LOGINSantoro's POV
“Drive safe, okay?” I said as I leaned down and planted a kiss on Lucia’s lips.
She giggled, full of herself like always.
“Of course. And tell your mom goodnight for me.”
She climbed into her car, waved like she was Miss Spain and then drove off while I turned back toward the front door.
The moment I stepped into the living room, my mother clapped her hands together like she just won bingo.
“Well done, Santoro!” she said proudly. “You finally got rid of that Sofia girl today and I’m so proud of you, my son.”
I dropped onto the couch, feeling like someone had knocked the air out of me.
“Yeah… great.”
She frowned.
“Oh, not this long face again.”
“Mom,” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, “Sofia… she really did a lot for us.. for me, personally and you can’t deny that.”
My mother rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d fall out.
“There you go again! Always soft! Always emotional! I don’t know why you act like this. You’re a man, Santoro. A strong one. Stop thinking with your heart.”
“I’m not thinking with my heart,” I muttered. “I’m just stating facts.”
“She helped you, yes,” she snapped. “But help doesn’t mean she belongs here forever. Now look at your future! Lucia is the Mayor’s daughter. The Mayor’s daughter!” She pointed a finger in the air as if she was giving a speech. “Do you know what that means?”
“Apparently a lot,” I said under my breath.
“It means,” she went on dramatically, “that you are going to rise higher and higher. Imagine it. My son, son-in-law of Mayor Eduardo. You will have influence, respect and power. Not like before when people looked down on us because of that Sofia girl and her drama.”
I sighed.
“Mom, her ‘drama’ was usually you yelling at her.”
She ignored that completely.
“Now we can finally breathe.”
I wanted to breathe too… but instead I felt this strange guilt twisting inside me and Sofia’s face when she signed the papers… I couldn’t get it out of my head.
We were still talking... or arguing really... when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an unknown number.
“I’ll get it,” I said, standing up.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A firm voice came through.
“Good evening. Is this Mr. Santoro Escobar?”
“That’s me.”
“This is San Rafael General Hospital.”
My heart skipped.
“Hospital? Why...?”
“We’re calling about your wife, Mrs. Sofia Esteban.”
My chest tightened.
“Ex-wife,” I muttered automatically and then quickly added, “What happened?”
“She was involved in a serious car accident. We need you to come as fast as possible.”
I froze.
“Is she...? I mean… is she alive?”
“She is alive,” the voice said. “But in critical condition. Please come immediately.”
The call ended before I could say anything else and I lowered the phone slowly as my mother looked at me.
“What now?”
“It’s… Sofia,” I said. “She had an accident.”
“So?” my mother replied instantly, blinking like she didn’t see the problem.
“Mom, they said she’s badly injured. I have to go.”
“No, you do not!” she snapped. “Let her family handle it. You’re done with her, Santoro! You divorced her today!”
“She signed but the hospital doesn’t know,” I said. “As far as they’re concerned, I’m still her husband.”
“Let them call the Estebans,” she said firmly. “You owe that girl nothing. Nothing!”
“She helped me,” I said again, louder than before. “And she’s hurt! What am I supposed to do? Sit here and eat dessert?!”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Mom!” I grabbed my keys. “I’m going.”
“Don’t be stupid, Santoro!”
But I was already at the door and this time, I didn’t look back.
***When I reached the hospital, I went straight to the reception desk.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’m looking for my...” I stopped, corrected myself again, “...for Sofia Esteban. She was brought here a short while ago.”
The receptionist typed fast and nodded.
“Yes, sir. She’s in Ward 3B. Down the hall, left side.”
I hurried there and when I reached the hallway, a doctor was already waiting outside the room like he expected me.
“You must be Mr. Escobar,” he said.
“Yes… yes, I’m here. How is she?”
He sighed.
“She was brought in with severe internal injuries, heavy bleeding, broken ribs and a head injury. She lost consciousness before arriving. Right now she’s in a coma.”
I felt like I’d been punched.
“A coma?”
“We are monitoring her closely,” he said. “We’ll do everything we can.”
Before I could ask more, a familiar voice snapped from behind me.
“So you came.”
I turned and it was Sofia’s mother. Mrs. Esteban and her eyes burned with anger the moment they met mine.
Great. Just what I needed.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t you hurt my daughter enough?”
“I... I just...” I stammered. “I came because they called me. I didn’t know what happened.”
“How did you even get here so fast?” I asked. “The hospital said they only called me.”
“They didn’t have to call me,” she shot back. “My husband is already admitted here too. I was here when they wheeled my daughter in, covered in blood. My daughter, Santoro!”
I swallowed hard.
“Mrs. Esteban, I...”
“No!” she snapped. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid. You destroyed her life. You dragged her away from her family and you made her father and brother turn their backs on her. And for what? So you could use her as a means to get rich overnight?!”
I winced.
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh? Then how is it?” she pressed.
I rubbed my face.
“We… We divorced today. She signed the papers. It’s done.”
The explosion was immediate.
“You worthless man!” she almost shouted. “We all knew you were up to no good! Every single one of us!”
The hallway went silent and even the doctor looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Everyone feared and respected the Esteban family name.
Just then, another doctor approached and cleared his throat.
“Mr. Escobar? Can I speak with you privately, please?”
Mrs. Esteban scoffed.
“Yes, go. Go hear what you’ve done!”
I followed the doctor down the hall until we were alone near a corner.
He looked around, lowered his voice and said, “There’s something else we found.”
“What?” I asked, suddenly nervous.
He hesitated.
“While examining Mrs. Escobar, we discovered she was about a week pregnant.”
My heart stopped. Pregnant. Sofia… pregnant?
