Estella We were still on the stage, under the blinding lights and sharp gazes of the elite, all I could focus on was Vivian. She was seething, her face twisted in rage as she lunged toward me. Her voice was shrill as she screamed, “You think you can humiliate me like this? You don’t know who you’re messing with, you bitch!.“Alejandro moved to my side in an instant, his hand firm on my waist. The heat in his eyes told me he was one second away from ripping Vivian apart. “Calm the fuck down and get lost, Vivian. That’s enough.”But she wasn’t calming down. If anything, Alejandro’s intervention seemed to spur her on. Her wild eyes fixed on me, and she sneered, “Of course, your knight in shining armor. Always rushing to save you, isn’t he? Just so you know you’re nothing without him!”She grabbed a glass from the nearby refreshment table. Before anyone could stop her, she hurled it with all her might—straight at me.“Estella!” Alejandro roared, stepping in front of me.The glass shatter
The tension in the room thickened as Vivian’s father strode in, his presence commanding every ounce of attention. His tailored suit was impeccable, his silver hair gleaming under the spotlights. He scanned the room, his piercing gaze settling on Vivian, who was still struggling against the guards.“Daddy!” Vivian’s voice cracked as she broke free from their grip, staggering toward him like a child seeking refuge. “Look at what they’re doing to me! She humiliated me in front of everyone. She’s lying daddy! You can’t let them treat me like this.”“Vivian.” His voice was a low rumble, full of warning. “Enough.”Her confidence faltered for the briefest moment before she doubled down, her voice rising hysterically. “Enough? You don’t understand! She did this all… to ruin our company. Estella thinks she’s so perfect—she thinks she can just waltz in and—”“Stop.” His single word silenced her tirade, leaving her mouth agape. The crowd murmured in disbelief, the sight of the mighty Vivian Cadw
Estella POVI walked through the remnants of the event, seeing guests off and thanking them for sticking with me, believing me.I was about to suggest to Alejandro we leave when Elliot Harrington appeared in my path.Elliot Harrington, of Vanveau, the company that had yanked their partnership the second the rumors started. His cocky smile was a reminder of how easily people could turn on you when it suited them“Well well Estella,” he said. “I have to say, tonight’s event was nothing short of extraordinary.”“Extraordinary enough to make you regret pulling out of our deal?” I replied, arching a brow.His smile faltered for a split second, but he recovered quickly. “A lapse in judgment, I admit. One I deeply regret. That’s why I’m here—to assure you that Vanveau is still very interested in partnering with Estrella Designs. The deal stands if you’re willing.”I crossed my arms, keeping my face neutral. “Funny. I seem to remember you being the first to jump ship when the rumors started.
Estella POV“Let’s just go home,” I said. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and I’m just… done.”Alejandro shot me a sidelong glance. “When was the last time you let yourself just stop and breathe?”I huffed out a small laugh. “I’ll stop and breathe as soon as we get home.”“Then it’s my job to make sure you get it,” he said firmly, wrapping an arm around my waist.As we neared the corner where Clara stood, I spotted her slouched against the wall, arms crossed.“Hey Clara?” I asked, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”She straightened immediately, plastering on a forced smile. “Yeah, fine.”I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t look fine.”“I’m fine,” she insisted, waving me off.I hesitated, my concern growing, but before I could press further, she shook her head and chirped, “ Are you going? Just go and have a rest. I’ll handle everything.”I studied her, then gave a small nod. I will make sure to find out what is up with her. “Make sure everyone leaves safely, okay? And… I will get Raul stay
Estella“She just collapsed, Alejandro! One minute she was fine, and the next—oh my God, what do I do? I called an ambulance, but they’re taking so long. She’s just lying there!”Alejandro pinched the bridge of his nose, his jaw clenched as he paced. “Camila, just take a deep breath. Did you check her pulse? Is she still breathing?”“I-I didn’t want to touch her,” she stammered. “What if I make it worse? I don’t know what to do, Alejandro. I’m scared. She hasn’t even opened her eyes! Please what should I do?”“Stay with her,” he ordered, his voice firm. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”Alejandro’s expression was unreadable as he slid his phone into his pocket, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. I know what he is feeling. He told Lucia is like a mother to him. Losing her is like reliving the lost of his mother.“You’re going?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.“Yes,” he said shortly, grabbing his keys from his pocket.I stepped in front of him. “I’ll come
Estella Mia’s blank stare still stuck with me as I walked back into the house, locking the door behind me. The whole house was silent, the kind that made every creak of the floorboards echo louder than it should. What the hell was Mia doing out there? Sleepwalking? Spying? I couldn’t figure it out, but the way she just stood there, staring, still gave me chills. I tried to shake off the thought. She’d been weird since the moment she started working here. I sent Alejandro a quick message: Are you almost there? Is she okay? I sighed, heading to the bedroom. My dress clung to me uncomfortably after the long day, and I peeled it off, tossing it onto the chair. Sliding into the bathroom, I turned on the shower, letting the hot water soothe my tense muscles. The warm spray did little to calm my thoughts. My mind was a whirlwind of suspicion and unease. I had just been proposed to. I should be euphoric, floating on air, but instead, I felt restless. When I stepped out of the shower,
Warning: This chapter contains graphic content, including self-harm, that may be triggering for some readers.If you're struggling with mental health issues, please take care of yourself and consider skipping this chapter.Alejandro POVThe snow started falling a few miles away from the estate, covering the road and slowing my progress. It hadn’t been snowing when I left home, but now it was heavy flakes covering the windshield and muffling the sound of my tires on the secluded drive.I cursed under my breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter as I turned into the long, winding driveway of the mansion. This place was old money through and through: a large plot of land in the middle of nowhere, towering oak trees lining the path, and a mansion that looked more like a fortress.The entire property’s lights were out, save for a faint glow coming from a single window on the second floor.When I reached the entrance, I slammed the car door shut and jogged to the grand stone front steps.
