6: A Stranger’s Sanctuary

I stepped inside and paused. This was Alejandro’s home? I couldn’t hide my shock, my gaze sweeping the modern but modest interior. It wasn’t what I imagined for someone like him—someone who oozed arrogance and power at every turn. I expected more. A penthouse, a sprawling mansion, maybe. A villa with towering columns. And an army of staff at his beck and call Instead, this was sleek, modern, and painfully understated.

“You live here?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Alejandro turned from where he was shrugging off his jacket, smirking as he caught the disbelief in my voice. “Not impressed, princess?”

I narrowed my eyes, already regretting speaking. “It’s not what I expected, that’s all. And don’t call me princess,”

“Well, too bad this isn’t a replica of your husband’s mansion,” he shot back.

I bristled, heat creeping up my neck. “I just didn’t expect…” I trailed off, biting back the urge to say something I’d regret. He didn’t need more ammunition.

“Oh? And what exactly did you expect?” His gaze swept over me, his smirk deepening. “Something garish and dripping in gold? Or is your taste just as questionable as your life choices?”

“If I wanted advice on taste, you’d be my last pick.”

He shrugged, completely unfazed. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to disappoint you again.”

The urge to throw something at the back of his perfectly styled head was strong. Instead, I clenched my fists and followed him as he strode down the hall, my heels barely making a sound against the marble floor.

The house was…nice. I couldn’t lie. It was a two-story modern unit, with clean lines and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The walls were painted in muted tones, the furniture sleek and minimalistic. It was the kind of place I would’ve admired in magazines, but there was something missing. It felt cold, lifeless. Like no one actually lived here.

“You’re staring,” Alejandro said, breaking my thoughts.

I turned sharply to find him watching me, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of something in his eyes. Annoyance? Amusement? I couldn’t tell.

“I wasn’t—” I stopped myself and shook my head. “Forget it.”

“Gladly.” He gestured toward the hallway. “Your room’s this way.”

He stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a spacious guest room.

I peek inside. The bed was neatly made, the linens crisp and white. A single armchair sat by the window, and a small table held a vase of fresh flowers.

“There’s an intercom by the bed,” Alejandro said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “You need something, you press it. But let me be clear: this isn’t a hotel, and I’m not your concierge.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” I shot back, stepping past him into the room. His presence was suffocating, even when he wasn’t speaking.

“And yet, here you are.” His voice dripped with mockery, and when I turned, he was smirking again. “Funny how life works.”

I sucked in a breath, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he rattled me. “Don’t worry, Alejandro. I have no intention of overstaying my welcome.”

“Good. We understand each other, then.” He straightened, stepping back into the hall. “And, Estella? Try not to wander. I’d hate for you to get lost.”

Before I could respond, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him

I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where he’d been, anger and humiliation simmering just beneath the surface. I hated him. I hated that I was here. I hated that I had no choice. And most of all, I hated that, despite everything, he still had this maddening ability to crawl under my skin and stay there

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him exactly where he could shove his attitude, but the exhaustion weighing me down was too much. I let out a shaky breath and sank onto the bed.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my spiral. I straightened. “Come in.”

A woman entered, middle-aged with kind eyes. She carried a tray of food in one hand and a raffia basket in the other. “Good evening, Miss” she said warmly, setting the tray on the table by the window. “Dinner’s here, and Mr. Alejandro asked me to bring you some clothes. He thought you might prefer to eat in tonight.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you,” I said softly.

She gestured to the basket. “There are some essentials in there. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

I nodded, my eyes dropping to my torn blouse. My fingers tightened on the fabric, heat crawling up my neck. She noticed. Of course, she noticed. But, thankfully, she didn’t say anything

After a long shower, I scrubbed my skin until it was raw. The basket held a plain lilac nightgown, soft to the touch, but no underwear. I sighed, deciding to go without. It was better than putting my dirty clothes back on.

I dressed and ate in silence, forcing down the food despite the knot in my stomach.

My thoughts kept circling back to Alejandro. Why was he doing this? What did he want from me? I don’t have enough ammunition for him against Marco. He clearly wasn’t the type to act out of kindness. This had to be a game to him, some calculated move. As much as I despise Marco, I don’t really have the energy to act as a pawn again.

The silence of the house was suffocating. After dinner, I wandered aimlessly, my bare feet padding against the cold floors. The place was immaculate, every corner polished and pristine. But there was no warmth. No life. It felt more like a showroom than a home.

As I wandered, something caught my eye—a stack of piano books on a shelf. Strange. I couldn’t picture Alejandro playing the piano. Maybe they belonged to someone else.

I was still staring when I heard it—the faint sound of splashing. Curious, I followed the noise to the back of the house, where a pool stretched out beneath the night sky. Alejandro was swimming laps.

I shouldn’t have stopped to watch. But I did.

He cut through the water with an almost hypnotic precision, every stroke controlled, calculated. Just like him.

And then, because the universe hated me, I lost my footing and stumbled on a rack. My foot hit something, and the sound was just loud enough to draw his attention. He stopped mid-lap, his dark eyes locking onto mine

I froze, heat rushing to my face as I realized he’d caught me staring.

“Enjoying the view?” he called.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool. “I’ve seen better.”

He laughed as he swam to the edge and pulled himself out of the pool. Water dripped from his body, his muscles rippling in the dim light. I tried not to look, but my gaze betrayed me, traveling lower before I could stop myself.

“Then why are you still standing there?” He asked, grabbing a towel.

“I was just leaving,” I said sharply, turning on my heel.

“Sure you were,” he called after me. “Don’t trip on your way out, princess.”

My jaw clenched, but I didn’t respond.

I made it halfway back to the guest room before the sound of his footsteps caught up to me. He didn’t even try to mask his approach, each step deliberate, echoing against the sterile walls.

“What do you want now?” I snapped, spinning around to face him. He stood there, towel slung low around his hips, water still dripping from his hair, and that smirk—God, I hated it—firmly in place.

“Nothing,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe like this was his grand stage and I was just the audience. “But you’re wandering around my house like you own it, so I thought I’d check in. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?” I folded my arms, matching his look with one of my glares.

He raised an eyebrow. “For the room. For the food. For taking you in.” He pushed off the frame, closing the distance between us. “You could at least pretend to be grateful.

I lifted my chin, refusing to back down. “I’m not a prisoner, Alejandro. And let me make one thing clear—I didn’t ask for your pity.”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. Instead, he reached past me for a bottle of water on the table. I flinched, thinking he was reaching for me, and stumbled back.

He caught me before I fell, his hands steadying me. The sudden closeness made my heart race, and then—his towel slipped.

My face burned as I quickly shut my eyes. “Oh my God,” I muttered.