Kylie
The air was different in New York. Colder, sharper. The moment I stepped off the plane, the city’s unfamiliar sounds washed over me like a wave—horns blaring, people talking in hurried voices, and the constant hum of life moving at a relentless pace. It was nothing like home.
But that was the point.
I clutched my suitcase tightly, my heart pounding in my chest. This was my new life now, far away from the drama and tension that had defined everything back home. Far away from the cold judgment of my father and the scheming eyes of Celeste and Vaness. Here, I was just Kylie. Not the daughter of a wealthy businessman, not the woman caught in a web of lies. Just me.
My grandmother was waiting for me at the airport, her face lighting up as soon as she saw me. Her gray hair was pulled into a neat bun, and she wore the same kind of warm, practical clothes I remembered from my childhood. She looked smaller than I remembered, but her presence was just as comforting.
"Kylie, my dear!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace. The warmth of her hug was enough to make my chest tighten with emotion. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this, how much I had been craving the kind of love only she could give.
"Hi, Grandma," I whispered, my voice thick with tears that threatened to spill over.
She pulled back, her sharp eyes scanning my face as if searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give. "You look tired, sweetheart. But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Let’s get you home."
The drive to my grandmother’s house was quiet. She didn’t press me for details about why I had come or what had happened back home. She had always been the kind of woman who waited for you to open up on your own terms, and I appreciated that more than ever now.
Her home was tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, a modest, cozy brownstone with ivy creeping up the brick walls. It felt like a sanctuary, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of peace.
"You’ll stay as long as you need to," she said as we walked inside. "There’s no rush to figure things out. You’re family, Kylie, and family takes care of each other."
Her words nearly broke me. After everything I’d been through, hearing someone offer help without conditions or judgment felt like a lifeline. I hadn’t realized how suffocating my life had become until that moment. I nodded, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.
The first few weeks in New York passed in a blur. My body adjusted to the changes pregnancy brought, and my grandmother hovered around me like a protective shield, making sure I was eating well, resting, and staying healthy.
But the emotional weight of everything I’d left behind still lingered. At night, when the house was quiet, I found myself thinking about Atlas. I missed his presence, his steady reassurance. Part of me wondered if I’d made a mistake in pushing him away, but I knew deep down that I had done the right thing. Atlas deserved a life free from the burden of my past, free from the complications that came with raising a child that wasn’t his.
And then there was Rage Montez.
I had spent months trying to forget that night, trying to push the memory of his touch and the fire between us out of my mind. But no matter how hard I tried, he was always there, lurking in the back of my thoughts.
Every time I felt the baby kick, I was reminded of him—of the life we had created in that fleeting, reckless moment. I wondered what would happen if he ever found out. Would he even care? Or would he see this child as just another piece of leverage in the ongoing feud between our families?
I shook the thoughts away, determined to focus on the present. I had made my choice. I was here now, and my only priority was my child.
As the months passed, my belly grew, and so did my connection to the life inside me. Each kick, each flutter, brought with it a sense of awe and responsibility. I was going to be a mother. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
My grandmother was there for every step, offering wisdom and comfort in ways only she could. She never asked about the baby’s father, and for that, I was grateful. I wasn’t ready to talk about Rage, not yet.
As I neared my due date, the reality of what was coming began to settle in. I was going to raise this child on my own. There would be no Atlas by my side, no father to share the burden of late-night feedings or diaper changes. But I wasn’t afraid. If anything, I felt stronger than I ever had before.
The day my son was born was both the most beautiful and the most overwhelming experience of my life. The labor was long and exhausting, but when they placed him in my arms for the first time, all the pain and fear melted away.
He was perfect.
Tiny, with a shock of dark hair and wide, curious eyes that seemed to take in the world around him. I named him Liam, after my mother’s father. It felt right, honoring the family that had always supported me.
Holding him in my arms, I made a silent vow to protect him from the chaos of my past. He was my world now, and I would do everything in my power to give him the life he deserved.
Five years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. Life in New York had become our new normal. Liam grew into a bright, energetic boy with an infectious smile and a curiosity that reminded me of my younger self. He was my anchor, the reason I got out of bed every morning and pushed forward, no matter how hard things got.
