Giorgia ~
An hour had passed since the party ended. I had taken a quick shower, slipping into my soft pajamas, the fabric a far cry from the tight dress I'd worn earlier. All the men had left, except for the Rodriguez family and some of my father's most trusted associates. They were in my father's study now, undoubtedly discussing Javier's unexpected announcement, the sudden shift that had turned my world upside down. I was exhausted, emotionally drained by the whirlwind of events over the past two days. The fact that I was to marry none other than Javier Rodriguez still didn't feel real.
I hadn't eaten much at the dinner, the weight of anxiety gnawing at my stomach, and now, the emptiness felt even worse. Javier's family had hardly made me feel at ease.He had seemed so familiar with his brother and Victor—two of the most reckless, thrill-seeking men I'd ever laid eyes on. Javier's patience with them was strained, his jaw clenched whenever their antics went too far.
But what truly unsettled me was his father, Omar. I didn't know what it was about him—perhaps the way his eyes lingered just a little too long on my body, his gaze shifting uncomfortably down before snapping back up—but his attention felt more predatory than any compliment I had ever received. Sure, I knew the men in the room must've all taken notice of me, but Omar's gaze felt different, as if he was already staking a claim. And that? That was something I could never ignore.
Martina entered my room, the click of the door locking behind her breaking the silence. She had changed into a night suit too, looking like she had no intention of calling it a night. Given how much Ivan had gotten under her skin today, I half-expected her to already be asleep. But, of course, she was still here. And she wasted no time pointing out the elephant in the room.
"Did you see Daniel's messages?" she asked, her tone flat but knowing.
I had been trying my hardest to avoid thinking about him all day. The last thing I wanted was more drama. "No," I replied, my voice tinged with exhaustion. I wasn't in the mood for any more of it.
"What if it's something important?" she pressed, sitting on the opposite side of my bed. I sighed, her words making me pause. Maybe she was right—what if he had something urgent to say? To be honest, I knew I owed him an explanation. This morning, I'd left him dangling, without closure. It wasn't fair to him, and I couldn't just ignore it.
With a resigned sigh, I nodded and unlocked my phone. The screen lit up, and I clicked on Daniel's messages.
The moment I read them, my breath caught. My mouth fell open, and my heart skipped a beat.
Daniel: You can't leave me like that. I'm not letting that happen. I wanna meet you tonight at twelve.
Daniel: If you don't show up, I'll show up at your place. And you know I ain't kidding.
I stared at the screen, my mind struggling to process the words. "What the fuck!?" I screamed in shock, the words hitting me harder than I expected. Martina flinched beside me, startled by my sudden outburst. "What happened? What did he say?" she asked, her voice laced with concern, her hand gently resting on my shoulder.
"He wants to meet me at midnight. And if I don't show up, he says he's coming here himself," I replied, my voice cracking with panic. My hands trembled as I gripped the phone, the reality of Daniel's stubbornness settling over me. One thing I knew about him was that he wouldn't back down.
Martina leaned back, unfazed, her tone casual, even cold. "Then let him. He'll die anyway."
Her lack of concern almost made my blood boil. "No, Tina, I can't do that. It's not like I love him or anything, but I can't just let him die. And on top of that, he has no idea who our family is."
No. This couldn't happen. If Daniel showed up here, there would be hell to pay. The first person to come after me would be my father, and I'd be dead the moment he found out I had a boyfriend. And if the Rodriguez family got wind of this… the deal would fall apart. A war would break out. Lives would be lost. And it would all be because of me. I would be the cause of so much bloodshed, so much death. The weight of it hit me like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, the room seemed to close in around me.
I stood up from the bed, shaking but determined. I had no choice. "I'm going," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
Martina shot me a look that could've burned a hole through steel. "Have you fucking lost it, Gia?" Her voice was laced with disbelief. "The Rodriguez are still here, and we don't even know when they're leaving. We can't just sneak out like that."
I knew she was right. Hell, I didn't even know how I was going to do this without drawing attention. But I saw no other option. I had to go. For him. For me. For the chaos that would follow if I didn't.
It was already half past ten. If I managed to sneak out undetected, I could make it to the address Daniel had sent in time. The weight of the plan settled in, but I couldn't back down now. "I don't care, Tina. All I know is that I need to meet him, no matter what," I said firmly, heading towards my closet.
Martina's voice stopped me before I could grab anything. "Fine then, but I'm not letting you go alone. I'm coming with you," she said, her tone as stubborn as ever.
I didn't bother arguing—she wasn't going to back down either. I pulled a hoodie from the closet, one of Antonio's. It was too big, swallowing me whole, but it would work. The oversized fabric hid my face well enough. Martina, ever the planner, grabbed my jean shorts and threw on an oversized t-shirt, adding a face mask to complete the look.
We both knew this wasn't going to be easy. But I had no choice.
The plan was simple—sneak out through the kitchen door and slip out the back gates of the property. But the distance between the two wasn't short, and the risks were high. We had to be careful of the guards, of anyone who might catch a glimpse of us from the windows. The last thing I needed was to be caught in the middle of a family war.
