By the time they finished work, dusk had settled over the city, casting long shadows across the streets. “I need to get back to the cabin,” Leonardo said, gathering his things. “My wife’s there, and we’ll wrap things up once we’re back.” He knew Arya had gone to the convent earlier to confront Isabel, and although his instincts told him she was safe, a faint sense of urgency nagged at him. Working here, dealing with everything else, had given her space, but he couldn’t help wanting to check in on her. Behind him, Ricardo and Rob were in yet another argument, voices rising and falling as they debated. Leonardo had long since learned to tune them out. Instead, he let his thoughts wander. Spending most of his childhood alone, with only the company of books he’d memorized cover to cover, he’d become accustomed to living inside his mind, finding peace there. But something shifted. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement, something or someone moving too delib
She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s… it’s all too much, Leo. Everything. Isabel, the Sisterhood, my parents—I never even had the chance to mourn them, and now all of this…” He squeezed her hands, the warmth of his touch grounding her. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I know it feels like the world is crumbling, but we’ll get through it. We always do.” She gave a bitter laugh, wiping away a tear. “You warned me about this life. You told me it would be hard, that it would come with pain and danger. And I thought I was ready. But now…” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression softening. “You are ready. You’re stronger than anyone I know. And you’re not alone.” She broke down into even harder sobs, and he just held her close, letting her cry against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, and he whispered soothing words, his touch gentle and comforting. As her body shook with grief, he fought the urge to share what had happe
Arya walked into the Mayor’s office, her mind still swirling with thoughts of her time at the convent, which had ended permanently. Henry had called her the day before, insisting that someone come to the Townhouse to collect a certificate for her volunteer service. She had kindly turned him down, but Henry was insistent, not taking no for an answer. Arya found herself wondering where this sudden niceness was coming from. She didn’t trust a single soul in this town, not even after everything she’d done to protect herself, including running a secret background check on Ricardo—though he would never find out about that. “Ah, Dona, welcome to my office,” the Mayor greeted, his voice oozing charm as his secretary led her into the room. Across from him sat Isabel and one of the council members, Frederick. Arya couldn’t bring herself to look at Isabel, her gaze fixed firmly on Henry instead. “Thank you for having me,” Arya said, offering a smile that barely touched her lips. Henr
Arya burst into the room, emotions swirling in a storm of frustration. Leonardo, shirtless and in sweatpants, lay on the bed with his laptop, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. When he looked up and saw her, his expression immediately softened. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Fuck! I’m so tired of all of this! When does it actually end?” Arya's voice was thick with anger and despair as she shouted, letting out everything she had bottled up inside. Leonardo remained quiet, letting her vent, and placed a gentle hand on her back for support, feeling the tension in her shoulders. “We can talk about it when you're ready,” he said quietly, his voice calm and steady. She took a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Isabel said she’s my grandmother,” she blurted out. He froze, stunned by her revelation. It explained so much—Isabel’s secretive behavior, her willingness to help them even at great personal risk. “How do you fe
“By the time I turned sixteen, much had changed in my life, though little for the better. I was the scorn of the town, whispers trailing me wherever I went. It wasn’t just the shame of my past that followed me like a shadow; it was the doors that slammed shut in my face, the jobs that paid me barely half of what they should, the side-eyes from those who thought they knew my story. And then there was Mama’s boyfriend, Stanley, who moved into our already-cramped home.” FLASHBACK Isabel stumbled into the house after a long, grueling day of work. The sun had long since set, and her body ached with exhaustion. She immediately headed to the kitchen, her stomach growling in protest, but her heart sank when she found the pans empty. She had prepared the food earlier that morning before leaving, but as usual, there was nothing left for her. Not a scrap. Her younger siblings, Amanda and Jacob, had already gone out for their own work, leaving the house silent save for the faint rustling
Arya gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “You got impregnated by your mother’s boyfriend?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Isabel nodded solemnly. “I did. I did all I could as a pregnant teenager with no home. I wish I’d known about the convent back then—it would have made my life so much easier. With little to no source of income or support, I was miserable and alone in the trenches of this town after I had to leave the old one. I won’t bore you with all the details. But when I was in labor, I had to make some difficult decisions.” FLASHBACK Isabel sat in the corner of her dimly lit room, chewing on the last bit of food she’d managed to scavenge. Her stomach cramped painfully, but she wasn’t sure if it was from hunger or something worse. It had been four days since her last meal, and her body was weak, her limbs trembling with every small movement. The cramps intensified, radiating through her body, and a wave of nausea swept over her. She pressed her hands again