My grandmother had been a constant presence in our lives, helping me raise Liam and offering guidance whenever I needed it. She adored him, spoiling him in the way only a grandmother could.
I had found work at a local fashion boutique, nothing glamorous like the life I had left behind, but it was enough. The customers were kind, and my boss appreciated my hard work. It was honest, simple, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of peace.
But despite the distance and the time that had passed, there was always a part of me that worried about what would happen if the truth ever came out. Liam looked more like Rage with each passing year—the same dark hair, the same intense gaze. I tried not to think about it, but the resemblance was undeniable.
Sometimes, I wondered if I should’ve told Rage about his son. I hadn’t heard from him in years, hadn’t seen his face since that night. For all I knew, he had moved on with his life, completely unaware of the child he had fathered.
But as much as I feared what would happen if Rage found out, I also feared what would happen if he didn’t. Liam had a right to know where he came from, to know the truth about his father.
One evening, after I had put Liam to bed, I sat by the window, looking out at the city lights. My grandmother was knitting quietly beside me, the click of her needles the only sound in the room.
"You’ve done well, Kylie," she said softly, her voice breaking the silence. "Raising Liam on your own... you should be proud."
I smiled, though my heart felt heavy. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Grandma."
She reached over and patted my hand. "You’re stronger than you think. But I can see the weight you’re carrying, dear. It’s time to let go of the past."
I looked at her, my throat tightening. She had always known. Maybe not the specifics, but she had known there was something I hadn’t told her. Something I had been holding onto all these years.
"I’m scared," I whispered. "I’m scared of what will happen if I tell him... or if I don’t."
My grandmother’s eyes softened with understanding. "You can’t live in fear, Kylie. You’ve built a beautiful life here. Whatever happens, you’ll handle it. You always do."
I nodded, wiping away the tears that had slipped down my cheeks. She was right. I had built a life for myself and Liam, and I would do whatever it took to protect it.
But deep down, I knew the day was coming when I would have to face the truth. Liam deserved to know who his father was, and Rage... well, he deserved to know the son he had unknowingly left behind.
KylieI could taste every drop of alcohol as it flowed down my throat while everyone around me cheered in delight. I didn't know why I was doing this, but one thing was certain—I wanted to escape. I wanted to break free from the pain weighing down my heart. I was tired of sulking in a corner, but I also didn't know how to face all of this. It hurt me to see myself suffering, but it seemed like I had no other choice but to flee from reality."Drink more, Kylie!" shouted Vaness, my cousin, with a teasing and mocking tone. She wasn't my real cousin, but she was the closest relative I had in our new family setup. I grabbed another glass and downed it, hoping that every drop of alcohol would wash away the wounds in my soul.As the night deepened and the drinks piled up, I felt the pain in my heart slowly fading. But despite my efforts to forget everything, the weight of my emotions seemed to grow heavier. I carried every heartache and problem with me as I forced myself to smile. I couldn’t
KylieAfter everything that happened, I stumbled into the bathroom, my body still trembling from the intensity of our encounter. The lingering heat between my thighs and the sheen of sweat covering my skin reminded me of how wild and passionate it had been. I needed to clean myself, to wash away the evidence of our shared hunger. The cool water would help soothe the fever still burning inside me, a fever stoked by alcohol and the relentless desire that seemed impossible to quench.I turned on the shower, letting the cold water rain down on me, hoping it would cool the fire within. The shock of the cold made me shiver, but it was a welcome relief from the heat that had consumed me. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back as the water cascaded over my face, washing away the sweat and the haze of alcohol. For a moment, I let myself drift, trying to reclaim a sense of normalcy after the whirlwind of emotions and sensations that had overtaken me.But just as I began to find some peace, I fe
KylieI woke up to a splitting headache, my body aching from the aftermath of last night. The throbbing pain reminded me of how intense things had gotten. We didn’t just do it once; we went at it multiple times. I turned my head to the side, curious to see who I had spent the night with. That’s when I truly appreciated Rage’s face. Even in sleep, he looked striking—his strong, chiseled features, the sharp bridge of his nose, and his mestizo complexion.It’s ironic how peaceful he looks while sleeping, yet so wild and untamed in bed. I never imagined my first time would be so memorable, and he made sure it was, exceeding all my expectations.I hadn’t anticipated anything happening between us. After all, we don’t love each other. But the way he pleasured me was something I hadn’t expected. He was incredibly skilled, leaving no doubt in my mind that women probably chased after him for more. It’s easy to see why they would—he’s the kind of man you’d crave again and again.I swallowed hard
KylieI don’t know why I’m still here. They won’t ask for my opinion on business matters since Dad knows he won’t get anything useful from me. But I’m here because they want Atlas to marry me for their own selfish reasons.I glance at Vaness, noticing the irritation and frustration etched on her face. I know exactly how much she wants Atlas. I’ve always known this day would come; it’s clear that she’s not genuine in her actions and that envy has always simmered beneath the surface.“Kylie,” Atlas calls my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. I take a deep breath, turning to face him with an expression devoid of any emotion. To me, Atlas is just a friend—nothing more. But that changed when he confessed his feelings for me. Since then, I’ve grown even more distant from him, especially after learning about the arranged marriage.
