1 - Reality

ACE

The drone of voices in the boardroom wears me out more than anything. Some days, it feels like my whole world is moving in circles, spinning and spinning, going nowhere. Today was one of those days. One where all I wanted was to go home and rip off this damn tie that’s choking me, as if to remind me that I’m still trapped.

“Mr. Montesino, with your authorization, we could—”

“Do whatever you want, Alfonso. Just send me the report,” I cut in, already getting to my feet.

The watch on my wrist read five twenty-seven. I almost laughed out loud. I could picture Luna’s impatient glare, her arms crossed, that foot tapping the floor with an irritation she didn’t even try to hide. She pulled the same stunt every time I was late. She didn’t scream, she didn’t cry—that wasn’t her style.

But I knew her. Or I thought I did.

I knew it was all an act. I knew that, in the end, she always waited for me.

Always.

From the day we sealed that deal, I knew what to expect. One year. A year of living together, of keeping up appearances from a safe distance. A marriage of convenience. A social contract she agreed to sign without a moment’s hesitation. And even sleeping in the same room, we kept our distance. No touching, no getting involved, no complications.

I never touched her. And, for a while, I thought that was exactly what she wanted.

But there were days when her eyes said more than her words ever could. Days she’d look at me with a pain I couldn’t name, and so, I chose to ignore it. Until she stopped giving me those looks and started making demands.

Demands I never bothered to meet.

Luna’s love has been a constant thing since we were teenagers, but she never used to ask me for anything, which was one of the reasons I chose her a year ago. Of course, she had other points in her favor: she was beautiful, charming, from a good family, elegant. I just never imagined marriage would make her think she had any rights over me.

Now, sitting in the back of the car as the driver sped through the streets, I wondered what today’s lecture would be. “You never listen,” she’d say. “You’re never going to change.” I’d hear her out in silence, take a cold shower, and the next day, everything would go back to normal.

That’s how it was. That’s how it always was.

Until it wasn’t.

The house was strangely silent. An irritating silence.

I walked in, loosening my tie, expecting to see her in the living room. Nothing.

“Luna?” I called out impatiently.

No answer.

Instead, Thalita appeared at the entrance to the living room, her eyes wet and her face as grim as if she’d just come from a funeral.

“Mr. Montesino…”

“Where is she?” I asked sharply, with no patience for the maid’s drama.

She just held out an envelope, her hand trembling slightly.

“She asked me to give you this.” Her voice sounded like a thread about to snap. For a second, I thought she might cry, but she got a hold of herself and added in a whisper, “She told me to tell you… not to worry about your fortune.”

I snatched the envelope from her hand, the disdain in her tone pissing me off. On the back, in a handwriting I recognized, was an affront that made me freeze: Luna Bexter. Not Montesino.

A cold, incredulous smile curved my lips. What kind of joke was this?

“Get out of my way,” I ordered Lita, who flinched back in fear.

I took the stairs two at a time, rage beginning to simmer under my skin. This was a new level of tantrum. I knew she was putting on a ridiculous show to get my attention.

“LUNA! THE GAME IS OVER!” I yelled, my voice echoing down the empty hall.

I shoved the door to our bedroom open. Empty. I went straight to the closet, expecting to find her there, hiding among the dresses.

But the closet was wide open and cleared out.

Empty.

No dresses, no mismatched shoes she never put away properly. Her scent, that soft perfume that clung to everything, was gone.

The silence was no longer just irritating; it was an insult.

An animal that bites the hand that feeds it. That’s what she was.

I went back to the bed, sat on the edge, and ripped open the envelope. The divorce papers slid into my lap. Signed. And, just like the maid said, with no demands for assets.

I let out a laugh. A short, dry, humorless sound.

So, she thought she could just leave? That she could erase my name, refuse my money, and disappear? What a childish fantasy. Her audacity was almost admirable, if it weren’t so stupid.

She thought she could just discard me? How dare my pet scorn its master?

I chose her. I allowed her to use my name. And she thought she had the right to throw it away?

A Montesino is not discarded. Ever.

I could find her in an hour. I could drag her back here and lock her in this room until she learned her lesson.

But no. That would be too easy.

She wanted to be free? I’d let her have a bitter taste of the world out there, without my protection. I’d let her drown in her own insignificance.

She’ll be back. They always come back.

And then, I’ll make sure she never again forgets who she belongs to.