I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my heart hammering against my ribs It was hard to keep up. The SUVs swerved through traffic like they owned the damn road. My foot pressed harder on the accelerator. “No way I’m losing you,” I muttered, weaving through cars and ignoring the angry honks behind me. As they made a sharp left turn, I jerked the wheel, tires screeching in protest. One of the SUVs slowed, and for a split second, I thought they might have noticed me. My stomach churned as I eased off the gas. But then it picked up speed again, and I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus. The license plate of the last SUV came into view. I read it aloud under my breath, committing it to memory: GIA-7546. “GIA,” I frowned. “Global Investigative Authority? What the hell is this?” The convoy finally pulled into a massive building that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a government conspiracy movie. I rolled to a stop at a safe distance and watched as the agents drag
Stay out of this? Like hell, I would.I slipped into the estate through the hidden safety door Alejandro had shown me shortly after our fake engagement. He’d called it a precaution, just in case. “When you know your exits, no one can trap you,” he’d said.The safety door leads to the panic room was concealed behind an unassuming panel of ivy-covered wall, located at the rear of the property. From there, a narrow hallway led straight into the main house. He’d made me memorize the sequence to unlock it, “just in case.” Now, I was glad I’d paid attention.My steps echoed softly against the cold floor. The estate loomed silent and empty, wrapped in yellow tape and barricades like some distorted gift.No patrol cars. No techs combing the place. Just eerie quiet. If this was supposed to be an active investigation scene, it didn’t feel like oneI crouched by the edge of the patio, pulling off the disposable shoe covers I’d worn to avoid leaving tracks. They’d probably already dusted the plac
The cameras were no ordinary models. As their sleek website boasted, had thermal sensors, night vision, and a self-contained storage unit immune to tampering. If they’d been active during the timeline of the supposed murder, the footage was my best shot at proving Alejandro’s innocence. But there was a catch. A problem. I couldn’t just call SafeHouse Systems to extract the footage—not without alerting the GIA and making this whole thing blow up before I had concrete proof, before I get what I needed. I have to do it myself. But I needed someone who could tell me what to do. Alejandro always said you couldn’t fight fire with kindness; you needed a bigger flame. Right now, I was willing to burn everything to the ground if it meant saving him. I couldn’t do it alone. I pulled out my phone, hesitating before dialing. I hated making this call, but desperate times didn’t leave room for pride. “Ricky?” I whispered into the line once it connected. “Estella? It’s been years. What—” ” I
She crossed her legs and leaned back in the plush couch , her perfectly pink manicured fingers cradling a glass of red wine. The screen before her cast a cold glow across her face as she tapped her phone screen.He had sent her a fresh batch of photos.“Even the best fall, don’t they?” she murmured, smirking as she swiped through the images.A man, his face obscured, walked into Alejandro’s estate carrying a duffel bag. Another photo showed the same man dragging a limp body toward the guest bedroom, staged by the bed.And finally, the pièce de résistance—a shot of Alejandro getting arrested.She chuckled softly, sipping her wine. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven’t you, Alejandro?”The irony was almost too delicious. She swiped back to the earlier photos, zooming in to appreciate every detail. The careful precision with which the evidence was staged—it was flawless.But it wasn’t the craftsmanship that brought a wicked smile to her lips. No, it was the realization of
“Helena…” Chief Mark Parker sounded like he was pleading, though for what, he wasn’t sure.She watched him squirm, the corner of her mouth lifting into a wicked smirk. Manipulating men like him was second nature to her—she knew exactly when to push and when to pull back, when to tease and when to deliver.“Relax,” she cooed. She turned onto her stomach, lifting her hips slightly, her legs draped provocatively over the edge of the couch. “You’re so tense, Parker. I can practically hear your heart pounding from here.”Parker swallowed hard, his throat dry. “You shouldn’t be here. If anyone sees you—”“Then lock the door,” she interrupted.He hesitated but couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering, lingering on the curve of her legs, the dip of her waist.Helena tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You look like a man about to explode. Come here, Chief. I won’t bite.”He crossed the room in two strides, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t stop himself. Her