We exited my room, the corridor lights dim and quiet. This floor was ours—mine and Martina's—and they assumed we were asleep. We moved like shadows, careful not to make a sound. The stairs creaked under my weight, but I kept my movements light. I saw the glow of light spilling from my father's study, the only sign of life on this floor. Before anyone could step out, we darted toward the kitchen.
The kitchen lights were off, confirming that the staff had already left for the night. It was eerily quiet, the house feeling like it was holding its breath. We reached the back kitchen door, and I paused, steeling myself for what was next. The hardest part was still ahead.
Martina twisted the doorknob, only to realize it was locked. Fuck. My heart skipped a beat, and my mind raced. I quickly pulled out the hairpin from my bun and handed it to her. "Here, take this. Maybe it'll work," I whispered urgently.
She took the pin from me and inserted it into the small keyhole, her movements quick but cautious. I kept my eyes fixed on the hallway, watching for any signs of movement. The silence was suffocating, and every second felt like an eternity.
"Is it working?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. It was taking longer than I expected, and panic was starting to rise.
But before Martina could answer, a voice pierced the tension. "What are you both doing?"
We froze. My stomach twisted into knots, and my heart raced in my chest. We were caught. We're dead. Father would kill us for this.
We slowly turned around to find Wilma standing there, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. She scanned us from head to toe, her gaze lingering on our clothes—and especially Martina's mask. Without a word, she reached up and slowly pulled the mask from Martina's face.
"Are you both sneaking out?" she asked in a low voice, shock clearly written on her features.
I took a step closer to her, my voice tight with desperation. "Please, listen to us," I said.
Martina's eyes shifted to Wilma, her expression one of quiet pleading. Wilma's gaze softened, shifting from shock to something more… worried.
"We need to do this, Wilma. I can't explain everything, but please… just let us go," Martina pleaded, her voice unusually soft yet firm. She never begged, but tonight was different.
I stepped forward, taking Wilma's hand in mine, gripping it tightly. "Please, Wilma," I added, my voice trembling under the weight of my desperation.
Her eyes darted between us, flickering with worry. She stepped back, shaking her head. "You shouldn't do this. It's reckless. It's wrong."
"And you think what's happening to me is right?" I shot back, my voice breaking. Her expression softened, guilt tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Please, Wilma," I whispered again, my grip on her hand tightening. "Don't stop us. We have to go."
For a moment, she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor as she fidgeted nervously with her fingers. "But what if you get caught? Do you even know what will happen?" Her voice wavered, thick with worry.
"Don't worry about us," Martina said, stepping closer, her tone now steady and reassuring. "We'll be careful. We'll be back before anyone even notices."
Wilma remained silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she sighed deeply, nodding ever so slightly. "Fine. Go. But promise me you'll come back as soon as possible. And if anything goes wrong…" She paused, her worried eyes locking onto mine. "I'll call you."
I threw my arms around her, holding her tightly. "Thank you, Wilma. Thank you so much," I whispered, my voice thick with gratitude. She gently pulled away, her hands firm on my shoulders.
"Don't thank me yet," she said, glancing over her shoulder nervously. "Now go, before someone comes."
She stepped aside and opened the kitchen door for us. As we were about to leave, her voice stopped us. "Wait!" We turned back, and she leaned in, her voice hushed but clear. "1806—that's the code for the back gate."
Damn. This woman was a godsend. "You're the best," Martina said, flashing her a rare grin, and we stepped into the cold embrace of the night.
Even with Antonio's oversized hoodie wrapped around me, the chill seeped through, biting at my skin. We moved quickly, the thick trees surrounding the back of the mansion offering us cover. The lack of lights here was both a blessing and a curse. It kept us hidden but made every shadow feel like a threat.
After a while, the trees gave way to a wide, open yard. My stomach tightened as we stepped out into the vast space, the mansion's windows now visible in the distance. My heart pounded with every step, but we kept going, our heads low, until the back gate loomed ahead of us.
Martina reached it first and quickly entered the code. I held my breath, praying nothing would go wrong. A soft click echoed in the silence, and the gate swung open.
Freedom.
We slipped out, the tension in my chest loosening slightly as we moved toward the cab waiting a short distance away. Martina had booked it earlier, and the driver gave us a bored glance as we climbed in.
"Straight to the address," Martina instructed curtly, and the cab took off into the quiet night.
The ride was short but heavy with tension. My mind raced, overthinking every possible outcome. The location Daniel sent was a cheap bar on the outskirts. I had checked it on Google earlier, and it looked as shady as his demands felt.
Fifteen minutes later, the cab pulled up outside the dimly lit building. We stepped out, the faint sound of music and muffled voices reaching my ears. I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I typed out a quick message to Daniel.
Me: We're here.
Daniel: Come to the backside of the bar. I'm waiting.
"He's at the backside of the bar," I said, glancing at Martina.
"Backside? What the fuck is he doing there? Couldn't he just walk in here like a normal person?" she snapped, her voice dripping with irritation. She was already on edge, and Daniel's shady instructions weren't helping.
"Let it go, Tina. I just need to end this quickly," I replied, my voice weary. Without waiting for her to argue further, I led the way toward the back of the bar.
