“WHAT on earth does that Sophia girl have that no other woman on this planet could possibly have, Oswald? What?” Lady Frances Escobar’s voice rose across the dining table, sharp and relentless.
Oswald’s jaw tightened. He set his fork down and pushed his chair back, his half-eaten meal forgotten. Without a word, he stood and walked away.
“Don’t you dare walk out on us!” Frances’s voice followed him, but he kept moving, his footsteps echoing toward the living room.
Lord Dino Escobar was already up, abandoning his own plate. Together, husband and wife trailed their son, both voices raised now, their disapproval filling the house.
It was evening, and Oswald had finally agreed to join them for dinner, finally agreed to honour their invitation after two full weeks of dodging it. He had known deep down that this would happen. The food had been nothing more than a lure; the real menu was the same as always: criticism of the woman he loved.
Sophia. Sophia Lawn.
Sophia had been the best thing to happen to him in months. She was his world, his peace, his heartbeat. For a while, they had kept their relationship quiet, it was her wish to, but weeks ago, he had decided to make it public.
His parents had not taken it well.
They called her cursed. Said her family’s name carried bad luck. That she wasn’t “classy” or “worthy” of being an Escobar wife. He could live with society’s whispers, but his parents’ rejection cut deeper than he had expected.
He stopped short when his father’s voice sliced through the air.
“Can’t you just leave that woman? What love potion has she given you?” Lord Dino’s tone dripped with disbelief.
Oswald halted in the middle of the living room and turned.
“Mum. Dad.” His voice was measured but cold. “I’m tired, tired of repeating myself on this one issue.”
Lady Frances stood with her hands on her hips, chin raised.
“It is either Sophia,” Oswald continued, “or no one. I have made my choice.”
“You will marry her over my dead body,” Frances shot back without hesitation. “And when you do, you can pack my corpse to the morgue yourself. Because that cursed woman will never be part of this family.”
The words hung in the air. Oswald stared at her, stunned at the venom.
“What exactly do you hate about her? Why this much bitterness?” His voice was low, almost dangerous.
Frances stepped closer, taking his hand as if trying to soften her stance.
“Son,” she said, her tone dipping into false gentleness, “that girl is cursed. Her family is cursed. Bad luck follows her like a shadow. If you stay with her, it will cling to you too, and also, it will extend to us.”
Oswald carefully withdrew his hand.
“And how exactly is she cursed, Mother? Explain it.”
His father moved in, his patience clearly gone.
“Do you have to know how before you listen to us? She is an orphan, Oswald, an only child. Everyone knows she killed her parents.”
Oswald’s head snapped toward him.
“That is a lie.”
“It is what people say,” Dino pressed on. “They died in that plane crash during summer vacation, the one she ‘happened’ to miss. You think that is coincidence?”
Oswald exhaled slowly. Yes, he had heard the rumors. Yes, people twisted her history, the tragic crash that took both her parents while she stayed behind with her aunt. And yes, he knew she had been a sickly child until her twenties. But accidents happen, illnesses pass, and none of it defined her.
“She is good, Dad,” Oswald said firmly. “Economical. Decent. Sweet. Intelligent. She builds a home, not breaks it. She has every quality I want in a wife.” His eyes swept over them both. “I’m done explaining myself.”
He turned toward the door.
“You are lying to yourself, Oswald!” Frances called, hurrying after him. “As long as I’m alive, you will never marry her!”
Her voice trailed him out into the night. He reached the main door, where his guard instantly straightened and fell into step.
Oswald strode toward the black Toyota RAV4 parked in the drive, his mother’s words echoing in his ears. The guard opened the rear door, and Oswald slid inside without looking back.
The guard climbed into the front passenger seat, the driver started the engine, and without another word, the car pulled away from the Escobar mansion.
Oswald stared out the window, his jaw tight. He had made his choice. And no amount of curses or gossip would change it.
