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Sheilaâs POVThe door to the operating room swung open with a soft hiss, releasing a waft of sterile air tinged with antiseptic. I stepped out, still clad in green scrubs, my hands trembling faintly from the adrenaline of the past hours. Tugging off the blue net cap, I raked a hand through my sweat-damp hair, my chest tightening as the weight of what just happened began to settle in."Dr. Cortez," a nurse called out as she hurried toward me. "The patient's family is here waiting outside."I froze, my brow furrowing. "Family? Are you sure about that?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, the lingering edge of fear and exhaustion bleeding through.It wasnât uncommon for patients to arrive at the hospital without anyone. But Anastasia... Anastasiaâs world was complicated. Her family was complicated."Yes, Doctor," she replied softly, her eyes glancing briefly at the operating room doors behind me. "They're asking about her condition."My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the gho
Sheila's POVMy chest burned with angerâa fire that had been simmering since the day I discovered that he was cheating with his wifeâwith my best friend. The sight of him now only fanned the flames.âThis is your fault,â I spat, the words slicing through the tense silence like a blade. My voice trembled, heavy with fury and grief. âYou need to leave. Now.âRegan flinched as though Iâd struck him. His face twisted, his stormy eyes filling with guilt and something that might have been pain. But then, he straightened. His shoulders slumped moments ago, squared slightly as he took a deep, steadying breath. The shift in his posture sent a jolt of fury through me.âIâm not going anywhere,â he said, his voice rough but firm. âI need to see Anastasia.âI stared at him, stunned by his audacity. His gaze was firm now, though his face still bore the marks of exhaustion.âAbsolutely not,â I snapped, stepping forward to block his path. âYouâre not going anywhere near her, Regan. She doesnât need y
Sheila's POVA few hours crawled by each tick of the clock an agonizing reminder of the danger Anastasia was in. Finally, word reached me that she'd been moved to a special private room. Soft lighting cast a warm glow on the plush furniture, and a vase filled with fresh flowers sat on a table beside the bed.Pushing open the door, I found a kind-faced nurse monitoring the readings on a nearby machine. "Excuse me," I said softly. "Can you tell me ifâ""Dr. Sheila, I presume?" she interrupted gently, a knowing smile on her lips. "Yes, Miss Anastasia is resting comfortably now."I nodded my thanks. Walking over to the bed, I gazed down at my best friend. Anastasia looked pale and fragile. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Reaching out, I took her hand in mine, its coolness sending a shiver down my spine. "Hey, Tasia," I whispered. Even though I knew she couldn't hear me, the words tumbled out."Please wake up," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "I have something to tell y
Sheila's POVGerard's eyes welled up with tears. "We know we messed up," he choked out, "We were awful to her. But we still love her, and we just want to be here for her now."I scoffed a harsh sound that echoed in the room. "Hypocrites!" I spat, whirling around to leave. I couldn't stand to be around them for another minute.But Christopher lunged forward, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. "You don't get to tell us what to do! You're just her friend. We're her family!"I yanked my arm free, glaring at him with icy fury. Despite his handsome features, his arrogant attitude made him completely unattractive to me at that moment. "Actually," I shot back coldly, "I'm her Health Care proxy. That means I make the decisions about her care. And let's face it, Mr. Christopher Montreal, you've never exactly acted like a brother to her."His face drained of color, a mixture of shock and anger contorting his features. "What did you say?""You heard me loud and clear," I said, my vo
After a restless night, I finally tore myself away from Anastasia's bedside and went home to my condo. Exhaustion gnawed at me, and I knew I needed a change of clothes and a decent cup of coffee to function. Pulling off the scrubs, I traded them for a pair of comfy jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. With a quick caffeine fix in mind, I headed to a nearby 24/7 diner. These late-night havens were a godsend. Sliding into a booth, I nursed a strong cup of coffee, the bitter brew jumpstarting my foggy brain.The first rays of dawn were just peeking over the horizon as I returned to the hospital. Entering Anastasia's room, I froze in surprise. There, perched on a chair beside the bed, sat a woman I recognized all too well â Anastasia's stepmother, Marianne. She was a woman of striking beauty. But something in her makes me feel intimidated and that was new to my vocabulary. I seldom got intimidated. Anastasia was the one person who could truly get under this womanâs skin."She does n