Isabel cradled the baby close, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as the infant’s soft cries filled the room. Her daughter. She traced the baby’s tiny features with trembling fingers—her button nose, her soft cheeks, and the tiniest fingers she had ever seen. A fierce protectiveness gripped her heart, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. But the moment of tenderness was fleeting. The cold, harsh reality of her situation came crashing down on her. She had no home, no job, and no way to provide for herself, let alone a newborn. The room reeked of decay and dampness, its peeling walls and rat-infested corners a far cry from the safe haven a child deserved. The baby’s cries grew louder, piercing through Isabel’s haze of despair. “Shh, shh, I’m here,” she whispered, rocking her gently. But the cries didn’t stop, and Isabel realized with a sinking feeling that the baby was hungry. She looked around the room, her heart racing. There was no milk, no clean water—nothing. Panic cla
Arya entered her father’s room with dread in the pit of her stomach. “You sent for me father”, she said softly as her father turned around on his seat. “You’re getting married the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’ll meet your soon to be husband at your engagement party”, her father, Carl Miguel said with an air that leaves no room for argument. Arya couldn’t believe her ears, she definitely wasn’t having it. “What?!”, she exclaimed. Carl lifted an eyelid at her. “Father, I just turned twenty, surely you can’t push me of to be with someone I do not know”, she said. “I’ll forgive you for talking back at me like that just this once, Arya", Carl said with a stern expression. “I am your child for crying out loud, your only daughter! And you’re pushing me off to be with a stranger?”, she asked, still unable to believe her ears. “This marriage is set in stones, there’s no need to shout”, Carl said nonchalantly, an impassive expression on his face. “I refuse this marria
Isabel cradled the baby close, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as the infant’s soft cries filled the room. Her daughter. She traced the baby’s tiny features with trembling fingers—her button nose, her soft cheeks, and the tiniest fingers she had ever seen. A fierce protectiveness gripped her heart, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. But the moment of tenderness was fleeting. The cold, harsh reality of her situation came crashing down on her. She had no home, no job, and no way to provide for herself, let alone a newborn. The room reeked of decay and dampness, its peeling walls and rat-infested corners a far cry from the safe haven a child deserved. The baby’s cries grew louder, piercing through Isabel’s haze of despair. “Shh, shh, I’m here,” she whispered, rocking her gently. But the cries didn’t stop, and Isabel realized with a sinking feeling that the baby was hungry. She looked around the room, her heart racing. There was no milk, no clean water—nothing. Panic cla
Arya gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “You got impregnated by your mother’s boyfriend?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Isabel nodded solemnly. “I did. I did all I could as a pregnant teenager with no home. I wish I’d known about the convent back then—it would have made my life so much easier. With little to no source of income or support, I was miserable and alone in the trenches of this town after I had to leave the old one. I won’t bore you with all the details. But when I was in labor, I had to make some difficult decisions.” FLASHBACK Isabel sat in the corner of her dimly lit room, chewing on the last bit of food she’d managed to scavenge. Her stomach cramped painfully, but she wasn’t sure if it was from hunger or something worse. It had been four days since her last meal, and her body was weak, her limbs trembling with every small movement. The cramps intensified, radiating through her body, and a wave of nausea swept over her. She pressed her hands again
“By the time I turned sixteen, much had changed in my life, though little for the better. I was the scorn of the town, whispers trailing me wherever I went. It wasn’t just the shame of my past that followed me like a shadow; it was the doors that slammed shut in my face, the jobs that paid me barely half of what they should, the side-eyes from those who thought they knew my story. And then there was Mama’s boyfriend, Stanley, who moved into our already-cramped home.” FLASHBACK Isabel stumbled into the house after a long, grueling day of work. The sun had long since set, and her body ached with exhaustion. She immediately headed to the kitchen, her stomach growling in protest, but her heart sank when she found the pans empty. She had prepared the food earlier that morning before leaving, but as usual, there was nothing left for her. Not a scrap. Her younger siblings, Amanda and Jacob, had already gone out for their own work, leaving the house silent save for the faint rustling
