Mag-log inGwenHealing, unfortunately, lasted exactly four hours. Maybe five. Then Camilla arrived. I saw her car first through the front sitting room windows just after lunch. Sleek black exterior gliding through the estate gates with the kind of confidence only deeply entitled people possessed. The sight alone turned my blood cold.Across from me, Sebastian stiffened immediately. Matteo swore under his breath. And my mother…My mother froze. Not subtly either. One second she was helping Kayla separate crayons by color at the coffee table. The next, all movement stopped completely, her attention fixed toward the driveway like something physical had tugged sharply inside her chest.We all did not need a psychologist to tell us that it was the conditioning and the emotional tether at work. I saw Adrian notice it too from where he stood near the fireplace speaking quietly into his phone moments earlier. His gaze sharpened almost imperceptibly before he ended the call. Nobody moved immediately.Ou
GwenBy morning, the storm had passed. The gardens outside the villa glistened beneath pale sunlight, every leaf wet with silver droplets that caught the light like glass. From my bedroom window, the world looked clean again. I envied that. Because inside the Cruize estate, nothing felt clean anymore. Not after yesterday. Not after Kayla.The entire house had shifted around her presence overnight. I felt it in the silence at breakfast. In the way staff lowered their voices instinctively near her. In how Matteo physically stopped himself from slamming doors now. In how Sebastian watched her with quiet heartbreak whenever he thought nobody noticed.And my mother…God. My mother looked wrecked. Not fragile in the delicate way wealthy women performed sadness. No. This was uglier. Genuine guilt hollowing a person from the inside out. I found her alone in the east sitting room just after ten. She was staring at old photo albums spread across the coffee table without actually turning pages.S
Author's POVCamilla DiCarpo did not sleep well anymore and that irritated her more than fear itself. Fear could be managed, anticipated and even turned into a Weapon. But exhaustion Exhaustion made people careless, and Camilla despised carelessness.She stood barefoot before the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse watching rain bleed across the city skyline while one hand tightened slowly around a crystal glass of untouched wine. She was thinking about a few things that irritated her greatly. Sebastian Cruize had changed and that alone was dangerous enough. However, Adrian Salvador entering the Cruz estate openly again? That shifted the board entirely.Camilla closed her eyes briefly. The problem with intelligent men was not merely their resources. It was patience and Adrian Salvador had always been patient in terrifying ways. Most people reacted emotionally when wounded but Adrian investigated.That was why she failed to eliminate him from the equation years ago. Even after t
Gwen That night, the storm finally broke. Not emotionally but literally. Thunder rolled across the city just after midnight, rattling the tall windows of the east wing hard enough to wake the entire house. And three seconds later, Kayla screamed. I was already moving before my mind caught up. The guest room door swung open at the same moment Adrian emerged from the opposite hallway. Kayla’s cries tore through the corridor again. Not loud tantrum crying. Terror. Pure terror. Adrian reached the room first. I followed immediately behind him. Kayla was curled tightly beneath the blankets trembling violently, tiny hands over her ears while lightning flashed across the darkened room. “No no no no...” “It’s okay.” Adrian’s voice remained calm instantly. “Bug, look at me.” Another thunderclap sounded. Kayla flinched so hard she nearly fell sideways off the bed. My chest constricted painfully. Because she wasn’t awake fully. This was memory panic. Trauma surfacing through sleep. “Mason’s a
GwenThe sunroom never recovered after that. Not fully. Even after Kayla calmed down. Even after Miguel quietly led her toward the garden to help her breathe through the panic the way Dr. Liang taught her. The room itself felt haunted now. Like truth had finally clawed its way into the walls.I stood near the fireplace staring at Matteo’s blood smeared across the broken glass scattered near the hearth. Nobody had cleaned it yet because nobody seemed able to move.My mother remained seated on the floor beside the sofa, crying into trembling hands while my father stood behind her helplessly, one hand pressed against the back of her shoulder. Sebastian looked pale with fury. And Adrian… Adrian stood near the doorway watching the garden through the windows where Miguel walked slowly beside Kayla beneath the rain-covered trees.His expression terrified me. Not because he looked angry. Because he looked calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that existed right before irreversible things happened.
GwenNobody recovered from that moment properly. Not really. The house continued moving afterward. Staff brought tea. Someone answered a phone call somewhere upstairs. Rain kept falling beyond the windows. But everything felt altered now. Because trauma looked different when trapped inside a child.My mother sat quietly in the sunroom an hour later while Kayla colored at the far end of the long coffee table beside Adrian. Not beside me. And strangely, that no longer hurt the way it once would have. Because I understood now that safety was earned patiently. Not inherited automatically.Kayla hummed softly to herself while drawing tiny uneven stars with a purple crayon. Every few seconds her fingers brushed against Adrian’s sleeve unconsciously, checking he was still there. He never moved far enough for her to lose contact. Never once.Sebastian noticed too. I saw it in the way his expression shifted watching them. Not pity but understanding. Matteo entered carrying a plate of sliced fr
Alejandro/ Inferno The Haven of Shadows was never meant to impress anyone. It was not carved from marble or crowned with banners like the courts of kings. No towering walls. No ceremonial guards.Just stone. Old, breathing stone that had seen too much blood to pretend it was holy. Twenty–nine soul
GwenSilence used to terrify me. Not the peaceful kind, the heavy kind. The kind that pressed in on my ears until my own thoughts sounded dangerous. The kind Mason used as punishment. The kind Camilla weaponized, dressing it up as “rest” and “reflection” while my mind was being slowly unstitched. B
Gwen The realization did not arrive all at once. It came in fragments. Like hairline fractures spreading beneath a surface everyone else believed was solid. I noticed it first in my body. The way my shoulders no longer curled inward when Camilla entered a room. The way my breathing stayed even wh
GwenI learned, slowly, that silence frightened people more than rage ever could. The Cruise villa had always been loud. Voices overlapping, footsteps echoing, glass clinking against marble like punctuation marks in conversations that never truly ended. Even after my return, after the months where