Reganâs POVThe exhaustion clawed at me that mirrored the worry twisting in my gut. Anastasia's face, pale and unconscious, kept flashing behind my eyelids. Every sip of the amber liquid at the bar did little to drown the guilt that choked me."If only I'd choose her," I muttered to myself, swirling the ice in my glass with a trembling hand.The past few hours replayed in my mind, a relentless loop of self-blame. If I'd chosen to spend the evening with Anastasia, maybe, just maybe, things would have been different. She wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines.Just as despair threatened to consume me, a hand landed on my shoulder. I flinched, startled, and turned to see Alan's familiar face etched with concern."Regan, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice low but laced with worry. "You look like you've been dragged through the wringer."I shrugged him off n
Regan's POVAlan finally managed to wrestle me out of the bar, the bouncer barking threats behind us. My face throbbed with a dull ache; my knuckles were scraped raw. Fishing a crumpled pack of cigarettes from my pocket, I fumbled for a lighter. The flame sparked to life, casting a glow on my bloodied hand."Here," Alan muttered, shoving a napkin at me. "Clean yourself up, you maniac."I ignored him, taking a long drag on the cigarette, the harsh smoke doing little to soothe the ache in my chest. "Damn it," I rasped, the words laced with frustration. "I wanted to turn those creeps into mush."The bouncer, a burly man with a shaved head, reached the doorway and threw his arms out, effectively blocking our re-entry. "You're done here, buddy! Find another bar to wreck!" He puffed out his chest, trying to appear intimidating, but to me, he looked like a puffed-up pigeon."Relax, tou
When I woke up, the room was bathed in the glow of fluorescent lights, casting an unnatural sheen over the sterile white walls. Everything felt heavyâmy limbs like lead, my chest as if a boulder rested on it, and even my eyelids, which fought against the simple act of opening. The steady, rhythmic beeping of the monitor beside me was oddly soothing, grounding me in a place I wasnât yet ready to fully acknowledge. I blinked, the harsh light stinging my eyes as I tried to adjust. My surroundings were unfamiliar, cold, and impersonal, with the faint smell of antiseptic lingering in the air. The scratchy blanket draped over me was barely warm, and a dull ache coursed through my body. Slowly, the realization began to settle. I was in a hospital. The sterile room and its cold silence felt suffocating. Alone. No father. No brothers. No Regan. Just me and the persistent hum of machines monitoring my fragile state. A pang of loneliness shot through me as I tried to piece together how Iâd en
Sheila laughed and shoved her playfully. "Please, I’m the life of this party. You’re the sidekick, four-eyes.""Four-eyes? Bold words coming from someone who tripped over a flat sidewalk last week!"Sheila scowled. "Did Tasia tell you that? It was uneven!""It was flat," Ava shot back without missing a beat. "Gravity personally requested you fall over to entertain the public."I couldn't stop laughing, hiding my face behind my hand as the two of them bickered like no time had passed at all. It was chaotic, it was loud, it was messy—And it was home.Sheila turned to me with an exaggerated sigh. "You see what I put up with? You should pay me hazard fees just for being friends with her."Ava rolled her eyes and leaned casually against the table. "Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome for making your life interesting."Susan and Elise were trying—and failing—to hide their giggles as they discreetly stepped
The morning light streamed through the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room, filling the space. The wide, sunlit room looked like something from a magazine spreadâpolished marble floors, pale cream walls lined with intricate crown moldings, and plush, oversized couches in soft champagne hues. The chandelier above sparkled subtly, catching the light.In the center of it all, a long rectangular table had been set upâdraped in white linen and neatly arranged with tasting plates, tiny glasses, and silver utensils.Susan and a few of the maids bustled quietly nearby, arranging fresh pitchers of water and clearing empty plates.And at the far end of the room stood a cluster of smartly dressed individuals from Champagne and Roses Events Company, all smiling with their clipboards in hand and their nerves barely hidden beneath their professional exteriors.In the midst of it allâI sat poised at the head of the table, wearing a simple but el
I stared at the phone. The call replayed in my mind. His offer, unexpected and overwhelming. Something I hadnât seen coming.Thenâmy phone buzzed again.The sound made me flinch, jarring me out of my daze. But when I glanced at the screen, my heart stuttered.Miguel Sanchez. Champagne and Roses Events Company.The one I had hired months ago for Reganâs birthdayâbefore everything fell apart. Before Zarina. Before the accident. Before the child growing silently inside me.My fingers hesitated for just a moment before I swiped to answer."Hello?""Good afternoon, Ms. Anastasia!" the man chirped, his voice full of an excitement I couldnât even begin to mirror. "Iâm just calling to confirm that everything is set for your husbandâs birthday! Weâre almost ready with the setupâjust wanted to ask if youâd like us to drop by your home and discuss final details like food options and guests lists!"My breath hitched painfully.
