As soon as Theo’s mother’s presence faded from the room, the tension that had been simmering boiled over. He didn’t say a word to me, his jaw tight and eyes dark with barely restrained fury. Without a glance in my direction, he stormed toward the door and pressed a button on the sleek intercom panel embedded in the wall.
“Get in here. Now,” Theo growled, his voice like thunder. He didn’t wait for a response. Within moments, the door opened, and a man in his late thirties entered. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he moved with military precision. His face was calm, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes as he took in Theo’s expression. “Sir—” the man began, but he didn’t even finish the word before Theo’s hand struck across his face in a resounding slap. The sound echoed through the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. The man barely flinched, though his head turned slightly from the force of the slap. He stood rigid, his expression stoic, as if he had expected this reaction. Theo took a step closer, his voice icy and laced with venom. “Explain to me, now, why I wasn’t informed that my mother was inside the house.” The man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, but he held his ground. “Sir, I—she arrived unannounced. She used her access code. We weren’t aware until she was already inside.” Theo’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he stepped even closer, the fury radiating off him palpable. “You’re telling me,” he hissed, “that my own staff failed to inform me that she entered my home? That you allowed her to walk in here as if this is some sort of… open invitation?” “Sir, we didn’t know—” the man started again, but Theo cut him off sharply. “You didn’t know?” Theo’s voice rose slightly, though it never lost its sharp, controlled edge. “What the hell am I paying you for? Your job is to know everything that happens under this roof. Everything. Do you understand me?” The man nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.” Theo took a step back, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Damn right, it won’t,” he snapped. “If something like this happens again, you’ll be lucky if all you get is a slap. Do I make myself clear?” “Yes, sir,” the man said firmly, though there was a flicker of tension in his jaw. Theo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he turned away, as if trying to rein in his temper. “Get out of my sight,” he muttered coldly. “And make sure she doesn’t come waltzing in here again without my express permission.” The man nodded once, stiffly, and turned to leave. As the door closed behind him, the silence in the room felt heavier than before. I watched Theo’s back as he stood there, his shoulders tense, his breathing uneven. Theo turned slowly to face me, his dark eyes filled with lingering frustration. For a moment, I thought he might apologize, but instead, his expression hardened. “You’re going to have to fake it,” he said, his tone cold and matter-of-fact. “In front of her. You’ll play the role of my girlfriend until this situation is resolved. No arguments.” I blinked at him, the demand catching me off guard. My first instinct was to protest, but the intensity in his gaze made me think better of it. Instead, I gave a small, reluctant nod, unwilling to push him further when he was already on edge. “Good,” Theo said curtly. He took a step back, his hands still flexing at his sides as if he were trying to release the tension. “For now, stay out of sight. I’ll deal with her. I’ll have someone take you back to your room.” Without waiting for a response, Theo turned and pressed another button on the intercom. “Bell,” he barked. Bell stepped into the room, her posture straight and her demeanor composed. “Sir,” she said calmly, her eyes flicking between Theo and me for a brief moment, likely sensing the charged atmosphere. Theo didn’t waste a second. “Take her back to her room,” he ordered brusquely, gesturing toward me without meeting my eyes. “I don’t want her wandering around or crossing paths with anyone else right now. Do you understand?” Bell nodded, her face remaining impassive. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Theo’s voice was sharp, his tone final. He didn’t spare me a second glance as he turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Bell stepped aside and motioned for me to follow her. I hesitated for a moment, glancing at Theo, but it was clear that any further interaction with him would be futile. With a quiet sigh, I walked toward Bell, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Bell walked ahead of me in silence, her footsteps steady and unhurried. I followed without a word, my mind racing with everything that had just happened. She led me through the long, quiet hallways until we reached the door to my room. I stepped inside, and before I could say anything, I heard the click of the lock behind me. Turning around, I saw Bell standing there with the key in her hand. As I sat alone in the room, the lock clicking behind me, the weight of everything hit me. I felt trapped, like a prisoner. This wasn’t just a locked door; it was my life now, controlled by Theo and his rules. I thought back to when life was different, back when my mom was alive. We didn’t have much, but we were happy. She made everything feel safe and warm. After she died, everything fell apart. My dad wasn’t the same. Grief consumed him, and he started making bad choices. He got involved with people like Theo, desperate to fix things but only making them worse. He drank more, stopped caring about work, and lost one job after another. The little money we had went into bad investments or gambling, and we lost it all. I remembered going to bed hungry, wearing the same clothes to school, and feeling ashamed of being the poor kid. Then came the day he told me everything was gone—our home, our savings, our future. I was only 16, but it felt like my whole world had ended. I tried to hold us together, taking on jobs to keep us afloat. But no matter how hard I worked, it was never enough. We had to rely on food banks and hand-me-downs from neighbors. The shame of it all weighed heavily on me, but I kept going because I had no other choice. Even with all his mistakes, my dad kept trying too. He wanted to make things right, but he just couldn’t. And now, because of him, we were in debt to someone like Theo.Theo’s POVEvening came too soon.Sofia was already ready, baby Martha bundled up in her arms. The sight of them by the door, prepared to leave, made something in my chest tighten. I wasn’t the type to dwell on emotions, but this—this was different.I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe I wouldn’t get to watch my daughter grow.I might miss her first babbling, the first time she sits up, the moment she learns to crawl, her first steps—every milestone, every little thing that parents are supposed to witness. I might miss all of it.And the worst part? I had no one to blame but myself.Sofia adjusted Martha’s blanket, making sure she was warm. She hadn’t said much since we got back from the hospital. She barely looked at me unless necessary, keeping her focus on Martha. I understood why. I hadn’t given her much reason to believe in me—to believe in us.But now, with them standing at the door, ready to leave, I felt something close to desperation clawing at my chest.