THANK YOU, DEAR READER!Wow! You made it to the end of this journey with me, and I can't thank you enough. Your time, emotions, and support mean the world to me. Every read, every comment, every like, it all keeps me going.If this story touched you, made you laugh, cry, or feel something deep, please consider supporting me with gems, reviews and or sharing the book with others. It helps me grow and motivates me to keep creating more stories you'll love.Your support isn't just appreciated, it's everything.With love, Baby Nûella
……SEVEN YEARS LATER……THE sky was a sweet blue, scattered with wisps of cotton clouds, the sun not too harsh, just the perfect weather for a baby shower. The Escobar mansion had been transformed into a wonderland of white and gold décor. Soft jazz music floated in the air, the sound of laughter mingling with the gentle clinking of glasses. Round tables adorned with floral centerpieces dotted the manicured lawn, and shimmering white drapes flowed like silk in the soft wind. Every guest looked like they had stepped out of a designer magazine.At the center of it all stood the radiant couple— Oswald and Orlanda Escobar.Orlanda wore a long blush-pink off-shoulder gown, her hair flowing in soft curls around her glowing face. A delicate tiara sat on her head, her baby bump adding an extra charm to her silhouette. She laughed freely, resting one hand on her belly and the other entwined with Oswald's.Oswald, ever the striking figure, wore a custom-tailored white suit with a silk black shirt
THE Escobar mansion shimmered in gold and ivory hues, the grand chandelier raining elegance over the long dining table being set with the finest cutlery and crystal glassware. Fresh flowers lined the center, and the mouthwatering aroma of roasted lamb, buttered vegetables, and delicate pastries floated through the air as uniformed chefs and servers made final adjustments.It was a rare and cherished evening, one the Escobar family hadn’t experienced in years. Not since the days when laughter once danced through these same halls.Lady Frances stood by the grand hallway, clasping her fingers in an unusual flurry of excitement. Her heart was fluttering, not because her beloved son was coming home for dinner, but because she was coming. The girl who had done what no therapy, no medicine, no luxury had ever been able to do— heal her son.“Everything looks perfect,” Frances murmured, adjusting a gold goblet slightly out of place. Then the front doors creaked open and her husband, Lord Dino
THE office floor was alive with chatter that morning, but it wasn’t the usual talk about deadlines or client meetings. It was about Orlanda.She was everywhere, or rather, her story was. The photos from the villa unveiling had already made the rounds online, and the headlines were impossible to miss. Her name was on everyone’s lips.The women gathered in little clusters, their conversations laced with mixed emotions.“Honestly, I’m happy for her,” one young woman said, her voice sincere. “She has been through a lot. She deserves this happiness.”Another scoffed, crossing her arms. “Happy? Please. Some people just have all the luck. I have been here five years and—” she stopped herself but the bitterness in her tone lingered.Near the coffee station, an elderly woman spoke up, her voice firm but tinged with nostalgia. “She deserves all she gets now,” she said. “I knew her mother — Helena Lawn. Not too close, but close enough to know she was a good woman. What happened to her was trag
OSWALD sat at the long mahogany dining table in his parents’ grand home, the warm glow from the chandelier casting golden highlights over polished silverware. Lady Frances was at the head of the table, her eyes sparkling with a rare kind of joy as she poured tea into his cup.“It has been too long since you visited like this,” she said, almost chiding, but her voice was soft with affection. She reached across to pat his hand. “I missed you, my son.”“I have been… busy,” Oswald replied with a small smile, his deep voice calm and measured, but the warmth in his eyes gave him away.Lord Dino, sitting opposite, leaned back in his chair and studied his son. “I see, busy with Orlanda.” His wife chuckled and Oswald scoffed.“Well you and Orlanda now, son. Is that your choice?”Oswald’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yes, Father. She is my choice. My only choice.”Lord Dino gave a slow nod, his stern features relaxing into approval. “So, no longer Queen?”Oswald’s jaw tightened slightly at the name,
THE car rolled smoothly along winding country roads, trees arching overhead like a green cathedral. They had been driving for quite a while now, and Orlanda’s curiosity was nearly eating her alive. Every so often she would glance at Oswald, trying to read his expression, but he only offered that maddening half-smile that said he was enjoying keeping her in suspense.Finally, the road curved into a quiet bend, revealing a set of ornate wrought-iron gates. They were flanked by towering stone pillars, each crowned with lanterns that gleamed in the morning light. As the gates swung open, the car glided forward onto a cobblestone driveway that seemed to stretch forever.And then she saw it.A grand villa stood proudly at the end of the drive, all cream stone and sweeping terraces, its massive windows reflecting the sunlight like liquid gold. Beautiful gardens bloomed on either side, a fountain dancing in the center of a circular courtyard. It wasn’t just a house. It was a palace.Orlanda’s