"Hahaha! Cheers!" A man in his early thirties raised his glass to toast with his friends. He held a chicken in his hand, his belly a bit chubby from the delightful feast and his face showing the effects of the ample amount of alcohol he had been enjoying.
"Diego, your wife can cook," he remarked as he took a sip from his glass. "Let me keep her in my house for a week," he jokingly suggested. Laughter filled the room, shared by the other man, who had an oval-shaped head and a rather lean appearance, as well as Mr. Mondragon himself. "Don't be silly, Leo," Mr. Mondragon playfully responded and they all joined in the laughter as they enjoyed the camaraderie of the moment. "Where is she?" The man with the oval head looked around, searching for Mr. Diego's wife. "Where else will she be?" Mr. Diego Mondragon replied with a chuckle and leaned toward him. "The kitchen, of course," Leo added, and they all shared another round of laughter. Leo continued, "Women are supposed to be in the kitchen and nowhere else," which added another round of laughter to their conversation… With a grin, he raised his plate high and said, "More food! I need to refill my plate. You can't find this kind of cuisine anywhere else. Even my sometimes arrogant wife can't match these culinary skills!"….……… Mr. Diego turned to one of the ten maids standing nearby as they feasted and instructed, "You heard him. Go and tell my wife that we need more of her signature dishes. The man with the oval head complimented, "You really know how to hold a feast…" Mr. Diego smiled and left his glass up, "I’ll drink to that!" The maid quickly rushed to inform Mrs. Mondragon, fully aware that any delay or failure to do so might cost her job. She entered the house from outside where the festivities were taking place. The grand exterior hinted at the luxury inside. The shiny tiled floors reflected every step, almost like glass. The sitting room had golden accents that stood out against the crisp white walls, giving it a rich and elegant feel. Inside, everything spoke of wealth and comfort. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, warm light. The rooms were filled with beautifully carved antique furniture, each piece covered in soft, velvety cushions, making the space feel both classy and inviting… The maid rushed through the spotless white hallways, where expensive paintings hung on the walls and vases overflowed with fresh flowers. As she neared the kitchen, the mouthwatering aroma of food filled the air. Mrs. Mondragon was known for her exceptional cooking, and she took great pride in preparing delicious meals for her guests… As the maid stepped into the kitchen, she found Mrs. Mondragon deep in the midst of her cooking. Though only a few months pregnant, she worked tirelessly, her face marked with exhaustion from both her role as a hostess and the strain of her condition. Yet, her determination to ensure her guests were well-fed never wavered. The kitchen buzzed with activity...pots simmered on the stove, and a team of maids moved swiftly under Mrs. Mondragon’s careful direction. Despite her fatigue, she remained focused, leaning against the counter for support while overseeing every detail. Her apron, smeared with traces of her hard work, was proof of her unwavering dedication. The maid approached Mrs. Mondragon, whispering the guest's request for more food. Mrs. Mondragon acknowledged it with a nod. She had been through many such feasts, and she knew the importance of satisfying her guests' appetites. With grace and resilience, she continued her culinary creations, ensuring that the food would be nothing short of extraordinary. In just 20 minutes, she had finished cooking. With two maids carrying the dishes behind her, she made her way to the dining area. As she approached, Mr. KM Smith took notice. "Ah, there you are," he said warmly. She responded with a polite bow and a respectful greeting Mr. Leo Wool chimed in, "Join us, join us!" He had a friendly smile on his face, indicating that he wanted her to dine with them. Thank you, I have to go work on something. She said and turn to walk away. She heard what he said, which made her sad because she knew that once he discover the gender of her child in her womb and it's not a boy, her husband, Mr. Diego, is going to beat her until she has a miscarriage. Each step she took to walk away, a tear dropped from her eye. She entered her bedroom, a cozy and homely space furnished with a large, comfortable bed at its center. He closed the door behind her, drawing her towards the wall. Gently, she descended while her back remained against the wall, and tears began to well up in her eyes. "I'm going to lose another one, another child, and if it's a girl," she said, her voice trembling as she began hitting her chest while sobbing. "I hate my life," she added through clenched teeth. With her back and head against the door, she continued to cry, her sobs echoed in the room. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from upstairs, growing louder with each step. Panic and frustration surged through her as she darted her eyes left and right, desperately searching for a way to steady herself. With trembling hands, she wiped away her tears using the edge of her sari, trying to hide the storm of emotions threatening to consume her. Her heart pounded as she hurried to the edge of the bed, sitting down quickly, forcing herself to appear calm.....as if nothing had happened. The door burst open, and it was Mr. Mandragon. He slammed the door shut behind him which created a thunderous noise that made Thersa jump in fright. "Thersa!" he called out with sharp and demanding voice. Mr. Mandragon had a particular way of calling his wife, and it always sent shivers down her spine. She walked towards him, trembling like a child facing their abuser, her eyes filled with a multitude of unspoken fears and secrets. Mr. Mandragon pivoted to face the opposite direction, leaving his wife standing behind him. He placed one hand on his waist and used the other to massage his chin, his fury intensifying with each passing second. He looked like a lion preparing to pounce on its prey… He turned to face his wife and without hesitation, his hand swung through the air and he landed a harsh slap that sent her crashing to the floor. Her palms hit the cold tiles, her reflection staring back at her from the glossy surface. Tears streamed down her face, mixed with the blood trickling from her nose, but she made no sound only the trembling of her body revealed the pain she felt inside. "When are you going to learn, Thersa?" Mr. Mandrago's voice thundered with fury as he pointed at his wife on the floor. He stormed across the room, his hands moving furiously as he spoke. "Why on earth would you expose your baby bump for them to see? You should know better! "Nobody should see the bump until we know the gender. Do you want the world to mock me? What will people think if I give birth to a girl?’’ ….She sat silently on the floor, tears falling, looking utterly exhausted and hopeless, as if she'd lost all will to keep going right at the moment.. He made soothing sounds, "Tswww, Tswwww, don’t cry, baby. Don't cry, my love," and quickly moved from where he stood to kneel on the floor next to his wife. He touched her and embraced her, lifting her tear-streaked face and gently wiping away the tears, as if he hadn't been the cause of them. "You just have to listen to me, Thersa, and we will be great,"Looking as though he regretted something, Mr. Mandrago stood and entered their walk-in dressing room, which was about the same size as their bedroom. The dressing room was divided into two sections: his had a modern old-fashioned style with painted grey walls, while his wife’s side had a classic but simple style. He went in, picked up a parcel bag, and returned to their bedroom. Here, he stretched out his hands and placed it on a chair. "Wear this for tonight’s gala" he said reluctantly.."They want to see you right beside me. Not that I have a choice." He continued, "It’s a loose dress; they won’t even notice the bump."he said. He stood up quickly, just as he had knelt, and sat on the edge of their bed. He walked out of the room, leaving Mrs. Mandragon still sitting on the floor, her face reflecting the pain and exhaustion she felt."Touchdown.""Is this the land of my birth?" little DJ asked softly the moment he stepped off the plane, his small feet meeting the solid ground."Yes, my son," Diego replied, taking in a deep breath of the familiar air. "This is where you were born."Behind them, Camilla emerged from the plane. "It feels good to be back after all these years," she said, as she looked around."Let’s get going," Diego muttered firmly.The guards who had been waiting near the runway quickly moved into position. Diego walked ahead, with his mother and son following close behind.....................Ma’am, should I pack your things in your room?" the maid asked as Celeste walked into the house."Where else are you going to pack it if not in my room?" Celeste snapped, shooting her a cold side glance."I... I’ll pack them in your room then," the maid stammered, stepping aside as Celeste limped past her."Ma’am, should I call the doctor?" the maid asked gently. "Your foot looks like it’s swelling."Celeste
