ALEJANDRO"Running away again?" The words came out harsher than I intended, edged with irritation of her assuming and fleeing. Like she always did. She jerked her head up, eyes red-rimmed behind the oversized sunglasses she'd pushed up on her head."Fuck you," she spat, her voice raw.Not the reunion I was hoping for after last night. But at least she was looking at me, not running.I fought to keep my expression neutral, even as my insides twisted at the sight of her tear-stained face. She'd been crying—hard—and something told me it was because of me. I’m guessing she walked in on Vicky in my office just now. "You're an idiot,"Her eyes widened, fury replacing her tears. "Excuse me?""You heard me." I crossed my arms, studying her face. So goddamn beautiful, even when she looked like she wanted to tear my throat out. "Vicky is gay."She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened, then closed."What?" she finally managed."Vicky. The woman you saw in my office." I spelled it out slowly,
ESTELLARaul, Clara, and Enrique pile into the penthouse, the takeout’s already spread across the kitchen island—pizza, wings, some fancy-ass pasta Alejandro insisted on. Kai’s toddling around, tugging at Raul’s pant leg, and Clara’s got that tired-mom glow."Don't look at my face like that," Raul said, catching my expression. "We're not leaving you two alone for a minute. Not until we're sure you won't try to run off again.""Raul!" Clara scolded, but her eyes sparkled with amusement."What? We all know it's true." He dropped onto the couch, stretching his legs. "Alejandro's turned into a real pain in the ass the past five years. I'm not dealing with that again.""You're such an asshole," I laughed.“Still can’t believe you’re sittin’ here, alive,” Enrique says, shoving a slice of pepperoni into his mouth. He’s perched on a stool, elbows on the counter, grinning like a kid who just won a bet. “You know, you might actually be a superhero.”I huffed a laugh. “What?”Enrique smirked. “T
He carried me down the hall, never breaking the kiss, and kicked the door shut behind us. We fell onto his bed in a tangle of wet clothes and urgent hands. He pulled back just long enough to tear his shirt over his head."I can’t get enough of you," he groaned, burying his face in my neck.I arched into him, nails scraping down his back. "Show me how much."He took his time undressing me, kissing each newly exposed inch of skin like he was memorizing me all over again. When he reached the scar that ran across my ribs."I thought I would never get you back," he murmured against my skin.I threaded my fingers through his hair, guiding his face back to mine. "You did. I'm right here."No more words were needed after that.Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. One of his arm behind his head, the other lazily tracing circles on my hip. His fingers brushed over the faint scars marring my body—the ones I barely noticed anymore."You know,"
The first thing I felt was warmth. A slow, lazy kind of heat, tangled in sheets that still smelled like him. My body ached—the delicious kind of soreness. Alejandro was already awakesat at the edge of the bed, bare chested with his laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard.I stretched and watched him for a moment, admiring the way the morning light on his tanned skin, the way his dark hair was still a little messy from my hands last night."How the hell are you already working?" I mumbled, stretching again."Some of us don't need twelve hours of recovery after—"I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his head. He caught it mid-air, of course.“I booked our flight,” he said. “We leave tonight.”That had me sitting up, blinking the sleep from my eyes. “Tonight?”His gaze flicked to mine, studying. “You sure you’re okay flying so soon?”I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “I talked to a neurologist when I got my memories back.”Alejandro listened, completely focused. The kind
"Estella?" Eleanor's voice called through the door. "The wedding planners are here. They need decisions on flowers and table settings."Alejandro groaned, burying his face in my neck. "Tell them to come back next year."I smacked his shoulder and rolled out of bed, grabbing his discarded shirt from the floor. "Give us fifteen minutes, Aunt Eleanor!""Ten," she countered. "They have four other appointments today.""Jesus Christ," Alejandro muttered, throwing an arm over his eyes. "This is why I wanted to elope."I tossed his pants at him, hitting him square in the chest. "Up, De Luca. You wanted this big wedding too, remember?"He caught my wrist as I turned toward the bathroom, pulling me back onto the bed with a swift tug. "I want you. The rest is just details.""Details that cost a fortune," I reminded him, though my resolve weakened as his lips found my neck."Money well spent," he murmured against my skin.Another knock, more insistent this time."For fuck's sake," Alejandro growl
Today is our wedding day. Again. And I haven’t seen my groom since last night."It’s bad luck to see the bride," Eleanor had insisted, practically shoving him out the door after our rehearsal dinner."Since when do you care about superstitions?" I'd asked her."Since you two have the kind of luck that makes me think we need all the help we can get," she'd replied dryly.I sat up and ran my fingers through my tangled hair, a smile spreading across my face despite myself. A soft knock on the door interrupted my thoughts."Mamá! Can I come in?" Arielle's voice was pitched high with excitement."Of course, baby."The door flew open and my daughter burst in, already dressed. The pink dress made her look like a tiny fairy, complete with a crown of fresh flowers sitting slightly askew on her dark curls."Look at you!" I gasped, holding out my arms. "The most beautiful flower girl in all of Spain."She twirled, the tulle skirt floating around her like a cloud. "Do you think Papá will cry whe
I came back to consciousness with a gasp, the wail of sirens piercing through the fog in my brain. My wedding dress was filthy now, the white streaked with dirt and grass stains. The silk that had felt so perfect hours ago now no better than a rag."Estella!" Alejandro was kneeling beside me, his hands gripping my shoulders so tightly I could feel the tremor in his fingers. His face looked pale and rigid, but his eyes—God, his eyes burned with something that made my stomach drop."Arielle," I choked out, memories flooding back. The crash site. Eleanor covered in blood. The empty car.I tried to sit up too fast, and the world tilted before me. My hands clawed at Alejandro's arms as I fought to stand."Where is she? Did you find her?""Not yet. But we will."I pushed against his chest, struggling to my feet. My knees buckled instantly, and I would have fallen if he hadn't caught me. Behind him, I could see Eleanor being loaded into an ambulance, an oxygen mask still covering her face.
"It's suicide," Raul said, his face tight with concern as he watched Alejandro count stacks of euros and stuff them into a duffel bag."You think I don't know that?" Alejandro didn't look up, he continued counting. Ten million euros in cash. The bank manager had nearly had a heart attack when we'd called, but Alejandro's name opened doors even at 2 AM.I stood by the car in my dirt-stained wedding dress, numb and hollow. Three hours since the call. Two hours and forty minutes since we'd started scrambling. Twenty minutes left until the deadline."We can send a team," Enrique suggested, not for the first time. "Have them take positions around the factory before you arrive.""And risk Arielle's life?" I shook my head. "They said they'd kill her if they spotted anyone else.""They're going to try to kill you both anyway," Raul argued.No one disagreed with that assessment. The question hung in the air: Was it better to die trying to follow their rules, or die trying to outsmart them?"En
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