“She might not have known,” the doctor said gently. “It was extremely early.”
I stared at him with my mouth dry.
“She… she was really pregnant?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “But… the trauma from the accident caused a miscarriage.”
Everything inside me twisted painfully. A baby? We… could have had a baby?!
The doctor spoke quietly, “We thought you should know… since you’re her husband on record.”
I nodded slowly, unable to speak.
My head felt blurry, my chest hurt and the world felt too quiet as the doctor stepped back, giving me space.
Somewhere down the hall, I could still hear Sofia’s mother pacing… crying… muttering but all I could hear clearly were the doctor’s words..
She was pregnant and she miscarried during the accident…!
Sofia’s POVThe morning sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows of the chapel, painting the marble floors in soft gold and rose. Outside, the gardens were full of white flowers swaying gently in the breeze. Music floated through the open doors, tender and elegant, wrapping itself around every heartbeat in the room.I stood at the entrance with my mother beside me.My hands trembled around the bouquet of ivory roses. My dress flowed around me in layers of satin and lace, fitted close at the waist before spilling into a long train.Tiny crystals had been sewn into the veil, catching the light like stars. My mother adjusted the veil with careful fingers.Her eyes were wet.“You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen,” she whispered.“You have to say that. You’re my mother.” I laughed shakily. “No,” she said, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I say it because after everything... you are still standing here.”Emotion rushed into my throat so fast I could barely breathe.
Matteo’s POVThe anonymous call came while I stood alone in the ruined garden where our wedding should have happened.Half-filled champagne glasses sat abandoned beside melting candles. The band had packed up in silence an hour earlier. Reporters still waited beyond the gates, and my guests had become witnesses to a disaster.Sofia was gone!!“Where is she?” I barked.There was shuffling, panic, then a loud scream somewhere in the background. A gunshot exploded through the speaker, the line crackled.Then silence…“Hello? Hello!” My blood froze.Nothing.“Julian!” I turned and shouted across the garden.“What happened?” He sprinted toward me immediately, tie hanging loose, face white with exhaustion and rage.“I had a call. Someone had Sofia, but there was a gunshot.” I explained.Julian did not waste a second. He pulled out his phone and dialed the private investigator we had hired earlier that afternoon.“Track this number now,” he snapped the moment the man answered. “I don’t car
Sofia’s POVThe moment Lucia pressed the gun into my ribs and forced me through the servants’ corridor, I understood one thing with terrifying clarity.This was never about escape, or even money. This was about hatred so deep it had rotted her mind from the inside out.She shoved me forward with one hand twisted in my veil and the other gripping the gun. My heels had already come off somewhere behind us, so my bare feet slapped against cold tile as she dragged me through the back hallways of the estate. Staff had been kept away by the wedding preparations. Music from the garden drifted faintly through the walls, cheerful and beautiful and completely disconnected from the nightmare happening only meters away.“Move,” Lucia hissed into my ear.“You’ll never get away with this,” I whispered.She struck the back of my shoulder with the gun hard enough to make me stumble. “Today is not the day to threaten me, bride.” She laughed. We reached the service gate where delivery vehicles enter
Matteo’s POVThe garden was ready for forever.The aisle had been lined with petals so soft and thick it looked like clouds had been cut into pieces and laid across the stone path.Guests filled the seats in bright colors and polished jewels, whispering with excited smiles while cameras from invited media stations captured every elegant detail.Everything was prepared, except the bride. I stood near the floral altar with my hands clasped in front of me, pretending calm I did not feel. My suit had been tailored to perfection. My cufflinks were engraved with Sofia’s initials. My heartbeat had not slowed since sunrise.“If she changes her mind now, I’ll kill her myself.” Julian leaned close beside me and muttered.“She wouldn’t.” I glanced at him. “Good! Because I already like you.” He grinned.The guests laughed softly at something one of the ushers said, music rose and faded. Phones came out, heads turned again toward the mansion doors, but still nothing.I checked my watch for the f
Sofia’s POVI woke before sunrise. Not because anyone called me, or alarms rang, or the house was noisy. I woke because my heart knew what day it was.For a moment I lay still in the white blankets staring at the ceiling while dawn painted pale gold across the room. The mansion was quiet, suspended in silence before celebration begins. Somewhere below, I could already hear distant movement, staff arranging flowers, doors opening, footsteps hurrying, and voices trying to whisperMy wedding day!The words felt even more unbelievable even now. Even though I had done this before, last time was nothing compared to this in such a way I can't even explain. After everything that had happened, after funerals and trials and betrayals and nights I thought life had ended for me, I was here. Alive, loved, safe, and about to marry the man who had held me together when I was falling apart.I covered my face and laughed softly into my hands. Then the bedroom doors burst open.“She's awake!” Julia
Sofia’s POVThe week after the engagement party, I woke to three things.Sunlight through the curtains, Matteo asleep with one arm around my waist, and my phone vibrating itself off the bedside table.I groaned and reached for it. Seventy-three missed calls, one hundred and nineteen unread messages, and three thousand notifications.“Absolutely not.” I stared at the screen.“What crisis requires that face before coffee?” Matteo’s voice came rough with sleep behind me. “The nation has decided our engagement belongs to them.” My eyes widened.I scrolled through messages from friends, executives, distant relatives who suddenly remembered my birthday.Media houses requesting interviews, luxury brands offering gifts, wedding planners introducing themselves like they had been summoned.Then there were the comments online.“He looked at her like she invented happiness.”“This wedding better be televised.”“If Matteo Aldana has one fan, it is me.”“If Sofia’s dress isn’t historic, I riot.”I







