Unspoken Scars

~~Elena~~

“You think you can destroy my work and my life? Watch me. I will destroy you first.”

“Please, Uncle, don’t hurt Grandma! Please!” I shouted, my throat raw from the desperation in my voice.

The next second, my eyes flew open. My heart pounded wildly in my chest,drenched in sweat.

I let out a long breath, pressing my hand over my racing heart. “Thank goodness,It’s just a dream,” I muttered under my breath.

I tried to push myself up, but the moment I did, a sharp pain pulsed through my head. It pounded so heavily that I had to shut my eyes, a wave of uneasiness washing over me.

“What… what happened?” I whispered, pressing my hand against my forehead.

Gradually, I sat up, my head still heavy. My eyes fell on the white long sleeve I was wearing, and my heart skipped. That wasn’t mine.

I scanned the room in a rush,strange walls, strange curtains,strange bed. Nothing felt familiar.

“I was… I was at the party… with Carlos and….” I whispered, pointing my trembling finger in the air, trying to force my memory back.

Then it hit me like fire. “Gosh… I remember!” I screamed, clutching my head as flashes of last night burned through my mind.

“Elena… what have you done again?” I groaned, hitting my forehead lightly.

I slid down from the bed. My legs shook the moment they touched the ground, weak… so weak, as if they could fail me any second.

I opened the door and stepped out carefully.

The house was huge, far bigger than the one his family stayed in. The polished floor reflected the light above, and the air carried a faint scent of luxury.

Holding onto the railing, I made my way down the stairs, slow and unsteady. My eyes swept across the living space below, taking in every detail from where I stood.

“You can come down. Breakfast is ready,” he said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs on the long dining table.

I paused at the foot of the stairs, staring. He looked completely different in casual wear. An black jogger hung loosely on his frame, paired with a white sleeveless shirt that showed off the sharp lines of his arms. A simple chain rested against his neck, glinting faintly under the morning light.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to move. Step by step, I walked down slowly, my eyes never leaving him.

He stood behind the chair, his gaze fixed on me. As I walked closer, he pulled the seat out slightly, tilting his head in a silent gesture for me to sit.

I sat down carefully, my gaze drifting to the table. A glass of orange juice glistened beside a slice of bread layered with cheese, and scrambled eggs still steaming faintly.

Without a word, he pushed the plate closer to me. “Eat. You need your strength,” he said in a low, firm voice.

A wave of embarrassment flushed through me.I shut my eyes for a moment.

He sat down across from me, his gaze steady.

“What about your own?” I asked softly.

“Already eaten,” he replied without hesitation.

Of course. It was already past ten in the morning. I must have exhausted myself last night, to wake up this late.

I lowered my eyes and picked at the food in front of me. When I glanced up again, his attention was already on his phone, his expression unreadable as his fingers moved across the screen.

He wasn’t even looking at me. Somehow, that stung more than it should. I bit into the bread slowly, chewing in silence.

My eyes trailed higher…and landed on his neck, there was a faint bruise. A mark. A hickey.

Heat rushed to my face. I shut my eyes quickly and shook my head, shame burning through me.

After a while, he pushed his chair back and stood. Without a word, he walked out. I knew it was Saturday. He wouldn’t be going to the office. Then where…?

I finished the last piece of bread, washing it down with a sip of orange juice. Just as I set the glass down, he returned,this time carrying shopping bags in his hands.

“Are you done eating?” he asked, his voice low.

“Yeah,” I replied instantly, my heart skipping at the way his eyes lingered on me.

“Come with me,” he said softly, almost like a command hidden in gentle words.

I swallowed hard and nodded, pushing my chair back. My legs felt weak, but I still followed him, one step behind, my mind racing with questions I couldn’t voice.

He opened the door and tilted his head. “Go in,” he said.

I obeyed, stepping inside. A second later, he followed, closing the door behind him.

He dropped the shopping bags on the table, and then sank into the couch with ease.

I stood there, frozen, my hands twisting together. Confusion clouded my mind. Why had he brought me here?

“Why are you standing? Come and sit,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

My chest tightened,I had been with him, yet a part of me was still afraid. That fear clung to me, no matter how much I tried to shake it off.

I hesitated, then moved slowly. I sat down on the couch, keeping to the other side. My legs folded up, my hands gripping them tight like I needed something to hold onto.

When I looked at him, his gaze was already on me. It was strong. Unreadable.

“Are you scared of me, Elena?” he asked, his tone quiet, but the weight of the question made my chest tighten.

My lips parted, but no words came. If I told him the truth, would it wound him? Yet if I denied it, would he think I was mocking him?

Caught between both fears, I chose silence.

He let out a soft sigh.

“These are yours,” he said, pointing at the bags on the table.

“I don’t want you to come here and feel uncomfortable. I can put them in the wardrobe, so you can change into any of them whenever you come over.”

For a moment, I froze, my breath caught in my throat.

“No, Uncle, I…”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, cutting me off.the sound low and unexpected. It silenced me instantly, leaving my heart racing even faster.

“Elena… what exactly do you want?” he asked.

The question hit me hard. I wanted him. Every part of him. But my heart twisted. Grandma’s life was still hanging on the edge. How could I trade her safety for my own desire?

He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over me, then walked toward the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of rushing water filled the room.

My chest rose sharply. Even then, my mind betrayed me. I imagined stepping in there with him, imagining the water sliding down his skin. Heat rushed through me, and I bit my lower lip, trying to hold myself together.

I was still lost in my thoughts when the bathroom door opened.

He walked out, a towel wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water sliding down his skin. He didn’t spare me a glance, just moved straight to the wardrobe.

I couldn’t look away. My eyes followed every movement as he pulled out a neatly pressed blue suit.

I tried to steady my breathing, but when he turned, my heart stumbled.

There, etched across his chest, was a tattoo.

At first, I thought it was just a design, but as he drew nearer, the truth became clear.

It wasn’t just a tattoo,it was a name.

I rose to my feet without realizing, my eyes fixed on the ink etched into his left chest.

“VALENTINA.”