Estella POVI stopped at a 24/7 store next which was quiet except for the shuffle of a lone employee restocking shelves. I wandered through the aisles, scanning shelves that gleamed under harsh fluorescent lighting. My fingers hovered over a stack of plain T-shirts before settling on a soft gray one. I threw it into my basket alongside the essentials I’d already grabbed—a travel toothbrush, a comb, a pack of face wipes, and a plain set of pajamas. My fingers hesitated over a simple black dress. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to wear it. But then again, who cares so I tossed it into my basket too, along with a pair of flats.The cashier smiled politely as I slid Clara’s credit card across the counter, her nails clicking against the keyboard as she rang up my items. She didn’t say much, but the look she gave me—it was faintly curious, like she was trying to place me. Did I seem familiar to her too? Or was I just paranoid after the receptionist?I stuffed the receipt into the bag and hea
Estella POVI opened the door to find Elliot standing there, looking… ridiculous. My eyes trailed over his outfit—thick boots, thermal pants, and a heavy jacket that seemed suited for climbing Mount Everest. A knit beanie rested crookedly on his blonde head, making his sharp features stand out even more.“What are you wearing?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up.He gave me a grin that bordered on mischievous. “What you’re wearing won’t do,” he said, gesturing to my blazer and slacks.I glanced down at myself, confused. “What’s wrong with this? I thought we were going over a contract, not… whatever this is.”“Good thing I thought ahead,” he replied, holding up a plain brown paper bag. He shoved it toward me.I peeked inside, and my confusion only deepened. Inside were layers of clothing—thick thermal leggings, a fitted fleece jacket, gloves, and a scarf. “Elliot,” I started, my voice filled with suspicion, “what are you planning? This is hardly what to wear for business.”“You’ll see,”
Estella POV The trail was well-maintained, but the snow made it slippery. I was grateful for the hiking boots he’d provided as they gripped the ground securely. I trudged behind him, muttering curses under my breath. “Keep up, Estella,” he called over his shoulder, clearly amused. “Keep up?” I shot back. “I didn’t sign up for this.” “Be careful you can easily get lost. It is slippery and wet from the snow so it is dangerous.” By the time we reached the top of the trail, I was out of breath, my cheeks red from the cold. But when I saw the view, my complaints died in my throat. My legs were screaming, but the view at the top was worth it. The city lay below us. The mountains stretched out in every direction, their peaks dusted with snow that sparkled in the sun. It was breathtaking. “You can stop pretending not to be impressed,” Elliot said beside me, his tone teasing. “Okay,” I admitted, “this is… impressive.” Elliot smiled, his gaze fixed on the view. “I thought you’
Estella POV I stumbled back a step, my boots sliding slightly against the uneven rock beneath me. My heart was pounding in my chest, though not from the altitude. I froze, unable to comprehend the sheer audacity of it. Then it hit me like a lightning strike. Elliot’s green eyes were still locked on mine, wide with shock as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. It wasn’t Alejandro’s stormy gray eyes staring back at me. I shoved him hard, my palms slamming into his chest with all the strength I could muster. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” I yelled, my voice raw with anger and disbelief. “Estella, I’m sorry.” he said quickly, hands raised defensively. “I lost control. I—” “You lost control?” I cut him off, stepping back, needing the space to breathe. “What the fuck, Elliot? You just kissed me! What part of that seemed like a good idea to you? You took advantage of me while I was vulnerable! How dare you?” He tried to speak, but I wasn’t finished.
