EMILY’S POVI wipe the sweat from Carlos’s brow for what must be the fifth time today. He’s been healing well, stronger by the day, but the stubborn man still pushes himself too hard when no one’s looking. He hates feeling helpless. Hates staying in bed, being doted on. He’ll never admit it, but I can tell.“Emily.” He says.I glance down. He’s propped himself up on one elbow. His blue eyes catch the sunlight that slips through the open window. The sight of him like this makes my heart skip a beat.God, he’s gorgeous.Still, I can’t deny the mischievous glint in his eyes—the same one that got us into trouble more times than I can count.“I want to go for a walk,” he says.My hands pause mid-fold, a soft towel half-rolled in my lap. “Carlos…”“Please.”“You’re not strong enough yet,” I counter gently, smoothing the towel and setting it down. “You’ve barely recovered, remember? The doctor says you need to be on bed rest”He chuckles “You make it sound dramatic.”“Carlos, you almost died
THIRD PERSON'S POVThe camera is steady. Its lens are trained tightly on Marcelo’s face. The background is neutral, plain, and polished—crafted to look professional. What the public can’t see, however, is the truth just beyond the frame.A gloved hand holds a gun firmly to the back of Marcelo’s head, and Daniel stands just out of sight. His eyes are filled with hatred. His posture says it all – one wrong move and you’re dead.Marcelo takes a shaky breath. His hands tremble in his lap, but his voice—practiced, rehearsed—sounds clear.“To the public, to the press, to all those I’ve misled… I want to apologize,” he says. “Over the past week, I have shared false and damaging information about the Carter family—particularly Henry Carter. I claimed that he was involved in the death of a whistleblower. I claimed that he orchestrated things behind the scenes, that he was corrupt. But none of that… none of it is true.”He swallows hard. His eyes move to the barrel behind him that no one can se
EMILYS POVThe private villa is quiet.Carlos was moved here, to his private villa, to recover. It’s Carlos’s place to heal and mine too, though I don’t know it at first.Carlos is unconscious for the first day and delirious for the next two. But I stay. I stay through the fevers, the nightmares, the clenched fists and incoherent murmurs. I stay through the silence.And now… he’s finally getting better.His chest rises steadily and the colour is slowly returning to his skin. His cheeks no longer look so hollow. His breathing is no longer ragged. Each time his eyes open and stay open just a little longer, I feel like I can finally exhale.I barely leave his side. I don’t want to.I bring him warm broth in the mornings, gently spooning it to his lips when he’s too weak to hold the bowl. His hand brushes mine—intentionally or not—and my heart flips every time.I wipe his brow when the fever comes back in the early hours, pressing a cool cloth to his skin, whispering soft reassurances eve
EMILY’S POVThe steady beeping of the monitor is the only sound that keeps me tethered to reality. I’ve been sitting beside Carlos for what feels like an eternity, even though it’s only been a night.His face is pale. Too pale.Wires and tubes connect him to machines keeping track of every breath, every heartbeat, every fluctuation of his vitals. His lips are dry, chapped. His skin is pale.. He doesn’t look like Carlos. He looks like a shell… and I’m terrified.I reach over and gently brush my fingers across the back of his hand, careful not to disturb the IV line.“I’m still here, you know,” I whisper. I glance down at my slightly rounded belly, resting my hand there with a sigh. “And so is she.”I don’t realize how tightly I’m holding back tears until one slips from the corner of my eye.“She’s stubborn. Just like you. Kicks like she’s been training in the womb for a world war,” I say softly, half-laughing through the ache in my chest. “She’s waiting for her daddy to wake up and tel
EMILY'S POVI’m not ready for the scream.It echoes through the air loudly. My body stiffens and every nerve of mine is suddenly on high alert. I turn to Daniel.“What was that?” I ask.He looks just as startled, but when our eyes meet, there’s only one name in both our minds.“Carlos.” We both say.Without another word, I take off running in the direction where I saw Carlos go earlier. My heart is pounding violently against my ribs. Daniel is right beside me, running after me.We follow the direction of the scream, rounding the corner past the corner where the crowd has started to form. My breath hitches in my throat when I see it — a small circle of people clustered around something — someone — on the ground.“Move!” I scream, pushing through bodies, not caring who I shove or who yells at me.And then I see him.Carlos.No. No. No. No.He’s on the ground. His body keeps jerking. His eyes are rolled back, and white foam leaks from his mouth. His fingers are curled, twitching uncontro
EMILY’S POVThe night is going well, better than I think it would. After hours of talking to the investors, Carlos and I check how much we’ve raised.“Four hundred and ninety-three million,” I whisper, reading the screen. My heart skips. “Carlos, we’re nearly there.” Our goal for the project is five hundred million.This is great news. It means we’ve managed to salvage the situation.His hand slides to the small of my back. I turn to look at him. I can tell how relieved he is. “We’re going to hit five hundred. You pulled this off,” I say.He lets out a slow breath, as if he hasn’t allowed himself to believe it until now.“We pulled this off, Emily.” His voice is sincere. Then he meets my gaze fully, intensely. “But I could’ve never done this without you.”My breath catches. There’s something in the way he says it — not just the words, but the way he says them. I open my mouth to respond, but the orchestra music changes.“The waltz,” Carlos says. He turns to me, extending his hand. “Sh