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
Alonso's pov"Alonso!”“ Carlos’s voice broke through my thoughts as he entered my office, his presence a welcome distraction. "I’ve been thinking about Vincent’s proposal."Carlos had been my confidant for years. He knew my thoughts about marriage and how I had no interest in entering into a commitment, especially a forced one. But even Carlos could see the importance of having a stable home for Alejandro."Have you made a decision yet?" Carlos asked, leaning back in the chair across from me."Not yet," I replied, rubbing my temple. "I’m still considering it. But to be honest, I’m not looking for a wife. I need a mother figure for Alejandro. That’s the only reason I’m even entertaining this proposal.""You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, Alonso. Just make a decision."Carlos’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me from the relentless loop I’d been stuck in all morning. I exhaled, forcing myself to stop in front of my desk."I can’t rush this," I muttered, rubbing my temp
Skyla's povThe following morning, my phone rang, the harsh trill of the ringtone pulling me from a restless sleep. I groggily picked it up, squinting at the caller ID. It was my father’s number.I had a sinking feeling I already knew what it was about.“Hello?” I answered, my voice more tired than I wanted it to be.“Skyla,” Vincent’s voice came through the line, sharp and urgent. “Get ready. You’re going to meet with Alonso.”I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. “Meet with him? You mean, like... in person?”“Yes. I arranged it. He wants to talk before everything’s finalized. You don’t have a choice in this, Skyla. Be ready. The driver will pick you up in an hour.”I felt a wave of nausea hit me, but I pushed it down, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “I didn’t agree to this.”“I don’t care,” he snapped. “I’ve already made the arrangements. You’re going.”I wanted to argue, to scream that I didn’t deserve to be treated this way, but the truth was, I had no leverage. I was tr
Skyla's povThe car pulled up to a towering building in the heart of Barcelona. The sleek, modern structure rose high above the bustling city, its gleaming glass windows reflecting the afternoon sun. The name Ignacio Enterprises was displayed in gleaming silver letters above the entrance, a symbol of power and wealth that seemed to mock my every hesitation.The driver, a man in a dark suit, stepped out and opened my door with practiced precision. "This way, Miss Parker," he said, his tone clipped and impersonal.I hesitated for a brief second, my mind screaming for a way out, but then I forced myself to move. I couldn't back out now. My life had already been set on a path I never wanted to walk, and stepping into the unknown felt like my only option.The lobby was as intimidating as the building’s exterior, all marble floors and soaring ceilings that made the space feel even colder. Employees in sleek business attire moved with purpose, their expressions unreadable, their focus unwave
Skyla's pov “I can’t do this.” The words slip out before I can stop them, my hands trembling as Emma fastens the last button on my gown. The silky white fabric clings to me like a second skin elegant but suffocating. My heart pounds so loudly it drowns out the distant hum of the wedding march playing in the chapel below. “You can and you will,” Emma says softly, squeezing my shoulders. “Look at me, Sky.” I meet her eyes in the mirror. She looks beautiful sleek black dress, lips painted a daring red but beneath the glamour, her worry is clear. “I shouldn’t be here,” I murmur, shaking my head. “This isn’t real.” Emma sighs, her hands lingering on my shoulders. “I know. But you’re stronger than this. And maybe… maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.” A bitter laugh escapes my throat. “I’m marrying a man I barely know because my father threatened to destroy my life. It doesn’t get much worse.” Emma flinches, but her voice stays firm. “And yet, here you are. Standing tall, looking
Skyla's pov The reception is a whirlwind of lights, laughter, and faces I barely recognize. Crystal chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting a golden glow over the ballroom. Everywhere I look, there are glittering gowns and tailored suits ,people sipping champagne and toasting to a union they know nothing about. I sit beside Alonso at the head table, my hands folded neatly in my lap, pretending to be the perfect bride. The weight of his presence is impossible to ignore. He’s close enough that his arm brushes against mine when he moves, but he hasn’t said a word to me since the ceremony. The knot in my stomach tightens. I can still feel the ghost of his lips on my cheek ,a kiss that was nothing more than a formality. A reminder that this marriage, like everything else in Alonso Ignacio’s world, is a transaction. “You haven’t touched your wine,” his voice cuts through my thoughts smooth, low, but distant. I glance at the untouched glass in front of me, the deep red
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