CHAPTER FIVE

Hours later, under the scorching Madrid sun, Lola strolled to her favorite cafe, which was just a few blocks away from her apartment. Her large, dark shades did a good job of protecting her eyes from the harsh sunlight, although she also hoped they’d mask her identity from anyone who might recognize her.

She nearly laughed at the thought. It was ridiculous, really. She couldn’t be as popular as Gabriele described. One random moment that no one bore witness to couldn’t ruin her life.

How wrong she was.

Lola noticed the first stalker when she stopped to cross the street. She knew she was trying to appear anonymous, but the guy’s outfit made it obvious that he was trying way too hard. No one in their right mind will wear an all-black combination of jeans and a hoodie in this ridiculous heat wave. That alone made him stand out from everyone else who chose light clothing for the weather. Lola spotted the man—who seemed short and stubby—from a few yards away, pretending to tap away at his phone whenever she looked at him. At least he wore shades, Lola thought. She crossed the street and made a right turn, deciding to skip her afternoon coffee. Sure enough, a minute later, the man appeared behind her, trying to keep up. Judging from the way he puffed, and the fact that he was already drenched in sweat, it was safe to assume that losing him wouldn’t be difficult. But Lola suddenly had other problems to deal with.

The street she walked into was quite populated with people on the sidewalk, and a good number of them turned to look at her as she breezed past. As if that wasn’t unsettling enough, a man in a beach shirt and khaki shorts stared at her from across the road like he was trying to determine if she was a criminal. Then he suddenly started waving and yelling as he ran towards her.

What the hell?!

Lola picked up the pace as she power-walked through a sea of people. Then a tall woman materialized from nowhere, blocking her path with an awkward smile full of teeth.

“Hi! Miss Lola Navarro, isn’t it? Could you answer a few questions for me, please? Great! Let’s start with your sudden engagement to the—.”

As she reached into her bag—probably to pull out a phone, or an actual microphone—Lola turned around. The sweaty, short guy looked like he was about to pass out, but he was gaining ground. The runner in the beach shirt weaved quickly around people on the sidewalk, still waving and yelling gibberish. Then Lola’s heart skipped several beats when she noticed three other strangers making their way towards her. In a moment of panic, she just stood there, unsure of whether to run or sink her hand in her pocket and pretend she had a firearm.

Then a powder-blue Porsche pulled up right next to her, its tires screeching as the brakes were suddenly applied.

With extreme confusion etched over her face, she simply watched as the window rolled down. Then she immediately frowned.

“You?”

“Me,” Santiago Morales said with a charming smile. “Get in if you want to see the light of day.”

Lola was skeptical, ready to back away and run this time. But… how far could she run? Who knew how many more of these maniacs casually waited by the sidewalk, preparing to ambush her?

With a deep, exasperated sigh, she swung the passenger door open and hopped in. The sports car zoomed off immediately the door banged shut, leaving behind puzzling expressions from innocent bystanders and stalkers alike.

“How did you find me?” Lola demanded.

“Good to see you, too,” Santiago replied instead with a smirk. “And I’m so happy that you appreciate my coming to save you. Oh? You dreamt of me? That’s crazy!”

“I did not!” Lola’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched. She cleared her throat and composed herself with a deep breath. He was baiting her; there was no way he could’ve known about those bizarre dreams of hers.

“That’s way too much arrogance to respond to,” she said in a more collected tone. “And you still haven’t answered the question.”

“The same way your new admirers found you, muñequita,” he quipped.

Lola’s expression showed she wasn’t catching on. “Which was…?”

Santiago groaned as he swerved around a slow vehicle. “This is the golden age of information, muñequita. One can find anything about anyone if they know where to look. In your case, it was your LinkedIn profile. Also, do you freelance?”

Lola massaged her temples. Everything was spinning out of order, leaving her with no chance to recover. And it didn’t help that she was in a car going up to two hundred miles an hour.

“That woman on the sidewalk,” she muttered. “She said something about an engagement. What the hell was she talking about?”

Santiago squinted at her. “Do you happen to live on a rock? I thought you would’ve heard about it by now. It’s probably why those weirdos were after you, tryna fish for more details. I mean, I was going to tell you, but—.”

“Santiago !” Lola snapped, the pressure finally getting to her. “What are you yapping on about? What engagement?”

On a different day, it would’ve been fun to see the invincible Santiago Morales look nervous and uneasy. But all Lola could think of was her life crumbling before her very eyes, thanks to fifteen minutes of unhinged horniness.

“Well,” Santiago started, “Gabriele showed me a blog on X that carried your photo and a whole article about how you were the latest plaything in my collection. I called it what it was—bullshit. I expected it to simmer down as immediately as it came up. Surprisingly, it didn’t. And… well, I had a rather awkward press conference yesterday, where I may have admitted to making you my fiancée. And the press ate it all up, and social media started buzzing, and—.”

“Stop the car.”

Santiago turned to Lola with a frown. A deadpan expression took over her features, in no way dimming her beauty, but making her look more solemn than he’d seen her before. She didn’t even spare him a glance when she spoke again.

“I’m three seconds away from grabbing that wheel myself and sending us both to our deaths. So it’s in your best interest to pull over. Now.”

Santiago kept his eyes glued to Lola for a moment. Then he finally came to a stop, parking just a few yards from a gas station. Lola wasted no time in pushing the door open and marching into a convenience store adjacent to the station. Santiago, on the other hand, lingered behind like he was trying to decide between going after her or driving away. He groaned again.

“I don’t even use gas,” he mumbled as he yanked his seatbelt loose. “The car is freaking electric.”