Don Antonio's POVI spent the night in a restless haze, the silence of her absence punctuated only by the echo of my own anxious thoughts. I went over every detail of my last encounter with her—the tears, the fierce spirit, the look in her eyes that had been a mix of defiance and deep pain. Had my actions, my decision to give her space, been a mistake? Was my protective nature, as Xavier had hinted, becoming a gilded cage that I was foolishly trying to build around her?The urge to reach out to her became an unbearable itch. My hand kept hovering over the phone, my thumb hovering over her contact. I needed to hear her voice, to confirm she was safe, to bridge this sudden, inexplicable distance between us. The strategic considerations, the warnings about giving her room to breathe, felt like empty platitudes against the raw, emotional pull I felt. I couldn't just sit here, blind to her well-being, while she was out there, vulnerable and hurting.I finally called Xavier, my voice betray
Alexa's POVThe fury of my outburst still vibrated through my body, leaving me breathless and shaken. I had hung up on my dad without waiting for a response, the phone call a blur of raw emotion and venom. The silence that followed was heavy, but beneath it, a strange sense of relief settled in. The dam had broken, and all the resentment I had bottled up for weeks had finally poured out. It felt a little liberating, a little terrifying.My heart was still hammering against my ribs, and my hands trembled slightly. The sheer audacity of his phone call, followed by Elsie's threat, had pushed me to my breaking point. I sat back in my studio chair, the designs I had been working on now looking like a meaningless jumble of lines. My new beginning, my fragile peace, felt irrevocably tainted.Just as I was trying to collect my thoughts, my phone vibrated again. I flinched, my stomach knotting. Was it him again? Had I really given him another chance to hurt me? I stared at the screen, and to m
Alexa's POV The girls' trip with Sarah had been a whirlwind of frantic distraction. We'd bounced from one activity to another – long walks on the beach, too much laughter over shared meals, spontaneous dancing in small, lively cafes. Andrew, bless his charming heart, had even tagged along for a few days, his easygoing presence a welcome buffer against the storm brewing inside me. He was fun, uncomplicated, a temporary balm for a deeply wounded soul. For brief, fleeting moments, I could almost forget.But as our flight back descended, the illusion began to crack. The familiar skyline, the humid air hitting me as I stepped off the plane – it all served as a harsh reminder that the escape was over. The real world, with its impossible choices and unresolved conflicts, was waiting.The taxi ride from the airport was quiet, a stark contrast to the carefree chatter that had filled our car just days before. Sarah, sensing my deepening mood, simply squeezed my hand, a silent offer of support.
Don Antonio's POVDonald’s unexpected bid for a truce had thrown my entire strategic world into disarray, demanding constant attention, endless meetings, and meticulous re-evaluation of every long-held plan. Normally, I thrived in such environments – the sharper the challenge, the keener my focus. But not anymore.My intelligence network confirmed Alexa hadn't gone to the secluded island I'd arranged. Instead, she was with Sarah, seeking solace on a girls' trip. A part of me, the strategic part, understood this. It was her way of coping, her need for familiar comfort. But the personal part of me, the one that missed her fiercely, felt a fresh pang of anxiety. Had my careful distance been perceived as abandonment?Despite the personal turmoil, my professional life, ironically, was flourishing. The strategic moves I’d made over the past months, combined with the instability Donald’s internal issues were causing him, were finally paying off. New contracts were being signed, key territori
Alexa's POVI woke up in Andrew's unfamiliar arms, the brief, intense distraction of the night before doing little to fill the cavernous emptiness in my chest. If anything, it only amplified the gnawing ache of Don Antonio's absence and the impossible dilemma my mother had thrust upon me. Sarah was already awake, sipping tea in her hotel room. She gave me a knowing, sympathetic look but didn't press for details, for which I was eternally grateful. The weight of my choices, of my shattered life, felt heavier than ever. The club night had offered only a temporary reprieve, and now the harsh light of day made everything seem even more bleak.I was curled on Sarah's bed, nursing a lukewarm mug of tea, trying to drown out the swirling thoughts in my head when my phone vibrated. I glanced at the screen, and my breath hitched. It was a message from a number I hadn't seen in days, one I had desperately hoped wouldn't contact me so soon. My stomach clenched. Even the sight of her name, or ra
Alexa's POVTonight, that escape began. Sarah had declared that before we could figure out where to go next, we needed to purge the negativity. And there was only one way she knew how: a night out.I was hesitant at first. The thought of loud music and crowds felt overwhelming after the emotional storm I’d been through. But Sarah was insistent, her energy infectious. "Come on, Alexa," she’d said, pulling out a sparkly top from her closet. "You need to dance it out. Scream it out. Just for a few hours, forget everything."Against my better judgment, I agreed. Sarah, with her boundless energy, transformed us both. A little makeup, a splash of perfume, and suddenly, the reflection in the mirror wasn't just a tear-stained wreck. It was me, or at least, a faint echo of the girl I used to be.The taxi ride to the club was filled with Sarah’s chatter, her excitement a deliberate shield against my lingering gloom. As we approached, the thumping bass vibrated through the streets, growing loude