The alley behind it was dimly lit, with a single flickering bulb hanging from the wall, casting eerie shadows. The air was damp, and the faint stench of something rotting made my stomach turn. I spotted Daniel leaning against the wall, wearing a maroon polo shirt and jeans. He didn't move as he saw me approach, his face unreadable in the dim light.
"I'll stay here," Martina muttered from beside me, her eyes narrowing as they locked on Daniel. The way she crossed her arms and glared could probably incinerate him if she tried hard enough. "Just don't take too long, Gia," she added, her tone clipped.
I nodded and stepped toward Daniel, stopping a few feet away from him. My skin prickled at how dark and isolated the alley was—it didn't feel right. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, but I forced myself to hold my ground. This had to end, and it had to end now.
We just stood there, the tension thick in the air, neither of us moving. His expression was a mixture of rage and disbelief, like he was about to explode any second.
"Daniel," I finally broke the silence, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to stay composed. "I'm really sorry," I said, and for once, I meant it. I was sorry—for the mess, for dragging him along, for all of it.
He let out a low, bitter chuckle, but it wasn't in any way amusing. "You think an apology is going to make me let you go?" His voice was half-amused, half-furious, as his eyes blazed with anger.
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Daniel, you need to understand. My marriage is already arranged. We can't continue with this... with us. We need to end it."
His face contorted with rage. "Hell no!" he snarled, taking a step forward. "I'm not letting you leave me, you fucking bitch. I don't care if you're getting married or not. This ends when I say it does."
I froze. The venom in his words sent a chill down my spine. I couldn't believe him—how could he say that? How could he not understand?
Before I could even process what I was about to say, the words flew out of my mouth, sharp and cutting. "How could you even say that?" My voice shook with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You were never in there for me, were you? You only wanted my money and my body, expecting me to just sleep with you. You never loved me, I was just another conquest, another girl for you to use."
I took a deep breath, the bitterness rising like acid in my throat. "Yeah, I should've ended this long ago, I admit it. I should've told you sooner, but I didn't. And you know why? Because I held onto the hope that maybe—just maybe—you actually cared. But now, I see it. Your feelings for me were never real. You just wanted a fucking whore to satisfy your needs. I actually liked you, Daniel. I had real feelings for you. But now I realize you're not even worthy of them. You're just a selfish asshole."
I let the words hang in the air, not caring anymore about the damage they caused.
Everyone around me had always taken me for granted, making decisions for me as if my voice didn't matter. I knew I couldn't stop Father or Javier, not in this game they were playing, but Daniel—he was different. He wasn't going to dictate my life anymore. I was done letting people walk all over me. I could stand up to him, and for once, I was going to make sure no one ruined things for me again.
As I stood there in the dim light of the alley, my heart still racing from the confrontation, Daniel's anger burned through me like a fire. He had no right to twist my words, to manipulate me like this. But before I could even gather my thoughts, he pulled out his trump card—our photos.
"You think you can just walk away from this?" Daniel's voice was cold, venom dripping from every word. "I have these, Gia. These photos—of you and me, all that shit you let me do to you. You think I'm going to let you go just like that? You need to play by my rules now."
My stomach dropped, the air thickening around me. Those photos, those stolen moments that I had foolishly thought were just between us, were now a weapon in his hands. My world felt like it was shattering with each passing second.
"You don't understand, do you?" he continued, stepping closer, his eyes dark and filled with malice. "You were never really mine, but I'll make sure no one else can touch you. Not until you give me what I want."
I could feel the walls closing in on me, suffocating my breath, the pressure building inside me. How could I have been so blind? How could I have let him—him—believe for a second that I was just another girl he could use?
"You don't love me, Daniel. You never did. This was just a game to you," I spat, my voice trembling but fierce. "You had no intention of treating me right. You just wanted control."
A cruel laugh escaped him. "You think I care about love? You think I'm the one who's selfish? You should've thought of that before you let me take those photos. You belong to me now, whether you like it or not."
I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as the shame burned deep. But this wasn't about me anymore. It was about survival. I needed to get out of here, and I needed to do it quickly. "Fine," I said, my voice low and determined.
Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel and walked away, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on me. Martina was waiting by the corner, her eyes filled with concern.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
"He blackmailed me, Tina. He's got the photos. If I don't do what he says, he'll make sure everyone knows."
Martina cursed under her breath, her fists clenching. "That bastard. Let me know if he tries anything again."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. All I wanted now was to get back inside the mansion—away from Daniel and the mess I had gotten myself into.
---
The night was cold, the wind biting at my skin as we made our way back to the mansion. We couldn't afford to get caught. The kitchen door was our only chance. I looked over at Martina, her face grim as we approached.
"Let's just get inside," I muttered, trying to steady my breath.
But as we neared the back kitchen door, I felt my pulse quicken. There was a sound—footsteps, heavy and deliberate. My heart stuttered in my chest.
We both froze in place, facing the door. The footsteps grew louder, and then there was a shift in the air—a presence behind us.
I could feel the heat of someone standing directly behind us. Without thinking, we turned around.