"Sign the papers, Estella." Marco slid the divorce papers across the mahogany table, his eyes fixed on Claudia, who hovered by his side with a victorious smile. "Did you really think a nobody like you could keep me?" Estella's throat tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze. The diamond on Claudia's finger caught the light—his best friend now wearing what should have been hers forever. "You should be grateful," Claudia murmured, resting a hand on her belly. "Letting you go is the kindest thing we've done for you." When Estella married into the powerful Valdez family, she believed in love conquering all. Instead, she found herself cast out, Helena Valdez herself showing her the door when Claudia announced her pregnancy. Then Alejandro De Luca appeared—Marco's sworn enemy offering an unexpected proposition. "A contract marriage," he said simply. "You get protection. I get revenge." Together, they plotted to dismantle the very family that had humiliated her. With each calculated move, Estella reclaimed pieces of herself she thought lost forever. But revenge is a dangerous game. As their plan unfolded and tragedy struck, Estella discovered that survival meant more than settling scores—it meant learning to wield her pain as power. The quietest heart, after all, often hides the most dangerous storm.
View MoreI lunged forward before the doors fully opened, without looking and slammed right into someone."I'm sorry, I—" The words died in my mouth as I looked up.A sharp intake of breath followed. "Oh my God."Time seemed to freeze as I stared into the face staring back at mine .Clara eyes widened, lips parting in shock. For a heartbeat, we both stood paralyzed.Then her face crumpled, her eyes filling with tears instantly. "Estella? Is that you?"Before I could respond, she threw her arms around me, clutching me like I might disappear if she let go."It's you. It's really you," she sobbed, her whole body trembling.I clung to her just as desperately, burying my face in her shoulder. The scent of her perfume—the same one she'd worn for years—unleashed a flood of memories."Clara," I choked out, barely recognizing my own voice.She pulled back just enough to cup my face between her hands, eyes searching mine as if trying to convince herself I was real."I thought I was hallucinating," she wh
I stared at my reflection in Alejandro's closet mirror one last time before heading out. The woman looking back at me was caught between two identities—Amelia Alvarez, the woman who lived in Madrid with no past, and Estella De Luca, the woman who built a life alongside the man who'd just reclaimed every inch of my body.Last night changed everything and nothing at the same time. I grabbed my phone, fully charged now, and pulled up the address."Time to remember," I whispered to my reflection.In his closet, I found a dark baseball cap and a pair of oversized sunglasses. A weak disguise, but enough to avoid immediate recognition. I wasn't ready for a grand entrance—not yet anyway.I grabbed my purse and slipped out the door. The doorman nodded politely, not recognizing me—another knife twist of how completely I'd vanished from this life.In the cab, I watched the New York streets blur past. My heart hammered against my ribs as the name "Estrella Designs" burned in my mind. Clara had k
The bed was exactly as I remembered it—king-sized, with dark sheets that had always contrasted so beautifully with my skin. How many nights had we spent here, tangled together in passion or simply sleeping in each other's arms?I stood by the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do. What comes next now? This moment felt fragile. One wrong move, and whatever connection and peace we'd reestablished might shatter.Alejandro came up behind me, his chest pressed against my back, arms encircling my waist. His lips found my shoulder, then my neck, working their way up to my ear."On your knees," he murmured, and the command sent a shiver down my spine.I complied, crawling onto the bed and positioning myself as instructed. The towel fell away, leaving me exposed to his gaze. I heard his sharp intake of breath, felt the bed dip as he knelt behind me.His hands gripped my hips, pulling me back against him. "You left, Estella.""I know," I whispered, dropping my head between my arms. "I know."He
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't forgiving. It was demanding, consuming, raw.I gasped against his mouth, my hands clutching at his shoulders, his back, anywhere I could reach. His body pressed against mine, pinning me to the wall. One of his hands tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to hurt, to remind me of all the pain between us.His hands gripped my waist, yanking me against him. "Five fucking years," he growled against my mouth.I gasped as his teeth scraped my lower lip, then bit down hard enough to make me taste copper. The pain shot straight to my core, making me moan."Did he get to see you like this?" He spun me around, pressing my chest against the cold wall. His erection pressed against my ass, his breath hot on my neck. "All desperate and needy?"I gasped unable to answer as his hand slid up my thigh, under my skirt. His fingers hooked into my panties, ripping the delicate fabric with one sharp tug. The sound of tearing lace made me whimper."I hate how much I still want