Another short silence stretched between us, and I could almost picture him standing somewhere across the world, arms crossed, watching over me the way he always used to."Why did you call, Uncle? Is there a problem?"âNo, no, dear," he said quickly, reassuringly. "There is no problem.âI slumped back slightly into the chair."Oh," I exhaled, allowing the smallest smile to pull at the corner of my mouth, "thatâs good to hear."But there was a pause on his endâa pause that said there was more. Much more.âI know you heard from Don Alonso,â he said finally.I stiffened, heart picking up again. Moment of truth.I swallowed. "Um, yeah⌠is it about the promise? Is that why you called?"There was no hesitation in his answer."Yes, it is," he said simply. "I know it must be hard to believe something like that even existed. I understand it must be shocking."I laughed softly under my breath, a dry, breathless sound.
The red velvet was rich beneath my fingertips, almost too luxurious for something that made my heart hammer with dread. The gold ribbon gleamed under the sunlight, tied so precisely it made my chest tighten.I stared at it for a moment—Just stared.As if the box itself was waiting, breathing, daring me to open it. Then, with a trembling breath, I pulled the ribbon loose and lifted the lid.Inside—Photographs. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe.My heart slammed into my ribs so hard it hurt. Picture after picture spilled before me, sharp and glossy and mercilessly real.Regan. Zarina.Laughing together. Hands brushing. Leaning into each other like lovers in secret. Whispering in corners. Clinging to each other in dark rooms. Moments I was never meant to see.Moments hidden from me while I played the fool. Dates were marked neatly in red ink in the corners of each photo.Some of them were recent.But
A flood of emails greeted me firstâformal messages from the foundation, updates on business reports I hadn't had the energy to care about. Then, a few news articlesâheadlines about society events, political scandalsânone of them touching my world anymore.I swiped idly through them, my mind elsewhere, my body still fighting the lingering nausea.Then I saw it.One message stood out among the floods.A simple text, from a name I hadnât seen in months but had been waiting for without even realizing it.Ava Ramos.My assistant. My friend.She had taken a six-month leave to care for her mother abroad, but even from halfway across the world, Ava had still managed to handle the details of my business life better than anyone else could. She didnât just work for meâshe stood by me. Without judgment. Without condition.I opened the message with trembling fingers.Ava:Miss A, Just wanted to let you know my l
The morning light spilled into the room in soft, golden streaks, coaxing me awake. I stirred beneath the light linen sheets; my body slow to move. The nausea hit me almost immediately. A wave of dizziness and discomfort churned in my stomach, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before carefully sitting up.The clock on the nightstand blinked back at meâ7:08 AM.âUghâ I groaned, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool marble floor. I sat there for a moment, breathing through the nausea, pressing a hand gently against my still-flat stomach.Almost six weeks of being two people instead of one.And somehow, it already felt like my entire body had shifted. My chest tightened at the thought, and I forced myself to sit up straighter, blinking against the dizzying morning light streaming through the tall windows. I reached for the robe hanging loosely over the nearby armchairâa light ivory silk robe with delicate lace
âAfter Alisha died, the bond between our families⌠frayed. Your unclesâespecially Alvaroâblamed Gregory. Maybe not for her death directly, but for the way she lived before it. For the silence. For the sadness that started showing behind her eyes.âI drew a sharp breath. Iâd always known something was⌠strained between the Montreals and the Saavedras. Even as a child, I could feel the tension, though no one ever spoke of it.Don Alonsoâs voice dropped lower, his tone thickening with something heavy. Not just memoryâguilt.âAfter Alisha died, the bond between our families⌠frayed. Your unclesâespecially Alvaroâblamed your fatherâGregory. For her death directly, for the way she lived before it. For the silence. For the sadness that started showing behind her eyes.âHis words struck something sharp and cold inside me. My hands freezing in place on my lap. I had always known, deep down, that there was a quiet rift between the Montreals and the Saavedras. It wa
There was a long pause between us.The kind that didnât feel uncomfortableâjust⌠heavy with things unsaid.We sat quietly, staring out at the garden bathed in the warm light of late afternoon. The hedges rustled softly as the breeze moved through them, carrying the scent of blooming roses and sun-warmed grass. A few loose petals floated gently across the stones. Birds chirped high in the trees.I reached for my teacup, the porcelain smooth and cool against my fingertips. I brought it to my lips and took a slow sip. The taste was softâchamomile and lemonâmeant to be calming. But instead of comfort, all I felt was the bitter knot in my chest, untouched by warmth.I set the cup down carefully, the clink of porcelain against porcelain sounding too loud in the stillness.Then, finally, Don Alonso spoke.âHave any of the Saavedras contacted you?âI blinked, confused.The Saavedras. My motherâs family.I frowned, turning toward