Estella POVThe snap of another branch startled me, and I spun around, heart hammering against my ribs. My breath hitched in the back of my throat, the sound bouncing off the trees around me.I squinted into the growing darkness, my eyes straining to find the source of the noise. The dark shadow darted past, and I let out a startled scream before realizing it was just a squirrel. A squirrel.My knees buckled, and I pressed a hand to my chest, willing my heartbeat to slow. “Get a grip,” I muttered shakily. My voice sounded hollow, barely audible against the howling wind.I pulled my jacket tighter, but it didn’t help. I was still very cold.Okay, think. What do I do now?“What do I do now?” I whispered again, my voice breaking.I looked around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It was useless. Every direction looked the same—dense trees and snow-covered ground.Maybe the mine workers would be leaving soon. Maybe I’d hear their trucks. Or maybe Elliot would realize I hadn’t made
Estella POVI couldn’t feel anything except the cold—no, it wasn’t just cold anymore. I don’t feel anything again. I was numb. It was emptiness I feel. My body had surrendered moments ago.It wasn’t painful anymore. It was almost…peacefulSo this is what dying feels like.I couldn’t move. My legs were curled awkwardly beneath me, the snow surrounding and pushing up around my body like a grave already dug. I tried to breathe, but each inhale was like a dagger in my chest.Is it supposed to hurt this much?The sky above was gray, swirling with clouds that blurred and shifted like watercolors bleeding together. I’d never noticed how beautiful the sky could be, even in a storm. My lips twitched, or at least I thought they did. Was I smiling? Crying? I couldn’t tell anymore.They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about dying. Alejandro’s face was the only image that came to mine. His intense gray gaze, the way he looked at me, touched me, worshiped me. The way his jaw cle
Alejandro POV I knew where she was the moment she left. Even before before her text lit up my phone—I need space—. I had been tracking her since she walked out of the house. Not because I didn’t trust her—I did. I just didn’t trust the world to keep her safe. After everything that had happened—being taken, attacked, and nearly killed—I’d taken precautions. The app I had made was custom-built, encrypted, and capable of tracking her phone even if it was off. I had this app made exclusively for us. As long as the device had been used in the last 24 hours and wasn’t wiped, it could be tracked. But I had never needed to check it ever since it was made. Not once. Until now The glowing blue dot on my screen, taking me through her day. She stopped at the lake first—her mother’s resting place. Then to Estrella Designs, likely trying to lose herself in work. And now, it stopped at the Halcyon Hotel. The Halcyon. My jaw tightened as I stared at her location. She wanted space, I und
Alejandro POVI didn’t moved from her side. Not once.She was laid in bed and wrapped in thick blankets, her skin still too cold, her breathing too shallow. The doctor had already come and gone, reassuring me that she was stable, that the hypothermia wasn’t severe enough to cause permanent damage. “She just needs warmth and more rest,” he’d said. As if that was supposed to make me feel better.Her lips were still pale. Her fingers barely curled around mine when I held them. She looked fragile.I sat beside her on the bed, gripping her hand, my thumb running over her knuckles absently. She hadn’t moved in hours. This was my fault. I should’ve gone after her sooner. I should’ve never let her out of my sight.I pushed back the image of finding her in the snow, barely breathing. My chest burned with frustration—at her, at myself, at everything.There was a soft knock on the door. I didn’t bother looking up.“Sir?” A hesitant voice. It was Mia. The damn maid—I’d almost forgotten she was
Five Years LaterEstella had insisted on having the windows open despite the doctors' protests—she needed to breathe something other than antiseptic and fear."Almost there," The matron encouraged from between her legs. "One more big push, Estella."Alejandro's hand was nearly crushed in her grip as another contraction seized her. The twins had decided to arrive three weeks early, sending them rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night."You're doing amazingly," Alejandro murmured against her temple. The entire pregnancy had been classified high-risk from the beginning.Estella bore down with a primal scream, feeling the first baby slide from her body."It's a boy!" The matron announced, lifting the wailing infant for them to see before placing him on Estella's chest.She touched her son's dark, wet hair. "Hello, little one,"The moment of joy was short-lived. The monitors beside her bed began beeping erratically."Blood pressure dropping," a nurse called out.The doctor in ch
The following weeks were filled with medical tests, therapy sessions, and small but significant milestones.Three weeks after waking, he took his first unassisted steps, gripping the parallel bars with so much intensity as he forced his atrophied muscles to cooperate. I watched from the sidelines, heart in my throat, as he pushed through pain that would have stopped a lesser man."Fuck," he growled through gritted teeth when his legs threatened to give out halfway through. "I'm not stopping."His physical therapist—a no-nonsense woman who'd quickly learned to match his intensity—nodded approvingly. "Two more steps. You can do two more."He did three before collapsing into the wheelchair afterward with sweat pouring down his face."Next time I'll do ten," he promised, breath coming in harsh pants.I handed him a towel, leaning in to whisper, "Watching you fight like this is incredibly sexy, you know."His exhausted laugh was all the reward I needed.By the six-week mark, he was walking
When we broke apart, I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent beneath the antiseptic hospital smell. "Don't ever scare me like that again," I whispered."I'll try not to make a habit of getting stabbed in the heart," he replied dryly."This isn't funny, Alejandro." I lifted my head to meet his gaze. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought our daughter would grow up without her father."His expression sobered. "I know. I'm sorry." He squeezed my hand weakly. "How bad was it?""Bad," I admitted. "The knife nicked your heart. You lost so much blood... They weren't sure you'd make it through the first surgery." My voice caught. "And then you didn't wake up. Days turned into weeks, and you just... stayed asleep.""I'm sorry," he repeated. "For putting you through that. For not being there for you and Arielle.""You're here now," I said. The door opened quietly, and we both looked up to see Dr. Matthews returning, accompanied by a neurologist I recognized from previous consultat
