FOR a split second, Sophia wished the ground would just open up and swallow her whole. She had only come to the mart that evening to pick up a few groceries and leave quietly. But one careless, deliberately loud remark, one mocking and derogatory remark a lady had made about her now, making heads to snap at her and faces to disgustingly stare at her, shattered that peace and made her to say such prayer, that the ground she was standing on, should open and swallow her whole.
“How can a low-life, low-class girl turn a man like Oswald Escobar on? Eww. It is disgusting.”
The voice carried through the aisle, it was sharp and mocking. Heads turned. Faces twisted into sneers.
“She isn’t even pretty enough, to be honest,” the woman added, her tone dripping with disdain.
Sophia’s grip on the shopping basket tightened. Inside, her blood boiled. On the outside, she forced herself to keep moving, to ignore it.
She was used to this, used to being the girl society rejected for daring to love a man far beyond her “place.”
Oswald Dino Escobar.
His name alone commanded attention. CEO of Escobar Investments— the leading investment empire in Philadelphia, along with several billion-dollar ventures across the country. The only son of His Lordship Dino Escobar and Lady Frances Escobar, one of the most respected couples in the nation.
He was nothing but powerful. Wealthy. Imposing.
And somehow, he had chosen her, a mere college graduate with no family to stand behind her, no inheritance, no prestigious titles. At first, she hadn’t cared what people said. Their gossip seemed petty compared to the warmth of his love. But months later, the whispers hadn’t faded. If anything, they had grown louder.
Even his parents refused to accept her.
And yet, for over half a year, Oswald had been the best thing in her life, adoring her without apology, proving their bond stronger than class or status.
Wisdom said she should ignore the woman’s jealousy, and so she did. Keeping her head high, she made her way to the counter.
“How much?” she asked the man behind the till.
He quickly scanned her items.
“One hundred and fifty dollars.”
She slid her credit card across the counter. The man bagged her groceries neatly in a branded paper bag. Just as she reached for it, he spoke, his voice was quick, almost conspiratorial.
“Sweetie, take my advice, leave Oswald. Let him find a better life.”
The words landed like a slap. For a moment, she just looked at him, saying nothing. Then she shook her head slowly, took the bag, and walked out.
Outside, the cool air hit her. She strode briskly to her car, opened the door, and dropped the bag on the passenger seat. Sitting back against the headrest, she let the tears come, hot, unrelenting, burning away the composure she had clung to inside the mart.
After several minutes, she wiped her eyes and steadied her breathing.
She was supposed to be at Oswald’s mansion tonight for an intimate dinner. Now? After this? She couldn’t face him, not with the weight of those words still pressing on her chest. She turned the key in the ignition, deciding to go straight home instead.
The engine roared to life. Then, from the pigeonhole, her phone lit up. It was a text message.
She reached for it, her heart still heavy.
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