MasukTeresa's POV The flight felt longer than it actually was, and by the time we stepped off the small boat that brought us to the island, my body felt heavy in a way that had nothing to do with stress and everything to do with finally letting go. The air was warm and soft, the sound of the water steady and calm, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was stepping into a place where nothing bad had ever happened to me.Mark stayed close beside me as we walked toward the villa, our bags carried by someone from the resort who greeted us politely and then disappeared just as quickly. The path was lined with tall palm trees and thick green plants, and everything looked untouched, quiet, almost private in a way I was not used to. When we reached the villa, I stopped for a moment just to take it in.It was open and bright, with wide glass doors that led straight to a stretch of sand that belonged only to us. The pool curved along the edge of the villa, and beyond it was the ocean
Another pause. Then she started crying. It was not quiet crying. It was the kind that came from deep inside, the kind that made it hard for her to speak. Sobs that she tried to muffle but could not."I didn't think you would ever call me again," she said."I didn't think I would either.""I've been wanting to reach out," she continued, her voice breaking. "But I didn't know if I had the right. I didn't know if you would even speak to me."I closed my eyes, steadying myself. "You can talk," I said.She cried for a moment longer, then took a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. I was wrong, Teresa. I was blind, and I was wrong, and I have been living with that guilt every single day.""You didn't believe me," I said quietly."I know." Her voice cracked. "I thought I was protecting you. I thought if I kept you away from everything, if I made you focus on prayer and discipline, you would be safe. But I see now that I hurt you instead. I made you feel like you were the problem.
Teresa's POV I started therapy two weeks after the trial. Even though I told myself I was ready, the first session proved that I was not as prepared as I thought. The office was quiet and warm, decorated in soft colors with a comfortable couch and a chair where my therapist sat across from me. The room was designed to make people feel safe, but I could not relax. I sat on the edge of the couch with my hands clasped tightly together, my knuckles white, my shoulders tense. My eyes moved around the room instead of settling on my therapist's face. I looked at the bookshelf, at the plants by the window, at the clock on the wall. Anywhere but at her.She introduced herself gently. Her name was Dr. Evelyn, a name that made my chest tighten for a moment before I realized it was just a coincidence. She explained how the sessions would go, how long they would last, and told me that I could take my time. There was no pressure to say anything I was not ready to say. But time felt like pressure i
Teresa POV Mark started to stand. I grabbed his hand."Don't," I whispered.He looked at me, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing."Not yet," I said.He sat down.The prosecutor called the first witness. The secretary.She walked to the stand slowly, her hands shaking slightly. But she spoke. She told them everything. What Nathan did. What he said. How he threatened her. How he used her brother's past to control her.Her voice broke at times. But she didn't stop.When she finished, she looked at me. I nodded at her. She nodded back.Then Melinda was called.She walked in steady. Head high. She didn't look at Nathan. Not once.She spoke clearly. About what she saw. What she found. The patterns. The evidence. The way he treated women. The way he treated her.She talked about the financial records she had uncovered. The shell companies. The hidden accounts. The bribes paid to keep victims silent."He thought he was untouchable," she said. "He thought his money and his name would protect him.
Teresa's POV Mark adjusted the blanket, pulling it up to my shoulders. Careful. Gentle."You should rest," he said."I'm tired.""I know."He stayed close. His hand still holding mine.I looked at him. "You really didn't leave.""No.""Not even once?""No." His voice was soft. "I wasn't going to let you wake up alone."I nodded. Then I shifted slightly, making space on the narrow hospital bed.He looked at me. "Are you sure?""Yes."He moved carefully, climbing onto the bed beside me. Not too close at first, then closer. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me gently against his chest. His warmth seeped into me, chasing away the cold that had settled in my bones.I rested my head against him. My body relaxed slowly, for the first time in what felt like years."I've got you," he said quietly.I closed my eyes.This time, I believed it.---Two weeks passed before the trial.Two weeks of statements and paperwork and waiting. Two weeks of doctors checking me, officers asking questions, la
Teresa POV "You did nothing." My voice was sharp now. "That's the problem. You did nothing while I was being hurt. You did nothing while I was being sent away. You did nothing while I was rebuilding my life alone."Elizabeth let out a short breath. "Exactly."My mother looked between us, her eyes wild. "I was trying to keep the family together—""You let him hurt me," I said. "You let him into our home. You let him into my room. You let him destroy me.""I didn't know—""You knew enough."Silence.Then she dropped the act.Just like that. The tears slowed. Her face hardened slightly. The mask of the remorseful mother slipped away, revealing something colder underneath."What do you want from me?" she asked.There it was. The truth. Not guilt. Not love. Not even regret. Fear. Pure and simple."I want you to leave," I said.She stared at me. "That's it?""Yes.""You're not even going to try to understand?""There's nothing to understand." My voice was flat. "You made your choice years
Teresa's POV.“Oh my God,” I muttered, my fingers flying to the spot. "Mariana come and look at what you have done."“Sorry,” Mariana groaned, rubbing her face with both hands. “I—uh—I think I got… carried away last night?”“Carried away?” I hissed, spinning to face her. “Mariana! I have to go to w
Mark’s POVThe boardroom was silent, except for the soft hum of the projector. Numbers flashed on the screen, clean, sterile and precise—just the way I liked them. My empire was built on efficiency, on control. And yet, I couldn’t focus on anything. Not on the graphs. Not on the investors or the p
Teresa's POV.I woke up to the smell of coffee. It was strong, bitter, dark. It was a scent that had, over the past few weeks, become linked with the morning-after—a brutal reminder that the man who brewed it was as dark and harsh as the brew itself. The sheets were tangled around me, warm against
Teresa's POV.The office should have been my sanctuary. It was the one place where my role was clear, where his commands had context and actually made sense—“Type this memo,” “Schedule this flight,” “Call the Senator.” But today, every corner of the building was dangerous, charged with a dizzying