Estella POVI didn’t sleep. Not a wink. Not for a single second.I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of the last twenty-four hours like a movie .The images were stamped into my memory. Camila’s hand on his cheek. Their lips meeting. The date scrawled on the back of each one. The same damn ring.My hand instinctively went to the ring. I traced the cool metal with trembling fingers. I couldn’t take it off. Not yet. My love for Alejandro was too tangled with my anger. And despite everything, I wanted him to walk through that door, to explain, to make me feel safe again. But it was almost noon, and he still hadn’t called.Each unanswered text, each unreturned call, was like a blade twisting in my chest. At first, I worried. Was he okay? Had something happened? Something in me tells me that Camila’s story about Lucia falling is all a sham. But as the hours dragged on, my concern changed into anger.He lied to me. He looked me in the eyes, kissed me, tol
"Female, late twenties to early thirties, severe trauma, possible internal injuries." The paramedic's voice cut through the activity of Ospedale San Giovanni's emergency department. "Pregnant, approximately six weeks. Found at sea, suspected plane crash survivor."Dr. Isabella Rossetti's hands moved with practiced efficiency as they transferred the unconscious woman from the rescue boat's stretcher. "Core temperature?""Stabilized during the transport. But she's been unconscious since retrieval.""Any form of ID?""Nothing." The paramedic handed over a sodden envelope. "Just this. The fisherman's wife who found her insisted we save it."Isabella tucked the envelope into her coat pocket, focusing on her patient. The woman's face was a map of bruises and lacerations, dark hair matted with salt and blood. But beneath the injuries, there was a striking beauty that even trauma couldn't hide."Get her to CT," Isabella ordered. "I want a full trauma workup. And page Dr. Marino from obstetri
Third Person Pov(Day of Crash)The fishing boat struggled against the increasingly violent waves, Paolo's weathered hands white-knuckled on the wheel. In the distance, the silhouette of Porto Manarola emerged through the mist."Her fever's rising, Paolo!" Maria pressed another blanket against the unconscious woman, whose breathing had grown erratic. The stranger's skin burned despite her sodden clothes, concerning Maria deeply.A wave crashed over the bow, drenching them. The young woman moaned, her head thrashing weakly from side to side, her eyelids fluttered, revealing disoriented eyes that couldn't seem to focus."Almost there," Maria soothed, though she doubted the stranger could hear her. "Just hold on, child."As they approached the harbor, figures appeared on the dock—word had spread through their little village. Paolo leaned on the horn, three sharp blasts that carried their urgency across the water."Sofia!" Paolo shouted to the harbor master's wife as they drew close enough
Third Person POV"Paolo, you're going to scare away all the fish with your complaining!" Maria Ricci swatted her husband's arm, her weathered hand connecting with surprising force for a woman in her sixties.Paolo Ricci scowled, adjusting his faded cap against the morning sun. "Woman, I've been fishing these waters for fifty years. I know what I'm talking about." He gestured toward the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. "Storm's coming. We should head back.""We just got here!" Maria protested, reaching for another piece of bait. "The nets are barely wet."Their small fishing boat rocked gently on the Mediterranean waves, five miles off the coast of their village, Porto Manarola. They'd been married for forty-six years, and every morning for the last twenty—since Paolo's retirement—they'd taken this boat out together."The nets are empty again." Paolo spat over the side of the weathered fishing boat, his leathery face creased with frustration. "Third day this week. Something's wron
Alejandro Three hours later, we're back at the field office. Marco's in surgery, his chances are slim to none. Claudia is in interrogation, and from what I can see through the one-way glass, she’s breaking. Mascara streaks down her tear-streaked face as she sobs her way through her confession to Rivera.I don’t feel satisfaction.I don’t feel anything.Rivera leans in. “It was Marco’s plan, wasn’t it?”Claudia nods frantically. “Yes—yes, all of it. He was obsessed with destroying her and getting revenge on Alejandro.”Rivera pushes harder. “The plane. Tell me all you know about the plane.”Claudia swipes at her wet cheeks, inhaling shakily. “It was Torres—he’s the one who actually did the work. The navigation system, the fail-safe, everything. It was meant to go down over the ocean.”"And Estella De Luca?"Claudia's face crumples and her breath stutters. "We need to know," Rivera's voice carries through the speakers, "was there any possibility of survival?"Claudia hesitates, then
