world said was lost. The crushing hope, followed by the crumbling, each time he thought he’d found me only to discover it was someone else. The pain of living between belief and resignation, over and over again.His fingers, still hovering in the air, finally move. They touch my face, light and hesitant, as if he fears I might disappear at any moment. The touch is warm, but his fingers tremble, and it breaks something inside me.He's trying to be strong, but he can't hide the vulnerability that pulsates beneath the surface."It's you now," he says, and the certainty in his voice is almost palpable. As if, after so long, he can finally breathe.He smiles, but the smile isn’t what I remember. It’s not confident or charming. It’s small, fragile, and so full of sadness that it stings my eyes.There's something devastating about seeing him like this. That
My head moves slowly, against my will, as if an invisible thread were pulling me towards him. I don't want to look. I don't want to see. But fear and curiosity push me towards the inevitable realization that he is there, real, so close that even the air seems charged with his presence.My gaze first drops to the floor, to his shoes. A pair of casual sneakers, simple but they bring back memories that refuse to stay buried. Then my eyes move up to his legs. Black jeans, fitted, worn at the knees as if they’ve survived more than just time.My heart races, but I keep going. I glance down at his torso, noticing the dark sweater he’s wearing, elegant but in a casual way that only Ethan can pull off. He never had to try so hard to look… dangerous and attractive at the same time. He just was.It takes me longer than it should to look up at his face. As if my subconscious knew that this would be the point of no return. When I finally allow myself to look, I feel my heart almost stop.His beard
BLAIR'S POVI walk quickly through the parking lot of the building, rummaging through my bag for my car keys. The dim light from the overhead lights creates shadows that dance on the floor, but my attention is completely focused on finding the keychain.If the traffic is okay today (a miracle, considering the time of day) I can still make it to school in time to pick up Miguel and take him home. He hates it when I'm late, and he doesn't spare me the frustrated look, but maybe I can make up for it with a pizza for dinner. That usually works.Finally, my fingers touch the cold metal of the key, and a relieved sigh escapes my lips. I continue walking, my thoughts already moving on to what Miguel might choose as a topping for the pizza this time… pepperoni, perhaps?But as I turn the corner where my car is parked, something makes the world around me slow down.There’s my car, exactly where it should be. But next to it, taking up my parking space, is a black SUV that immediately catches my
"You were out of your mind that night." He looks at me now, his gaze a mixture of anger and pity. "And that's what happened. It was your car that hit her, Banks."The revelation hits me like a punch to the chest. “What?” I repeat, louder this time, my disbelief boiling over. “My car? Carter, my car?!” My voice rises, wavering between anger and desperation.“She would never feel safe with you again,” he says, his words cutting like knives. “After this, how could she?”My breathing quickens, and for a moment I feel like the world around me is falling apart. The air seems to escape my lungs, my mind in absolute chaos. Carter takes a step back, but I follow him, staring at him as if he’s the only thing still solid in my reality."What the fuck are you saying, Carter? My car…?" My voice breaks, begging for an answer I don't want to hear.I fall to my knees on the sidewalk, as if my legs can no longer support the weight of this revelation. My fingers tangle in my hair, pulling hard, as if t
When I finally stop, my body is panting, my hands shaking from the impact. I look at Carter, who is on the ground, his face swollen and blood dripping from his lips.He doesn't move.He doesn't say anything.He just stands there, staring at me with a look of sadness, of regret.“I… I knew it,” he says, his voice weak.I don’t answer, I have no words. The anger that consumed me before fades, and in its place comes a deep emptiness, as if the world has lost all meaning. I stand, looking at Carter on the floor. Each breath feels harder, heavier.What do I do now?I feel my body weaken. My legs shake, and the pain in my hand from punching so much spreads through my body. I try to breathe, but the pressure in my chest won't go away. And the only thought that runs through my mind is the emptiness of knowing that Blair is still alive, and I don't know what to do with that.I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.Carter struggles to his feet, running a hand over his jaw with a paine
I saw Blair. Or at least, I think I did. My mind no longer knows how to distinguish what is real from what is not. And while I stand there, lost in my own memories and hallucinations, Carter remains silent, his gaze fixed on me, unable to find words that could bring back what is already lost.He knows what's going on, but he doesn't know how to deal with it.He lowers his head, as if the very idea of saying the words is an unbearable weight. His voice is low, barely audible, but still, it seems to cut through the air between us, making everything around us disappear. "She's alive," he says, so quietly that for a moment I wonder if it's me, in my shattered sanity, who's imagining it all."What?" My voice is hoarse, a reflection of the disbelief that begins to take hold of me.He doesn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the floor, as if the words that just left his mouth were a condemnation. "You're not crazy, brother," he says with the same seriousness, but with a tone of regret. "Blair i
The valet hesitates, looking at the now-gone car, and shakes his head, clearly confused. "I... I'm not sure. No one important, sir."Nobody important?“No,” I breathe deeply, trying to control the rising panic. “No, I know what I saw. She was important.” The emptiness of the street around me seems to grow, to swallow me. I no longer know if I’m speaking to him or to myself."Ethan!" Carter is behind me now, his voice full of concern and something else. He reaches out to me, taking my arm. "What are you doing? What's going on?"I look at him, my face tense, anger and fear mixed together. "She was here. She was here," I hiss, unsure if he'll understand the depth of what I'm saying."Who?" Carter asks, his voice low, full of confusion and concern.He cups my face in his hands, as if trying to check if I'm feverish, if my mind is somewhere far away. His fingers press against my skin, but I barely feel them."Blair," I whisper, almost as if my voice is a distant memory, an attempt to captu
She finishes the glass in a single gulp, her gaze fixed on the horizon, as if she were losing herself in the lights of the city below. I follow her, drinking in her image, still immersed in my own thoughts."Good wines are not wasted," she murmurs with a seductive smile, her red lips almost provocative. The flirtation is clear, and for a moment, I find myself contemplating whether this is what I really want. But soon the answer comes silently: I am no longer the man who fell for this kind of game.When was the last time I was with a woman? The question resurfaces in my mind, and I know the answer. I know Blair was the last. There has never been another after her, despite the attempts, the distractions. No woman has been able to replace the space she left, not even for a moment. It grips me, swallows me, in a way I don't know how to escape."It's not wasted," I confirm, more to myself than to her. The sound of my own voice seems distant.The blonde steps forward, her plunging neckline
“I’m developing a new sparkling wine brand,” says Cortez, a big-time alcoholic entrepreneur, in a tone of voice so enthusiastic that I almost feel guilty for not showing the slightest interest. “You know, I’m not new to the business. I thought we could do a campaign together. Something big.”I feign interest, crossing my arms and smiling, even though my mind has already begun to wander away from the conversation. “What were you thinking about?” I ask, my tone calculated with curiosity, so as not to seem disinterested.“Something you could incorporate into racing, you know?” Cortez continues, his voice growing even more animated. “Like, throwing champagne in the air when you win a race. That classic gesture, but with our own brand.” He smiles, pleased with the idea, as if he’s offering me a golden opportunity.I watch him intently for a few seconds, but soon I start to let his words fade into the background of my mind. He keeps babbling, but his words are like distant noises now. I'm n