Kylie I sat by the pool, lost in thought, mulling over the things I had overheard earlier. I didn’t know how I would tell Dad about it; he never listens to me anyway, especially when it comes to matters I deem important.“So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Atlas’s voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up at him and sighed deeply. I didn’t understand why he kept coming around, especially when he knew I couldn’t reciprocate the feelings he had for me. But he continued to approach me, undeterred.He took a seat beside me, but I didn’t acknowledge him, too preoccupied with my own thoughts. “Are you really not going to talk to me?” he asked gently.“Why are you here, Atlas? Haven’t I been clear enough about my feelings toward you? Why do you still want to marry me?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustra
Kylie We went to the hospital just as Atlas suggested. I was starting to feel better, so I told him we didn't need to go, but his concern was overwhelming, so we continued. While waiting for the results in one of the rooms, I was startled when the door suddenly opened and my father walked in, accompanied by my aunt.My heart skipped a beat. What were they doing here? We hadn't informed them that Atlas and I were at the hospital, so how did they find out?“Dad, what are you doing here? I thought you were at the office?” I asked, trying to mask the anxiety in my voice.“We came home early, and the maids told us you and Atlas came here. What happened?” His voice was laced with worry. I didn’t expect him to be this concerned about me.“Nothing yet, uncle. We’re still waiting for Kylie’s results,” Atlas responded, and my father nodded, though the concern in his eyes didn’t waver.“You didn’t need to come here. We can handle this on our own. It’s better if you wait for us outside. It’s emb
KylieWe were standing before them—Dad, Aunt Celeste, and now Vaness—facing the inevitable. My heart raced as I saw the expression on their faces. They could sense that something was off, and I could feel the weight of what was about to happen.I wanted to stop Atlas. This wasn’t his responsibility. He didn’t need to carry this burden, yet the determination in his eyes was undeniable. He wanted this—to stand by my side, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness and freedom. The sadness that washed over me was suffocating. He was willing to give up so much to form a family, just to help me."What do you have to say?" Dad’s voice was sharp, demanding. His gaze, more intense than I had ever felt, made the air between us heavy.The tension in the room thickened further when Vaness arrived. She looked at us, her face hard with confusion and suspicion.“What’s going on here, Aunt?” I heard her ask Aunt Celeste.“Well, they’ve been standing there for a while, but still, nothing’s come o
Kylie Once we reached my room, Atlas shut the door behind us, and the silence between us grew louder. I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling as I rested them on my lap. He knelt down in front of me, his hands resting on my knees, his warm touch grounding me."Kylie," he began, his voice low and steady. "We need to talk about what just happened."I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "Atlas, I’m sorry," I whispered. "I never meant for any of this to happen. You shouldn’t have to deal with this."He sighed, his thumb gently tracing circles on my knee. "I told you, I’ll help you through this. But we need to be careful. Vaness won’t let this go. She’s determined to find out the truth."I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "You don’t have to keep pretending, Atlas," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I never should’ve dragged you into this."He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were f