The warden escorted the woman in the plain trench coat and oversized scarf down a sterile hallway. Her heels echoed faintly against the cold, tiled floor.“Nurse Hartley,” he barked, stopping by a desk where a woman was flipping through a clipboard. “Visitor for Room 47.”Hartley frowned, her lips tightening. “Helena Valdez? I don’t know why anyone would want to see her.”The woman gave her a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “She deserves visitors too, doesn’t she?”Hartley snorted. “That one doesn’t need visitors—she needs an exorcist.”The warden frowned at her but said nothing. He handed the woman a visitor’s badge, his gaze on her scarf for a moment before nodding for Hartley to proceed.“I still think this is a mistake,” Hartley muttered as she led the woman down a narrow corridor.When they reached the final door, Hartley paused, glancing at the reinforced glass window. Inside, Helena Valdez sat slouched in her chair, her hair hanging in greasy strands around her face. He
Estella POVMy designs glistened under the spotlights like stars against the night sky. Each piece had been meticulously crafted—not just to be beautiful, but to tell a story.My story.I stood behind the curtains, clutching the edges of my speech cards, though I knew every word by heart. The murmurs of the crowd buzzed like white noise, a reminder of the faces waiting for me on the other side.“Ready?” Alejandro’s voice broke through the noise.I turned to find him standing beside me, his hand resting lightly on my back. His touch warm.“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, giving him a tight smile.“You’re going to blow them away,” he said with quiet confidence.The crowd shifted as I stepped onto the stage, every eye drawn to the spotlight that followed me. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the faint notes of the jazz band playing in the background.“This collection,” I began, the microphone amplifying my voice across the grand hall, “isn’t just about jewelry. It’s a tribute
Alejandro POVI’d been standing near the restroom door, glancing at my watch, debating whether to check on Estella. Ten minutes had passed since she’d gone in. Too long. I was about to knock when my phone buzzed in my pocket.“Boss, you need to get down here,” Enrique’s voice came through slightly annoyed. “There’s a woman causing a scene, trying to crash in without a pass. Says her name is Camila Ramirez.”Ah, shit. I muttered under my breath. “Just let her through.”He paused. “You sure? She’s—”“Let her through, Enrique.”I ended the call, glancing back at the bathroom door one last time before making my way toward the entrance. Camila and chaos were a package deal. If I didn’t handle her quickly, she’d take the whole night down with her.I found her at the main entrance, arms crossed and glaring daggers at Enrique, who stood as an unyielding wall between her and the event. She was in full dramatic mode, her foot tapping against the marble floor in exaggerated annoyance.When her e
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
I opened my eyes, feeling the sting before I even tried to move. The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, too bright, almost mocking. My body ached in places I couldn’t name, and the sheets felt like a trap, suffocating me. I glanced to the side, half-expecting to see Marco still lying there, but he was gone. Of course he was gone. I forced myself to sit up, wincing as I felt the bruises starting to form. My mind wandered, replaying fragments of last night, but I pushed them away. I wouldn’t break now, not over him. But when I stood, each step across the bedroom felt like a betrayal. This room, these walls—they used to feel safe. I stumbled out of bed, holding onto the wall for support as I made my way through the room. The house, once warm and filled with love, felt foreign and cold now. I quickly showered and changed avoiding the mirror all through. I passed by the nursery—the room we’d painted together when we were happy, laughing, believing in a future that now seemed a
Tears blurred my vision, but I could still make out the dim glow of streetlights outside the cab , casting shadows that only deepened the ache in my chest. I hugged myself, leaning into the cold leather seat, barely holding it together as the city blurred past into faded memories and fractured hopes I wish I could forget . Each sob ripped through me, leaving a raw emptiness in its wake, as if I’d drained some part of me I’d never get back. A tissue appeared over the seat. I looked up, surprised, meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They were oddly warm, though lined with the kind of weariness that comes from years of late nights and endless fares. I took the tissue with a shaking hand, dabbing at the mess on my cheeks, knowing there was no way a thin piece of paper could fix what was broken in me. He adjusted his rearview mirror, and our eyes met for a heartbeat. Something about him looked familiar, as if I’d seen him before, but my mind was too foggy to piece it toget
