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Smile Pretty, Stab Quietly
Last Updated:
2025-07-23 16:52:54
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TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN A Staircase Worth Running For
A few hours after that conversation, I woke again as the plane’s wheels kissed the runway with a gentle thud. Through the window, Medellín greeted me with a pale pre-dawn sky and the silhouette of mountains framing the city like an old painting.Jevan didn’t say a word as we disembarked. He simply steered me toward the black car already waiting, and before I could ask where we were going, the door shut, the engine roared, and we were gliding out of the airport.The drive to the Serrano mansion always made me feel like a character in a high-end mafia film. A private road cutting through the hillside, lush trees blocking out the rest of the world, and mountain air carrying the scent of wet earth.Once we passed the massive iron gates with the family crest welded into the center, I could see the house from a distance: sprawling, layered with stone balconies, and lined with tall windows catching the first gold of morning light.And in front of it… a crowd.Not strangers. Family. All of th
TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN No More Stone Walls
The helicopter touched down in a town that felt like it belonged in a fairytale, faded old buildings, cobblestone streets, and salty air laced with the scent of toasted bread from cafés that either opened too early or stayed open too late.But that wasn’t what made the place different.What made it special was the fact that no one outside my family dared set foot here without permission.This was Serrano territory. And in Serrano territory, the word “no” was only ever spoken by people who wanted to disappear.The rotor blades slowed, then stopped. Jevan stepped out first and offered his hand. I took it too tightly, but he didn’t let go.My steps felt heavy, but I didn’t say a word. Somehow, any sentence would’ve sounded stupid next to the pounding in my ears.We walked down a narrow path lit by dim yellow streetlights, flanked by two armed men whose faces I vaguely remembered from family meetings years ago. They didn’t look at us, but I knew they were scanning every shadow.Jevan stay
TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN Smoke, Salt, and Serranos
I stepped out of the phone booth, hoping my stride looked purposeful rather than desperate.This old city had layers. Its cobblestone streets twisted and narrowed, crowded with tourists snapping photos of pale-painted walls. Salt-laced sea air drifted through narrow alleys, mixing with the scent of grilled fish and fresh bread.Thirty minutes.Javi said thirty minutes.I grabbed a hoodie from the car seat and pulled it over my head, covering part of my face. I slipped my car key into my pocket, just in case I needed to vanish again. I refused to be caught empty-handed.My pace was fast, but I made sure not to rush. Papa always said, “If you run, everyone runs. But if you walk like you’ve got somewhere to be, only the smartest people realize you’re running away.”I passed a fruit stall. The vendor shouted offers of big oranges. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Momentum mattered.Behind me, the sound of boots clicked on stone. Not tourist boots. Too heavy. Too deliberate.I didn’t turn. I vee
TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN Heartbeat Exit
I waited. Sitting at the edge of the bed like a nun fresh from confession, except my sins weren’t meant to be forgiven.It was 1:00 p.m. when I heard the first sound. A spoon dropped.Then laughter.Then… silence.I stood slowly, cracking the bedroom door open half an inch. The hallway looked normal. No polished shoes clicking on the floor. No whispers over walkie-talkies. Just silence.Too much of it.My first step felt like the first step of a prisoner who didn’t know if they were walking into heaven… or a bullet.I took the west wing. The part of the house that’s usually the most guarded, it’s connected to the service area and the underground garage. Normally, there’d be two armed men stationed at the end of the corridor.Today? One was slumped in a wicker chair, head tilted back, mouth open like a baby after warm milk. The other was passed out sideways on a small couch, one hand still clutching the TV remote.Ah.The sweetness of a small victory tasted better than revenge.I walke
TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN Burn the Map, I’m Not Coming Back
I sat at the edge of the bed, chin resting on my knees, staring blankly at the curtain swaying gently in the breeze. The sea air drifted in, carrying hints of salt and a faint trace of coconut trees from the garden below. But it wasn’t enough to wash away the boredom curdling in my chest like day-old coffee.My mind wandered to forbidden territory:If only I hadn’t been kidnapped.If only I were still at Matteo’s house...God, even my own brain groaned in protest.By now, I’d probably be sitting at that long marble table, surrounded by bodyguards pretending not to listen while Matteo dictated my schedule like some god-complex secretary.Breakfast would arrive without question, usually a too-delicate French butter croissant, Valencia orange juice, and a cup of black coffee that tasted like a passive-aggressive threat.I’d nod, smile like the obedient wife I pretended to be, and try not to stab him with a fork when he said, “Don’t go out today, sweetheart. The world’s unstable.”Then, l
TO HATE, TO TOUCH, TO RUIN Trapped, Bored, Beautiful
I slept like a rock.No.... I mean, it’s more like a rock hurled into the middle of a lake, sinking straight to the bottom and never resurfacing.That was me last night.After a shower hot enough to boil my regrets, scrubbing every inch of my skin until the scent of lavender finally overpowered the maddening trace of a man who, unfortunately, still lingered...I stormed into the walk-in closet, slammed the wardrobe door shut, chose a pajama set with the fury of a young widow, and crawled into bed while unleashing the rudest string of curses I knew in three languages.And still, I slept like a baby.I woke up this morning yawning wide like a lioness who forgot she’s being kept by the mafia. The blanket was a mess, pillows everywhere, my hair looked like it had been in a gang fight, and one leg was dangling off the bed like a scene from a telenovela.I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, groaning internally, weighing whether I should start cursing Zach first thing or wait until aft
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