The cold marble floor of the hallway numbed my ass hours ago. I'd lost track of time, sitting outside, knees pulled to my chest like some pathetic stalker.Each time the elevator dinged, my heart leapt into my throat, but it was never him. Just neighbors casting curious glances at the woman camping outside the most expensive unit in the building.What the hell was I doing here?Forty floors up in a New York high-rise, three thousand miles from Madrid, from Arielle. I'd left our daughter with aunt Eleanor after promising her I'd bring Daddy home."It'll just be a few days," I'd told her, brushing her hair from her forehead."Promise you'll fix it?"I couldn't lie to her again. "I promise I'll try."Now I was sitting on floor with nothing to show for it. All attempts to call him, straight to voicemail. Twenty-two hours of travel. A quick flight on a private jet, arranged by a single call to my family's assistant.I stared at the keypad beside his door.I considered the door code. Would
Alejandro It’s been three days since I'd fled Madrid. Three days of pretending I wasn't running from her.I leaned back in my chair, staring at the stack of contracts I'd been working through for the past fourteen hours. My eyes burned, but sleep wasn't an option. Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant her.My phone vibrated against the desk. Enrique again, the fifth time today.Need a pickup from the office, boss? It's nearly midnight.I tossed the phone face-down on my desk without answering. Let him wonder. Let everyone wonder. I was done explaining myself.I picture her standing in her food steaming on the table. Her eyes, wide and hopeful when Arielle called me."Fuck," I muttered, shoving away from my desk.Leaving was for the best. I repeated it like a mantra. A lie I didn't believe.I walked to the minibar in the corner of my office and reached for the whiskey before stopping myself. No. I hadn't touched a drink since I found out I have a daughter, and I wouldn't start now, no
The next day, I was on a mission. I woke early, made sure Arielle had breakfast, then spent the entire morning and afternoon in the kitchen."You know we have staff for this," Eleanor said, watching me struggle with a particularly stubborn clove of garlic."I need to do this myself," I insisted, cursing as the knife slipped. "It has to be perfect."I was making Alejandro's favorite. It was the first dish I'd ever cooked for him when we first got married, and I'd nearly burned down his house in the process. He had to take over and complete the meal himself. The memory made my hands shake."At least let me help," Eleanor offered, stepping closer.I shook my head. "No don’t worry. I've got this."By late afternoon, the kitchen was a disaster, but the food was finally coming together. I'd sent Aunt Eleanor out for fresh flowers and had set the table with the good china."Mama, it smells yummy!" Arielle said, skipping into the kitchen. "Can I call him now?"I checked the time. Five thirty
I punched in Alejandro's number for the third time. The same result—straight to voicemail. Not even a ring this time."Fuck," I muttered, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat. Eleanor glanced at me from behind the wheel. "Still nothing?""He's blocked me." The realization hit like a punch to the gut. "Or he's deliberately sending me to voicemail.""Maybe he just needs time."I shot her a look. "Don't start with that therapist bullshit. I don’t need that now."We'd reached a fragile truce—living under the same roof again—but forgiveness wasn't something I was ready to cross yet."I need to see him face-to-face," I said, staring out the window. "He can't ignore me if I'm standing right in front of him."Eleanor sighed. "Amelia—""Just drop me at his place." I cut her off. "Please."Twenty minutes later, Eleanor pulled up to the house."Want me to wait?" Eleanor asked."No," I said, opening the car door. "I'll call if I need a ride."I watched her drive away before turning to face t
I followed Eleanor back home in a daze. The same house I'd stormed out of weeks ago when I discovered her lies. Now I am back to where I started, broken and desperate.The house was pin drop silence I walked through the door. No pitter-patter of little feet. No giggles down the hallway. No demands for bedtime stories or "five more minutes, Maama."Just emptiness."Hey, come sit down before you collapse." Eleanor guided me to the sofa, her hand on my elbow.I sank down, my body feeling heavy. My phone sat on the coffee table the screen dark and silent. I reached for it, checking for the hundredth time.He has not called. Not a text. Nothing."Has he reached out?" Eleanor asked.I shook my head. "What if she's scared? What if she wakes up in a strange place and needs me?""You said Arielle adores Alejandro," Eleanor reminded me gently. "I’m sure she'll be fine.""But she's never spent a night away from me. Not once in five years." My voice starts breaking. "What if she thinks I abandone
I tilt my head toward the mirror, squinting to see if the makeup covers the red mark. The foundation smooths over the skin fine enough, but somehow, I can still feel it—a prickling reminder right there on my cheekbone. I dab another layer, then another, the brush pressing harder until my jaw clenches. He didn’t even flinch. I shake the thought away, pulling back to check my work. The mirror reflects something close enough to perfect, so I force a smile. I pick up my phone and tap into it. This—decorations, outfit, everything—has to mean something. Tonight’s the night. As the camera goes live, I tilt my face just right, adding a little shimmer of joy to my eyes. I’ve practiced the smile enough that it comes naturally. “Hi, everyone! Welcome back to Estella’s Living,” I chirp, waving. “Tonight’s a special night. It’s our five-year anniversary, and I thought you’d all love a little peek into the surprise I’ve put together for him.” I adjust the angle to show the beautifully arrang...
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