Estella “Helena.”The name stopped me dead. I wasn’t sure why I turned—maybe it was curiosity, maybe stupidity—but when I did, the scene that greeted me was enough to make me wish I didn’t.Marco’s ever-so-perfect mother, was anything but perfect now. Her sleek bob wasn’t its usual helmet-like perfection, her lipstick smudged like she’d wiped at it carelessly. Then there was Chief Parker on the other hand, still fumbling with his belt, his face flushed, his shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing a tuft of wiry blonde chest hair. Disgusting wasn’t even the word—it didn’t do him justice.They both froze, staring at me like I’d caught them stealing from the cookie jar. I glanced at the door they’d just come out of. His office. Of course. I didn’t need a crystal ball to figure out what had just happened.The scent of sex clung to the air, suffocating. I feel nausea rolling over me in waves. I tried to swallow it down, but my throat burned.Helena tilted her head, her cold eyes narrowing like
(Alejandro’s POV)The moment I stepped outside, I knew something was wrong.“She’s waiting outside,” Tom had said earlier. But now? Nothing. We scanned the whole parking lot, there was no sign of her.“She was here,” Tom said again, his voice laced with doubt. “When I came out earlier and I didn’t see her inside I thought she’d wait by the car.”Something wasn’t right. I could feel it deep in my bones.“Estella!” I called out, turning sharply toward the bushes where I thought I’d heard… something. A faint sound, almost like a struggle. Nothing but silence now“She wouldn’t leave,” I muttered, more to myself than to Tom, who was trailing behind me.He hesitated. “Maybe she went to the restroom or—”“She wouldn’t leave,” I snapped, cutting him off. Estella wasn’t reckless. She wouldn’t just wander off.My eyes darted across the lot, landing on a glint of something half-buried in the shrubs.I moved before I could think, my heart racing as I crouched to inspect it.Her phone.Emerald gre
(Estella’s POV)Drip. Drip. Drip.The sound dragged me back to consciousness, sharp and relentless, cutting through the haze clouding my mind. My head throbbed, a deep, pulsing ache that felt like it was splitting me in two. I moved slightly, and agony radiated from the side of my skull.My hair clung to my scalp, sticky and damp. I didn’t need to touch it to know what it was—blood. I could feel it sluggishly sliding down the side of my face, warm against the icy chill of wherever I was.I blinked, or at least I tried to. My eyes refused to focus, everything swirling in a mess of dark shapes and painful light.Why couldn’t I move?Where was I?I swallowed hard, my throat dry and raw, and tried to lift my hand to touch the wound on my head, but my wrist jerked against something. Chains rattled with a metallic clang, stopping me cold. Panic surged, sharp and electric. I tried again, harder this time, pulling at my wrists, but the restraints only bit deeper into my skin.No.Panic clawed
“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
The courthouse was full.Cameras flashed, reporters shouted over each other, and a crowd of onlookers craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Marco Valdez, the fallen prince of the Valdez empire. Marco was dragged out of the courthouse by two officers, his wrists cuffed, his shirt wrinkled, and his hair disheveled. He looked nothing like the smug, polished man he once was. His scarred cheek was flushed red, his limp more pronounced as he stumbled under the officers’ grip. He looked like a man dangling at the edge of a cliff, holding on with one hand—and it was satisfying as hell to watch.This was supposed to be a simple transport—either back to jail or to another hearing, depending on how today went. The court had been swarmed with reporters, some leaning so close they practically tripped over the officers’ feet“Mr. Valdez, do you have a statement?” one reporter shouted.“Marco, how do you feel about your mother’s arrest and charges? Did you really abuse those women?” screamed ano
I think I like Alejandro.No. I know I like him.It hit me as we walked back from the lake. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. It was the way he stayed close without smothering me, the way his hand would brush mine, just enough to remind me he was there.And when he kissed my hair and told me he was proud of me—God, it broke something inside me.I didn’t realize how starved I was for those words. For someone to look at me and see more than my past, more than the mess Marco had made of my life.But I couldn’t let myself feel this way.It wasn’t real.This wasn’t a love story. This was a business transaction—a marriage of convenience designed for just revenge.I glanced at the sleek gold ring on my finger, the symbol of our contract. A contract that didn’t specify how long the marriage would last, but the implication was clear: once the Valdez family was destroyed, we’d go our separate ways.That was the plan.I wasn’t supposed to care.I wasn’t supposed to notice the way his ja
Estella When we reached the edge of the lake, I pulled the small urn from my bag.Ruth’s ashesAlejandro stayed back as I approached the water, my hands trembling as I unscrewed the lid.“Thank you for being my mother,” I whispered. “For loving me when I didn’t deserve it. For being the only light in my life.”The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I tilted the urn, letting the ashes scatter over the water. The wind caught them, carrying them out over the lake, the gray disappearing into the golden hues of the setting sun.“I’m sorry,” I choked out, the tears spilling over. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.Tears slipped down my cheeks, but they didn’t feel heavy.Alejandro stepped closer, his hand brushing against my back.“She’d be proud of you,” he said quietly.I turned to him, my heart full and broken all at once. “Thank you. For everything.”His hand slid to my cheek wiping a tear, his touch gentle but firm. He pulled me closer, his eyes searching mine before his lips met mi
