Alonso's pov“I want Skyla to take me to school!” Alejandro’s voice echoed through the hallway, loud and insistent,pulling me from my thoughts.I paused, adjusting the cuff of my shirt, the morning light casting long shadows across the marble floor. The household buzzed with its usual efficiency, but this request was unexpected."You have a driver," I reminded him, keeping my tone even."But I want her," he insisted, his dark eyes wide and unwavering. His backpack, slightly too large for his small frame, slipped off one shoulder.Skyla stood just behind him, a faint crease forming between her brows, uncertain whether to intervene or remain silent."It's fine," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't mind taking him if that's what he wants."My voice remained measured. "It's unnecessary."Alejandro's lower lip pushed forward in a pout. "But I want Skyla to come with me," he pressed, tugging gently at her hand.I studied them both. Alejandro rarely deviated f
Skyla's povThe morning sunlight poured in through the tall windows, casting soft golden hues across the hardwood floors. Barcelona’s usual weekend rhythm was muffled today, replaced by the quiet domesticity within the Ignacio estate.Alejandro’s giggles echoed down the hallway.I smiled faintly from where I stood at my easel, brush in hand, my attention shifting between bold strokes of crimson and the growing patch of golden tones spreading across the canvas. It was still a work in progress, a burst of color, a clash of emotion. But for the first time in days, I felt at peace.This little room, once empty and untouched, was now mine. My sanctuary. After some negotiation with Ana and the housekeeper, I’d converted one of the spare rooms into a modest art studio. Nothing extravagant, just enough space for an easel, my supplies, and light. Lots of it.Some days, I didn’t even paint. I just sat on the stool and stared out the window, letting the stillness settle inside me.But today, my
Skyla's pov"I’ve been invited to a family gathering," I said, trying to make it sound casual. "Next weekend."Ana’s eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. I knew she was likely wondering if I was prepared for whatever might come with such an event. Family gatherings, after all, came with a set of expectations, and I wasn’t sure how much of that I could handle yet."I’ll be fine," I said, mostly to reassure myself.Ana gave a soft nod, her gaze thoughtful. She didn’t push, which I appreciated. I often found it hard to talk about the swirling mess of thoughts in my head, let alone admit how out of place I felt in this new world. She simply moved around the kitchen, the sound of her rhythmic chopping filling the otherwise quiet space.Dinner that evening was a simple affair. I helped Ana in the kitchen, the calm routine of slicing vegetables and stirring pots grounding me. The movement was comforting, a small anchor in the sea of uncertainty that the family gathering represented.
Skyla's povThe soft, early morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I stood by the window, staring out at the city, trying to gather my thoughts. The events of the past few days had kept me busy, preparations for the weekend ahead, the quiet conversations with Ana, and the time spent helping around the house. But there was one thing I had yet to address with Alonso: the family gathering his mother had invited us to.I hadn’t said anything to Alonso yet. I had planned to tell him later, once I figured out what I felt about it all. But as I stood there in front of the window, I realized that I couldn’t keep putting it off. I needed to tell him, he deserved to know, especially since he had already been informed by his mother.The weight of it all settled on me. It wasn’t just the formality of the event, it was stepping into a new role, one that felt larger than I had expected. I wasn’t just going to meet Alonso’s family; I was becoming part of thei
skyla's pov The grand entrance of the estate had set the tone, and as we crossed the threshold, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had entered a different world. Everything about it, the smooth marble floors, the high ceilings, the delicate tapestries hanging from the walls screamed wealth and history, a far cry from the more modest surroundings I had grown used to. Isabel’s presence filled the room effortlessly as she guided us deeper into the house. Alejandro, still holding my hand, seemed as unbothered by the grandeur of it all as I was daunted. The way he tugged on my sleeve now and then reassured me that I wasn't alone in this. For all the elegance surrounding us, the little boy beside me felt like home. In the drawing room, Isabel set about welcoming her grandson with a gentle embrace. "Alejandro, my dear," she cooed, lifting him into her arms for a brief moment. "How are you? You've grown so tall!" She kissed his cheek and turned him toward me. "Skyla, it's wonderful t
Skyla's pov "This is the third time I am being forced to watch “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before this month." Emily groans dramatically, tossing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. "And?" I roll my eyes but grin. "At this point, I can recite the lines better than Lara Jean herself." "Good. That means it's working," she says, pointing at me with a smug expression. "I’m trying to drill it into your head that love isn’t dead." I snort. "In real life? It’s on life support." Emily gasps in mock offense, pressing a hand to her chest. "That’s blasphemy. You live in Barcelona, the city of passion and romance! How can you say that?" I glance at my untouched canvas, the blank space mirroring the dull ache in my chest. "Because movies have happy endings. Life doesn’t." The air shifts between us, the easy banter fading into silence. Emily doesn’t push, but I know she’s thinking the same thing I am. Since I left him. The vibration of my phone breaks the moment. I glance at the screen,