The next morning, I woke up feeling like a stranger in my own life. The weight in my chest hadn’t lifted. It was still there, heavy and suffocating, but I had to keep moving. I couldn't afford to stop.I dragged myself out of bed, my body aching as I made my way to the bathroom. The shower water hit my skin like a cold reminder of everything I was leaving behind. I let it run over me, trying to wash away the exhaustion, the pain, the fear. It didn't help.Once I was done, I dressed quickly. A simple outfit, nothing too fancy. I didn’t have the energy for anything else.The hospital. I had to get Martha. She was strong now. No longer in the NICU. She was ready to leave.I picked up my phone and called a cab. I couldn’t drive, not with the way my hands were shaking. The thought of Theo following me made my stomach tighten, but there was nothing I could do. He was a part of this now.I heard a knock on the door just as I was finishing up. I opened it to see him standing there.He didn’t
Sofia's POVManchester.A fresh start. A life away from the blood, the lies, and the war that had shaped every part of me.It was what I wanted.Wasn’t it?I looked down at my hands, my fingers still curled into fists. I forced them to relax.I should have been relieved. The contract was over. The chains that had bound me to him were gone. I could walk away, take Martha, and never look back.But instead of relief, all I felt was… empty.I lifted my eyes to him. His expression was blank, but I knew him well enough to see what he wasn’t saying.He meant it this time. He was letting me go.No more fights. No more power plays. No more waiting for him to change the rules.I swallowed, my throat tight.This was it. The moment I had fought for, the moment I had dreamed of.So why did it feel like my chest was caving in?I forced myself to speak. “You really set everything up.”His nod was almost imperceptible. “You and Martha will have everything you need.”I hesitated. “And you?”He exhaled
Three Days LaterThe air was thick with grief. The cemetery was silent except for the occasional rustle of wind through the trees, the distant sound of birds chirping—too peaceful for a day like this.Two graves.Two names carved into stone.Martha Rodriguez.Javier Vargas.One was my mother. The other was the man I had killed.Sofia stood beside me, dressed in black, her face unreadable. She hadn’t spoken much since I told her we would be burying them together, giving her father the funeral he had been denied. I wasn’t sure how she felt about it.Maybe she didn’t know either.She had barely looked at me since that night in the NICU. Since I had finally let her go.I glanced down at the caskets. One was polished mahogany, sleek and expensive—exactly what my mother would have wanted. The other was simpler, darker, almost as if it carried the weight of the sins attached to it.Javier Vargas had died a traitor. A man I had buried in secrecy.Now, he was finally being laid to rest.Sofia
One Week LaterMartha was still in the NICU. She was stronger than she had been, her tiny body fighting every single day, but she was still so fragile.Sofia never left her side.She sat in the recliner beside the incubator, eyes locked on our daughter. Her body was still recovering, her movements slow and careful, but she didn’t seem to care. The doctors and nurses had to remind her to rest, to eat, but she only did so reluctantly, as if every second away from Martha was a second wasted.And me?I stood just outside the room, watching.I had been inside, had held Martha once under Sofia’s insistent gaze, but I still couldn’t shake the fear that gripped me whenever I looked at her.She was so small. Too small.What if I wasn’t enough?What if I failed her, the same way I had failed Javier?The guilt sat heavy in my chest, an anchor I couldn’t shake.“Rodriguez.”I stiffened at the voice behind me and turned to see Dr. Reyes watching me with a knowing expression. He was an older man, h
Two Days LaterSofia had improved. Her color was better, her strength returning bit by bit. She still moved slowly, but there was determination in her every action.And today, she was ready.I had done everything to delay this moment. Avoided every conversation about when she could see the baby. But the doctor had given his approval this morning, and there was no stopping her now.Me?I hadn’t even gone to the NICU.I told myself it was because Sofia should see the baby first. That she should have that moment before anyone else.But deep down, I knew the truth.I couldn’t bring myself to face the child.Because what story could I tell them?That they were born from violence? That their existence was a cruel twist of fate? That the first breath they took in this world was surrounded by tragedy?I didn’t even know the baby’s gender.Sofia didn’t notice my hesitation. She was too focused on getting out of bed, on making it to the wheelchair the nurse had brought in. Her fingers trembled