---The private airfield glows under spotlights. Federal vehicles surround the perimeter. No chances of escape this time."They're still here," Calloway confirms, lowering binoculars. "The jet is on the tarmac. Two subjects moving equipment."I strain to see through the darkness. "Claudia and Marco?""Looks like it.” Calloway confirms. “They've got no idea we're here."Rivera stands nearby, giving the final instructions to the tactical team. “We want them alive. They might be our only chance to find out what really happened to Mrs. De Luca.”I check my own weapon. No one comments on a civilian being armed. The Bureau has long since given up trying to contain me. Some battles aren't worth fighting."Ready?" Rivera asks.I nod. I am beyond ready.The moment we move, the airfield erupts.Engines roar as tactical vehicles tear across the tarmac. Spotlights blind. Megaphones blare out commands.“FBI! HANDS IN THE AIR!”Claudia stops mid-step at the base of the jet’s stairs, her hands shoot
The motel is a shithole on the edge of town, the kind of place where people come to disappear—sometimes permanently. Yellow crime scene tape flutters in the night breeze, barely keeping the stench of rot and drug inside. Local cops mill around, throwing irritated glances at the federal agents invading their territory.I push past them all. Nobody tries to stop me.The room stinks of cheap whiskey and death. Carlos Ramos lies sprawled on the bed, a gaping hole where the back of his head used to be, blood splattered against the peeling wallpaper. The gun is still clutched in his stiff fingers."Don't touch anything," Rivera warns, too late.I'm already moving, scanning the room. "Where's the note?"A detective points to a plastic evidence bag on the nightstand. Inside, a cheap hotel notepad with three words scrawled in shaky handwriting:I’m sorry, Carlos.I snatch the bag, turning it over in my hands. The ink is smudged, the strokes uneven. Writing under duress. Fear.“Sorry for what?”
The church is packed. Black designer suits and dresses. Photographers lining the street. I ignore them all, striding through the doors in jeans and a rumpled shirt, a month's worth of beard on my face.The service has already started. A priest drones on about loss and heaven. Empty words over an empty casket.Every head turns when I walk in. Whispers ripple through the crowd. The great Alejandro De Luca, finally broken.I don't give a fuck what they think."Mr. De Luca," the male agent says, extending his hand. I ignore it. He cleared his throat “ I am Agent Calloway and this is my partner Agent Rivera.”"You're taking a chunk of my time. Talk."They exchange glances. "We should discuss this privately."I push past them to a small building outside the church. They follow, closing the door behind them."We have reason to believe Marco Valdez was involved in sabotaging your wife's plane," Calloway says.My blood runs cold, then hot. "Tell me something I don't already know.""We found of
Alejandro One Month LaterI slam my fist into the wall, pain shooting up my arm. I welcome it. Anything to feel something other than this fucking hole in my chest.The TV drones on in the background, some society reporter standing outside the church where they're burying a goddamn empty casket. _"...the tragic death of Estella De Luca has shocked the business world. Sources close to the family say her husband, billionaire Alejandro De Luca, is too overcome with grief to attend today's service..."_I grab the remote and hurl it at the screen. Glass shatters, sparks fly. The sudden silence is almost worse.Someone knocks. I ignore it.The door opens anyway. Raúl. "Boss," he says quietly, stepping over broken furniture. My office looks like a war zone. "The funeral's starting. People are asking where you are."I don't turn to face him. My eyes remain fixed on the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Somewhere out there, she's alive. I feel it in my fucking bones."Let them
EstellaThe private jet climbs higher into the sky, each mile taking me further from him, stretching the distance between us. Between me and the only man I have ever truly loved.I press my forehead against the cool window, watching as everything disappears beneath the clouds. Somewhere down there, I know he’s still standing on that airstrip, watching this plane carry his heart away. I wonder if he regrets it. If he wants to take it all back.My fingers trace the edge of his letter, still sealed. I couldn’t bring myself to open it yet."Ms De Luca?" The flight attendant appears with a gentle smile. "Would you like some water? We have about four hours until we reach the Amalfi Coast."Four hours. In four hours, I'll be in a foreign country, alone except for the two security men Alejandro insisted on sending with me. They sit several rows ahead."No, thank you." My voice sounds strange to my own ears.The cabin is quiet except for the hum of the engine. A middle aged businessman types o