Thersa’s fingers gently traced the scars on her back as she sat quietly in front of the mirror. Each scar held a memory, a lifetime of pain buried beneath her skin. As she pulled down the sleeve of her blouse, her eyes landed on the faint burn mark along her arm. It had healed, yes. But the pain? It lingered. Not in flesh but in memory. It felt like yesterday, when she had run into the flames, desperate to save her son from the burning fire.... She was still lingering in the past when a sudden shout echoed through the house, snapping her back to the present. Thersa rushed out of the room, only to see Celeste tumbling down the staircase. She landed hard on the floor with a painful thud. "Celeste!" Thersa cried out, hurrying down the steps toward her. "Are you okay?" she asked as she knelt beside her and reached out to help her sit up. "Awww....shhh!" Celeste winced, clutching her ankle. "It hurts!" "You pushed me!" Celeste cried out bitterly, refusing Thersa’s outstretch
"Get out of here before I feed you to my grandma’s ungrateful crocodiles!” A little sharp voice echoed through the marble hallway. The startled maid nearly dropped the tray in her hands and scrambled away in panic, not even waiting to hear more. Little DJ stood at the top of the curved staircase, his arms crossed as he looked down with a fierce expression that didn’t match his age but definitely matched his bloodline. His small Italian leather shoes tapped lightly as he descended, step by step, like a boss inspecting his estate. "How many times do I have to say it?" he muttered, more to himself now. "This is my Nonna's house. If I don't approve, you don't stay." One of the butlers tried to hold in a chuckle as he passed. No one in the villa dared argue with the boy not after last week when he locked someone in the wine cellar for ‘touching his snacks without asking.’ At the end of the hall, DJ stopped and looked around proudly, like he’d just saved the house from an invasion. A
He stood there as he watch her. Then something hit him.. if he didn’t go after her now, he might never get this chance again. “Thersa,” he called out, breaking into a quick walk. “Thersa!” he called again, trying to catch up. But she didn’t stop and didn't turn. “Are you really going to pretend you don’t know me?” Diego muttered, louder now. “And walk away from a Mondragon?” Her steps slowed and slowly her fists clenched at her sides. And she stopped . Slowly, she turned around and for the first time in years, their eyes met. Eye to eye. There was no fear in her gaze. Diego walked up to her. “Why are you acting like this?” he asked, frowning. “And who are you again?” Thersa replied sharply. Diego’s brow tightened. He let out a short, dry chuckle. “You’ve changed.” "If you don’t have anything else to say, please excuse me,” Thersa muttered and turned to walk away. But Diego grabbed her arm. In one sharp motion, Thersa yanked her arm away. “Don’t you ever, in your li
Celeste stood by the window, restless and wide awake, her arms folded tightly as she stared into the dark. The clock ticked past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She had just ended a tense phone call when the security lights outside flickered on. Her eyes widened as the main gate slowly slid open, and the familiar headlights of Rafael’s car crept into the driveway. “There he is…” she whispered breathlessly, her lips curling into a smile. “Finally.” Without wasting a second, she turned from the window and rushed toward the washroom. She quickly touched up her face, fluffed her hair, and changed into something more flattering but just enough to look effortlessly perfect. She sprayed a hint of perfume on her neck and whispered to her reflection, “Everything is going to change tonight.” ..... Thersa and Rafael hurried inside, laughing softly as the closed the door behind then.. Still holding hands, they walked to the bedroom smiling and just happy. "I mis
Celeste stormed into house. “Rafaaa! Rafaaa! Rafaaa!” she called, pacing from the foyer to the corridor, her voice grew louder with each shout.. But the house remained silent, with no response from anywhere in the house.. She turned down another hallway, ready to scream again when Thersa appeared at the top of the staircase, already dressed and coming down in a hurry. “What’s the matter?” Thersa asked, concern in her eyes as she descended. Celeste froze mid-step, her jaw tightening the moment she saw her. “What right do you have to answer me in his house?” Celeste snapped. “I have every right to ask if someone’s screaming in the home I live in,” Thersa replied calmly as she stood firm at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, look who’s talking,” Celeste scoffed with a cold smirk. “Acting like a wife just because he gave you a ring.” Thersa descended the last few steps slowly. “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked, her tone even. “Yes, I do,” Celeste snapped.