It’s finally happening. The Valdez empire was crumbling faster than I expected.The world turned against Helena Valdez in record time.By the time we returned home, the storm we unleashed had reached every corner of the world. Social media exploded with clips of the bloodbath—both figurative and literal. News outlets ran breaking updates every hour, replayed the footage on a loop.The headlines weren’t kind.“Helena Valdez Exposed: Adulteress and Murderer.”“Corporate Queen or Cold-Blooded Killer?”“Blood on the Valdez Throne: Justice for Mark Parker.”Within hours, the public was demanding blood—Helena’s blood.“Hang her!” someone screamed during a live broadcast. Protesters chanted for justice, their signs held high with phrases like Murderer and Blood Money Empire outside every Valdez headquarters.Helena had fallen from grace in spectacular fashion, and honestly, it was beautiful to watch.But what really turned the tide was Parker.It didn’t take long for the world to connect the
Estella The room was packed. Every seat in the grand auditorium was filled. Rows of finely dressed elites, journalists, and business executives filled the seats, all there to watch Helena Valdez’s grand announcement. The new chairman of Valdez Enterprises, ascending to her throne after Marco’s “step down.” Marco had been officially stepped down—spineless as ever, letting her take the reins while he hid in her shadow It was laughable. Helena, glowing under the stage lights, stood behind the podium, her sleek white dress screaming power and perfection. Marco lingered beside her, like a battered shadow. His limp was noticeable now, and the burn scar on his cheek was impossible to miss even under the heavy makeup he’d tried to cover it with. I couldn’t stop the flicker of satisfaction in my chest as I leaned back in my seat. “So why are we here, exactly?” I asked Alejandro, keeping my voice low. “Patience, mi estrella.” His tone was smooth, calm, almost bored as he popped a
Three days.That’s how long it had been since the explosion, since my mother’s lifeless body had been carried out of the flames. Three days since I’d spoken, eaten, or done anything but stare at the same patch of wall.My mind replayed everything on a loop—the stretcher, the white sheet, the sound of the blast, Marco’s smug, bloodied face.I hated everyone. I blamed everyone.Alejandro, for holding me back. The hospital, for being so careless that she got kidnapped under their watch. Marco, for being the monster that destroyed my life.But most of all, I hated myself.For being weak. For falling for Marco’s lies. For letting him control me like I was some pathetic, naive puppet. A mistake that had ruined my life the moment I said yesI blamed myself for being adopted by in the first place. For not having real parents. The knock at the door came again. I ignored it, as I had every time before.This time, it opened anyway.I didn’t need to look to know it was himHe sat down beside me,
I woke up in the backseat of the car. Everything hurt—my head, my body, my chest—but none of it compared to the gaping wound in my heartA paramedic leaned over me, his hands reaching to check my pulse.“Maam, you need to stay still,” “Get off me! I’m fine.” I hissed, shoving his hands away.“You’re not fine,” he argued. “You’ve—““I said I’m fine!” I snapped, sitting up too quickly, my head swimming. My breath coming in ragged gasps. My body might’ve felt broken, but it wasn’t the kind of broken they could fix.The paramedic hesitated, glancing toward the front seat.Alejandro’s voice came from the driver’s seat. “Back off. She said she’s fine.”The paramedic hesitated before retreating.I sat there, the ache in my chest spreading, deepening. My mother’s face flashed in my mind—the way she used to laugh, her soft smile when she thought I wasn’t looking. And then the stretcher, her body hidden beneath that stark white sheet.I turned to Alejandro. “Turn around.”He didn’t respond, hi
EstellaAlejandro didn’t speak to me as we left the warehouse, Marco’s screams still echoing faintly in the background. The air outside was cold but it wasn’t enough to cool the fire in my chest—or erase the shame clawing at my insidesHe reached the car first, unlocking it without a word. He stood by the driver’s side, waiting for me to get in. I hesitated, my legs feeling like lead, but eventually, I climbed into the passenger seat.The silence between us was suffocating.Then he got in, started the engine, and pulled away, his movements almost mechanical. His knuckles were tight on the wheel, his jaw locked, his eyes never leaving the road.Not a single glance my way. Not one word.The realization hit me like a punch. What came over me back there?I’d lost control. I’d become someone I didn’t recognize—angry, desperate, violent. And now Alejandro wouldn’t even look at me.Shame washed over me in waves, threatening to drown me. My chest tightened, my hands trembling as I stared at t