The world slipped back into focus, muffled sounds of machines and soft beeps dragging me awake. My eyes felt heavy, and I blinked slowly, disoriented. The antiseptic scent of the hospital hit me, making my stomach twist. I tried to shift, only to feel a dull ache radiate through me, and that’s when I noticed the IV drip attached to my handDehydrated,” a distant voice said. “Her condition could have worsened had she remained untreated.”Condition? What condition?I blinked slowly, confusion clouding my thoughts as I fought to stay conscious. Why was I in a hospital? Who had brought me here?Darkness pulled me under again.When I resurfaced, the room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of paper. “Finally awake?”I turned my head, eyes landing on a man leaning against the door, arms folded. Alejandro. His voice was smooth but detached, every syllable dripping with a kind of restrained arrogance that made my skin prickle.I tried to push myself up, but my body protested. “What… happen
The rain lashed against my face like tiny needles, soaking through my thin shirt as I stumbled out of the hospital doors. My hair clung to my face, and my sneakers squelched with every step. I didn’t know where I was going—I just knew I needed to keep moving. Anywhere but here. My steps faltered when a wave of nausea washed over me. This is too much for one day. Kicked out. Arrested. Pregnant. I laughed bitterly, my hand instinctively pressing against my flat stomach. “Pregnant,” I whispered to no one. It was absurd. Maybe the doctors were wrong. Maybe fate wasn’t this cruel. But it was. Of course, it was. A baby. A child. After years of Marco’s abuse,his insults, of his mother’s cruel words, of being called barren—a curse in heels. And now, when he’d thrown me out like garbage, this child decided to show up. I laughed again, louder this time, the sound strangled and raw. “Unbelievable,” I muttered, shaking my head. I was an orphan. I had no one except my adoptive parents who ra
Alejandro POVI’d been standing near the restroom door, glancing at my watch, debating whether to check on Estella. Ten minutes had passed since she’d gone in. Too long. I was about to knock when my phone buzzed in my pocket.“Boss, you need to get down here,” Enrique’s voice came through slightly annoyed. “There’s a woman causing a scene, trying to crash in without a pass. Says her name is Camila Ramirez.”Ah, shit. I muttered under my breath. “Just let her through.”He paused. “You sure? She’s—”“Let her through, Enrique.”I ended the call, glancing back at the bathroom door one last time before making my way toward the entrance. Camila and chaos were a package deal. If I didn’t handle her quickly, she’d take the whole night down with her.I found her at the main entrance, arms crossed and glaring daggers at Enrique, who stood as an unyielding wall between her and the event. She was in full dramatic mode, her foot tapping against the marble floor in exaggerated annoyance.When her e
Estella POVMy designs glistened under the spotlights like stars against the night sky. Each piece had been meticulously crafted—not just to be beautiful, but to tell a story.My story.I stood behind the curtains, clutching the edges of my speech cards, though I knew every word by heart. The murmurs of the crowd buzzed like white noise, a reminder of the faces waiting for me on the other side.“Ready?” Alejandro’s voice broke through the noise.I turned to find him standing beside me, his hand resting lightly on my back. His touch warm.“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, giving him a tight smile.“You’re going to blow them away,” he said with quiet confidence.The crowd shifted as I stepped onto the stage, every eye drawn to the spotlight that followed me. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the faint notes of the jazz band playing in the background.“This collection,” I began, the microphone amplifying my voice across the grand hall, “isn’t just about jewelry. It’s a tribute
The warden escorted the woman in the plain trench coat and oversized scarf down a sterile hallway. Her heels echoed faintly against the cold, tiled floor.“Nurse Hartley,” he barked, stopping by a desk where a woman was flipping through a clipboard. “Visitor for Room 47.”Hartley frowned, her lips tightening. “Helena Valdez? I don’t know why anyone would want to see her.”The woman gave her a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “She deserves visitors too, doesn’t she?”Hartley snorted. “That one doesn’t need visitors—she needs an exorcist.”The warden frowned at her but said nothing. He handed the woman a visitor’s badge, his gaze on her scarf for a moment before nodding for Hartley to proceed.“I still think this is a mistake,” Hartley muttered as she led the woman down a narrow corridor.When they reached the final door, Hartley paused, glancing at the reinforced glass window. Inside, Helena Valdez sat slouched in her chair, her hair hanging in greasy strands around her face. He
Estella POVThe bathroom door opening pulled my gaze from the sketches in my lap. Alejandro stepped out, a towel slung low around his hips, water trailing down his chest in teasing rivulets.My mouth went dry.He didn’t glance at me immediately, busy ruffling a hand through his damp hair. The movement flexed the muscles in his arm, and for a split second, I forgot how to breathe.When his gaze finally shifted to me, his lips curved.“Caught you staring.”“I wasn’t staring,” I shot back, though my voice lacked conviction.“Right,” he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You’re just sitting there, wide-eyed, admiring the ceiling?”I glared at him, hoping the heat rushing to my face wasn’t obvious. “Put some clothes on, Alejandro.”“Careful,” he said, his smirk deepening. “You couldn’t hold it in your first night here.”I rolled my eyes, but my stomach fluttered at the memory. “You were wearing shorts underneath.”“Doesn’t mean you weren’t tempted. He said as he grabbed a p