Alonso's pov “Alejandro, ponte los zapatos,” I say, glancing at the clock. (“You’re going to be late for school.”) He swings his feet from his seat at the breakfast table, making no move to obey. Instead, he pushes eggs around on his plate, sighing dramatically. “I don't want to go today.” he mutters. My brows lift. “Y eso por qué?” (And why is that?) He shrugs, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Solo no tengo ganas.” (I just don’t feel like it.) “Alejandro,” my mother says gently from across the table, folding her napkin neatly. “Te encanta la escuela.” (You love school.) He pouts. “Not today.” I set down my coffee cup and level him with a look. “La escuela no es opcional.” (School isn’t optional.) "Si yo tengo que trabajar, tú tienes que ir a clase." (“If I have to work, you have to go to class.”) He sighs again long and exaggerated, like a child shouldering the world’s greatest burden. “Bueno.” (Fine.) Ana, his nanny, appears at the doorway with his backpack
Alonso's pov "Señor Ignacio, Vincent Parker is still insisting on meeting with you," Miguel says, stepping into my office. "He claims it’s urgent." I don’t look up from my paperwork. "Schedule it for tomorrow at 8:00 a.m." Miguel hesitates. "Are you sure? He seems " "I said tomorrow," I cut in, flipping to the next document. "Let him wait." Vincent Parker is a name I’ve heard before ,an opportunist, a man who built his wealth on risky ventures and even riskier alliances. His company is struggling, and I already know what he wants. A deal. An investment. A lifeline. But I don’t give handouts. He nodded and left. I didn't expect much from this meeting ,another futile business pitch, no doubt. If nothing else, I’d put an end to his insistence once and for all. The next morning, I had just cleared my desk when the door swung open, and Vincent Parker strode in with an exaggerated smile. "Good morning, Mr. Ignacio!" His tone was far too cheery for a man on the verge of f
skyla's pov The grand entrance of the estate had set the tone, and as we crossed the threshold, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had entered a different world. Everything about it, the smooth marble floors, the high ceilings, the delicate tapestries hanging from the walls screamed wealth and history, a far cry from the more modest surroundings I had grown used to. Isabel’s presence filled the room effortlessly as she guided us deeper into the house. Alejandro, still holding my hand, seemed as unbothered by the grandeur of it all as I was daunted. The way he tugged on my sleeve now and then reassured me that I wasn't alone in this. For all the elegance surrounding us, the little boy beside me felt like home. In the drawing room, Isabel set about welcoming her grandson with a gentle embrace. "Alejandro, my dear," she cooed, lifting him into her arms for a brief moment. "How are you? You've grown so tall!" She kissed his cheek and turned him toward me. "Skyla, it's wonderful t
Skyla's povThe soft, early morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I stood by the window, staring out at the city, trying to gather my thoughts. The events of the past few days had kept me busy, preparations for the weekend ahead, the quiet conversations with Ana, and the time spent helping around the house. But there was one thing I had yet to address with Alonso: the family gathering his mother had invited us to.I hadn’t said anything to Alonso yet. I had planned to tell him later, once I figured out what I felt about it all. But as I stood there in front of the window, I realized that I couldn’t keep putting it off. I needed to tell him, he deserved to know, especially since he had already been informed by his mother.The weight of it all settled on me. It wasn’t just the formality of the event, it was stepping into a new role, one that felt larger than I had expected. I wasn’t just going to meet Alonso’s family; I was becoming part of thei
Skyla's pov"I’ve been invited to a family gathering," I said, trying to make it sound casual. "Next weekend."Ana’s eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. I knew she was likely wondering if I was prepared for whatever might come with such an event. Family gatherings, after all, came with a set of expectations, and I wasn’t sure how much of that I could handle yet."I’ll be fine," I said, mostly to reassure myself.Ana gave a soft nod, her gaze thoughtful. She didn’t push, which I appreciated. I often found it hard to talk about the swirling mess of thoughts in my head, let alone admit how out of place I felt in this new world. She simply moved around the kitchen, the sound of her rhythmic chopping filling the otherwise quiet space.Dinner that evening was a simple affair. I helped Ana in the kitchen, the calm routine of slicing vegetables and stirring pots grounding me. The movement was comforting, a small anchor in the sea of uncertainty that the family gathering represented.