Arya burst into the room, emotions swirling in a storm of frustration. Leonardo, shirtless and in sweatpants, lay on the bed with his laptop, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. When he looked up and saw her, his expression immediately softened. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Fuck! I’m so tired of all of this! When does it actually end?” Arya's voice was thick with anger and despair as she shouted, letting out everything she had bottled up inside. Leonardo remained quiet, letting her vent, and placed a gentle hand on her back for support, feeling the tension in her shoulders. “We can talk about it when you're ready,” he said quietly, his voice calm and steady. She took a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Isabel said she’s my grandmother,” she blurted out. He froze, stunned by her revelation. It explained so much—Isabel’s secretive behavior, her willingness to help them even at great personal risk. “How do you fe
Arya walked into the Mayor’s office, her mind still swirling with thoughts of her time at the convent, which had ended permanently. Henry had called her the day before, insisting that someone come to the Townhouse to collect a certificate for her volunteer service. She had kindly turned him down, but Henry was insistent, not taking no for an answer. Arya found herself wondering where this sudden niceness was coming from. She didn’t trust a single soul in this town, not even after everything she’d done to protect herself, including running a secret background check on Ricardo—though he would never find out about that. “Ah, Dona, welcome to my office,” the Mayor greeted, his voice oozing charm as his secretary led her into the room. Across from him sat Isabel and one of the council members, Frederick. Arya couldn’t bring herself to look at Isabel, her gaze fixed firmly on Henry instead. “Thank you for having me,” Arya said, offering a smile that barely touched her lips. Henr
She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s… it’s all too much, Leo. Everything. Isabel, the Sisterhood, my parents—I never even had the chance to mourn them, and now all of this…” He squeezed her hands, the warmth of his touch grounding her. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I know it feels like the world is crumbling, but we’ll get through it. We always do.” She gave a bitter laugh, wiping away a tear. “You warned me about this life. You told me it would be hard, that it would come with pain and danger. And I thought I was ready. But now…” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression softening. “You are ready. You’re stronger than anyone I know. And you’re not alone.” She broke down into even harder sobs, and he just held her close, letting her cry against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, and he whispered soothing words, his touch gentle and comforting. As her body shook with grief, he fought the urge to share what had happe
By the time they finished work, dusk had settled over the city, casting long shadows across the streets. “I need to get back to the cabin,” Leonardo said, gathering his things. “My wife’s there, and we’ll wrap things up once we’re back.” He knew Arya had gone to the convent earlier to confront Isabel, and although his instincts told him she was safe, a faint sense of urgency nagged at him. Working here, dealing with everything else, had given her space, but he couldn’t help wanting to check in on her. Behind him, Ricardo and Rob were in yet another argument, voices rising and falling as they debated. Leonardo had long since learned to tune them out. Instead, he let his thoughts wander. Spending most of his childhood alone, with only the company of books he’d memorized cover to cover, he’d become accustomed to living inside his mind, finding peace there. But something shifted. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement, something or someone moving too delib
Leonardo walked into the room to find everyone already seated, waiting expectantly. He took his seat, and Rob slid a few files across the table. “These are all we could gather, boss. I double-checked—it’s everything they had,” Rob said, his tone firm. Leonardo picked up the files, scanning through them quickly. Setting them back down, he looked up, addressing the room. “Someone is playing a twisted game with my wife. She suspects it might be the Mother Superior, but I’m not convinced,” he began, his voice steely. Rob tensed beside him. Usually, they didn’t discuss these matters openly, especially with others around. But Rob must have trusted Leonardo’s judgment since he didn’t attempt to question it. “Of course, we don’t suspect any of you,” Leonardo added, glancing around the table. “We trust you all completely, especially after the support you’ve shown. And if we need further assistance, we’ll reach out.” He nodded at Ricardo, who took the cue. “You heard the Don. We
Arya could hardly believe Isabel’s audacity. Her voice trembled with anger as she glared at the Mother Superior. “Don’t sit there on your high horse, pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Isabel sighed, placing her reading glasses delicately on the table. “I get that you’re the wife of a very powerful man, a Don, but Arya, I don’t need to hear about the issues in your marriage. I have done nothing wrong, and I genuinely have no idea what you’re accusing me of.” Arya recoiled, taken aback by the indifference in Isabel’s tone. “What? Why would you say that?” “Why shouldn’t I?” Isabel responded sharply, her expression unreadable. Arya narrowed her eyes, studying Isabel's face. “No. Why would you assume this was about my marriage, Isabel? What makes you think that’s what I came here for?” Isabel raised an eyebrow, her mouth curling in a faint, mocking smile. “Oh, it’s not? Then I’m truly sorry for the misunderstanding. But tell me, Arya—what exactly are you accusi