Estella POVThe soft creak of the floorboards must have woken him.I looked up, startled to find Alejandro watching me, his dark eyes alert despite the dim light of the room. His voice, rough from sleep, broke the silence. “What are you doing?”He was stretched out on the couch, looking far too large and uncomfortable in the cramped space. I ignored him and knelt by his feet, opening the first aid kit I’d grabbed from the hall closet. “Stay still,” I said, reaching for his ankle.He shifted, pulling his foot away slightly. “Answer me first.”I grabbed the leg. “Let me,” I said, meeting his gaze briefly before returning my focus to the bite.His resistance faltered, and he leaned back, his eyes never leaving me.I opened the first aid kit beside me, the soft click of the latch the only sound between us.The wound was worse than I thought. The snake’s fangs had left two jagged punctures, the skin around them red and swollen. The faintest bruise was starting to form. I cleaned the area
Alejandro POVEnrique met me by the door.“They’ve been making moves lately,” he said. “We need to strike back.”I clenched my fists, my gaze fixed on the door. “Not yet. Estella comes first. I need to make sure she’s safe.”“I get it. But we can’t let this go unanswered. They need to know they can’t touch us without consequences.”I didn’t look at him. My focus stayed on the silent closed door.“I know,” I said. “And they’ll pay for this. Every fucking one of them. But not yet. Not until I know she’s okay.”The doctor stepped out of Estella’s room, pulling the door closed behind him. His face was calm, but I could tell he wasn’t thrilled with what he had to say.“She’s sleeping now,” he said. “I gave her a sedative. The shock was too much for her.”I nodded, my jaw tight. The image of her shaking, screaming, scrambling onto the bed to escape the snakes was burned into my mind. She hadn’t even noticed when I held her. Her fear had taken over everything“She’ll be fine,” the doctor rea
EstellaHelena was claiming insanity.A guard supposedly found her screaming, tearing at her hair, smearing blood on the walls. Then she’d gotten into a fight in prison—some poor inmate ended up with a cracked jaw—and now she was being moved to a mental institution.“She’ll do just anything to save her own skin,”But Marco? He wasn’t escaping anything.The trial was dragging on, but every day chipped away at what little hope he had left. The trial wasn’t over, but the evidence was damning, and the prosecution had made sure of it. Marco would not see the light of day for years, maybe decades. The verdict wasn’t in yet, but everyone already knew—he was finished.And me?I had other things to focus on.I smoothed the gold dress over my hips, turning in front of the mirror. The fabric clung to my curves in all the right places, shimmering as it caught the light. The deep V at the front was bold, but not over the top. Sexy, but still classyThe brooch in my hair—a piece from Estrella Desi
Alejandro POVWhat the fuck is wrong with me?I never expected it to be like this.Marry Marco Valdez’s wife. That had been the plan. Take the one thing Marco thought was his, use her as a pawn to destroy him,fuck her maybe then move on. A hit and run kind of deal.It wasn’t supposed to be this.I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair as the boardroom buzzed with voices. A meeting was in full swing, but I wasn’t listening. My mind had drifted, again.To her.Estella.When I saw her for the first time at that gala—wrapped in a red dress, her hair falling over one shoulder—her chin tilted up like she was daring anyone to cross her. I thought she’d be another spoiled, arrogant trophy wife—with more credit cards than brains.That would’ve made it easier.She should’ve been easy to use.But she wasn’t.Instead, she’d thrown my plan back in my face, time and time again. She wasn’t spoiled, and she wasn’t weak. She was sharp, stubborn, and maddening as hell. And now—now she
“You did good today,” he said when we stepped into the elevator.I nodded, my arms crossed over my chest. My testimony had been brief and to the point, my words replaying over and over in my head. It was the first time I’d stood in a courtroom as a victim even though it was a private hearing.“Thanks,”He didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t look at him.When the elevator doors slid open, I stepped out first, the click of my heels echoing in the hallway.I didn’t wait for him as I headed into the penthouse. I’d already removed my heels by the time he walked in, shutting the door behind him.“You’ve been quiet since we left the hearing,” he said, watching me from across the room.“I’m tired,” I replied, kicking my shoes into the corner. “It’s been a long day.”“You’re lying,” he said simply.I froze for a second before forcing myself to move again, walking toward the kitchen. “I’m not lying,” I said, opening the fridge. “I just don’t feel like talking.”His hand caught the door befor