Skyla's povThe morning sunlight poured in through the tall windows, casting soft golden hues across the hardwood floors. Barcelona’s usual weekend rhythm was muffled today, replaced by the quiet domesticity within the Ignacio estate.Alejandro’s giggles echoed down the hallway.I smiled faintly from where I stood at my easel, brush in hand, my attention shifting between bold strokes of crimson and the growing patch of golden tones spreading across the canvas. It was still a work in progress, a burst of color, a clash of emotion. But for the first time in days, I felt at peace.This little room, once empty and untouched, was now mine. My sanctuary. After some negotiation with Ana and the housekeeper, I’d converted one of the spare rooms into a modest art studio. Nothing extravagant, just enough space for an easel, my supplies, and light. Lots of it.Some days, I didn’t even paint. I just sat on the stool and stared out the window, letting the stillness settle inside me.But today, my
Alonso's pov“I want Skyla to take me to school!” Alejandro’s voice echoed through the hallway, loud and insistent,pulling me from my thoughts.I paused, adjusting the cuff of my shirt, the morning light casting long shadows across the marble floor. The household buzzed with its usual efficiency, but this request was unexpected."You have a driver," I reminded him, keeping my tone even."But I want her," he insisted, his dark eyes wide and unwavering. His backpack, slightly too large for his small frame, slipped off one shoulder.Skyla stood just behind him, a faint crease forming between her brows, uncertain whether to intervene or remain silent."It's fine," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't mind taking him if that's what he wants."My voice remained measured. "It's unnecessary."Alejandro's lower lip pushed forward in a pout. "But I want Skyla to come with me," he pressed, tugging gently at her hand.I studied them both. Alejandro rarely deviated f
Alonso's povI loosened my tie and settled back in the leather chair, the weight of the day pressing against the edges of my patience. The office was quiet now ,just the faint hum of the city beyond the window and the distant click of Miguel’s keyboard outside. I welcomed the silence. It gave me space to think, to control the chaos before it became a problem. Most would find the silence unsettling. I found it necessary. It allowed me to think clearly, to keep everything in line.The phone on my desk buzzed, the name flashing across the screen. Mamá.I sighed before answering. "Mamá.""Alonso," her voice was warm and familiar, like the scent of lavender in the summer air. "Estaba empezando a pensar que te habías olvidado de mí." (I was starting to think you’d forgotten me.)"I’ve been busy," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "You know how things are.""Siempre estás ocupado," (You’re always busy,) she said softly, the hint of a sigh beneath her words. "Pero nunca demasiado ocupado para
Alonso's pov "These numbers aren't matching the projections," I said, my tone clipped as I leaned back in my leather chair. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind me cast long shadows across the sleek lines of my office. Barcelona’s skyline stretched beyond the glass, a city teeming with life, in sharp contrast to the cold precision within these walls. Carlos stood at the edge of my desk, arms folded as he scanned the quarterly report. "The Serrano project’s delays are eating into the margins. If the suppliers don’t align by the end of the month, we’ll take a hit." I tightened my jaw. "Then make them align. I don’t tolerate inefficiency." My voice remained calm, measured but irritation simmered beneath the surface. I had no patience for carelessness. Not in my business. Not in my home. Control was everything. Without it, things fell apart and I didn’t let things fall apart. Carlos raised an eyebrow, but whatever amusement he found in my reaction didn’t reach his voice. "I’ll han
Skyla's pov“You can’t hide forever, you know.”Emma’s voice cuts through the quiet of my bedroom, her tone light and teasing. I shift against the silk sheets, pressing my phone closer to my ear while staring at the ceiling. Morning sunlight spills through the oversized windows, casting a golden glow across the room. It’s a beautiful prison, but a prison all the same.“I’m not hiding,” I mutter, though the words ring hollow even to me.“Sure,” she says, dragging the word out. “Because spending your days locked up in a mansion with a ridiculously hot billionaire and his adorable nephew screams ‘freedom.’”I roll my eyes, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite the ache in my chest. “It’s not like that, Em.”“Mmm-hmm.” There’s a pause before she adds, “And yet you’re still there. What’s going on, Sky?”I push myself upright, pulling my knees to my chest. Nothing in this house feels real, least of all me.“I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “Everything here feels… off. Like I’m walking on
Skyla's pov The next morning I twist the cap off my water bottle, taking a long sip as I wipe a bead of sweat from my brow. The gym is tucked away on the far side of the house, a sleek, glass-walled room with polished wooden floors and enough state of the art equipment to rival a professional fitness center. It’s too pristine, too impersonal, but it’s a welcome distraction from the silence I’ve grown used to. Since I arrived, Alonso has barely spoken to me. Conversations feel one-sided , I ask questions; he answers with the bare minimum. The house itself mirrors his personality immaculate, controlled, and distant. Every room feels like a showroom rather than a home, and I wonder if anyone has ever truly lived here. At least the gym gives me something to do. A shred of normalcy. I settle onto the mat, easing into a stretch. The tightness in my muscles is a familiar ache, one that soothes my restless thoughts. Working out has always been my escape, a way to clear my mind when l