Two months laterThe hospital room had become my second home. The nurses knew my schedule better than I did—when I'd arrive each morning with fresh clothes for both of us, when I'd step out for coffee, which chair I preferred to sit in while reading aloud to Alejandro's unresponsive form.Sixty-one days of talking to someone who couldn't answer. Sixty-one days of watching for the slightest movement of an eyelid or the smallest twitch of a finger. Sixty-one days of hope slowly eroding into something that felt dangerously close to despair."The medical journal says coma patients show increased brain activity when family members speak to them," I said, turning the page of the medical text I'd been studying obsessively. "So I'm going to keep talking, even if I'm starting to repeat myself."Alejandro remained motionless. They'd removed his breathing tube last week when he started breathing on his own—a positive sign, Dr. Matthews had assured me. But his consciousness remained locked away,
"Aunt Eleanor," I gasped, shocked to see her. In the chaos, I'd almost forgotten she'd been injured in the initial car crash where Arielle was taken."You look worse than me," she said weakly, attempting a smile that turned into a wince.For some reason, it was the sight of her—battered but alive, just like the rest of us—that finally broke through the numbness I'd been hiding behind. The tears came suddenly and violently, sobs wrenching themselves from my chest as she wheeled herself closer, reaching out with her good arm to pull me against her."I was so scared," I admitted between sobs. "I thought we were all going to die. I was scared history was going to repeat itself self. And this time Arielle, Alejandro—""But you didn't," she reminded me. "You saved them both."I shook my head, glancing at Alejandro's still form. "I didn't save him. He's still—""Fighting," Eleanor cut in. "Just like he always has. Just like you have."I cried until I had no tears left, letting go of the fear
I must have dozed off despite my determination to stay awake, because the next thing I knew, someone was gently shaking my shoulder."Estella? Can you hear me?"I forced my heavy eyelids open to find Raul standing over me, his face lined with worry. Clara hovered behind him, her eyes red-rimmed."Raul," I croaked, my throat dry. "Alejandro?""He's out of surgery," Raul said. "It was touch and go for a while, but he made it through."Relief made me dizzy. "He's okay?"Raul and Clara exchanged glances."What aren't you telling me?" I demanded, suddenly fully awake.Raul sighed. "The damage was extensive. They repaired what they could, but... he's in a coma, Estella.""A coma? For how long?""They don't know," Clara said gently, stepping forward to take my hand. "All they said was the next 48 hours are critical."I struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain that shot through my body. "I need to see him.""You need to rest," Clara countered. "You're no good to him or Arielle if you collapse."
"BP's still dropping," one of the paramedics called as they loaded Alejandro into the ambulance. "We need to move!"I climbed in after them, collapsing onto the bench seat as the doors slammed shut."Arielle," I suddenly remembered, panic clawing at my throat. "My daughter—where is she?""Already en route to Memorial," one of the paramedics replied without looking up from Alejandro. "She's stable."That small mercy gave me the strength to stay upright as I watched them work frantically to keep my husband alive. They'd cut away his shirt completely now, revealing the full extent of his injuries. The wound in his abdomen wasn't as deep as I'd feared, but the chest wound—it was a different story altogether."Left hemothorax," the paramedic muttered. "Need to decompress."I watched in horror as they inserted a large needle between Alejandro's ribs. Blood gushed out immediately, filling a collection bag."What's happening?" I demanded."Blood's filling his chest cavity, compressing on his
He yanked the makeshift blade free and shoved Alejandro toward me with such force that we both crashed onto the wooden planks of the dock. I barely registered the pain through my ankle as I caught Alejandro's limp body."No, no, no," I sobbed, cradling him against me. His eyes fluttered, struggling to focus on my face as blood bubbled from his lips."Est...ella," he managed, each syllable a battle."Don't talk," I begged, pressing one hand against the stomach wound while frantically trying to stem the bleeding from his chest with the other. It was too much—too much blood, too many wounds.Marco staggered to the boat, his own strength clearly waning. He tossed the bloodied metal shard into the water and began fumbling with the ropes that secured the craft to the dock. His movements were clumsy, his injuries making the simple task laborious."Pressure," Alejandro whispered, his voice so faint I barely heard it. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his ashen lips crimso
We dove behind a heavy chest of drawers just as the explosion tore through the room. The blast was deafening, sending splinters of wood and plaster raining down on us. Dust filled up the air in the room.Through the ringing in my ears, I heard movement—Marco is making his escape in the confusion. I struggled to my feet, eyes stinging from the dust, and saw a shadow moving toward the far windows."Alejandro," I croaked, pointing.He was already up, blood trickling from another cut on his temple where debris had struck him. Together, we staggered through the devastated room toward the windows.Marco had reached what appeared to be a balcony beyond the shattered glass. As we emerged into the clean night air, I saw his plan—a rope, hastily secured to the balcony railing, leading down to the ground below. Near the edge of the property, barely visible in dark of the night was a small dock with what looked like a speedboat tied up."Stop!" Alejandro shouted, raising his gun.Marco turned, hi