LOGIN~FIORELLA~I know I’m speaking.I can hear my own voice…..steady, controlled, precise as always, but something is off.It’s subtle at first….a shift in the air, then a disruption in rhythm.And I don't like it all.I don't tolerate disruption like this.My fingers rest lightly on the document in front of me as I continue explaining clause 4B, my tone even, confident, leaving no room for doubt or interruption. The room is now exactly how I like it…..quiet, attentive, obedient, and controlled.Until I feel a gaze heavy and unrelenting.I don’t look up immediately. I never do. I finish my sentence first, because I don’t break structure for anyone.But when I finally lift my eyes, my chest tightens just slightly, so slightly no one would ever notice.My expression doesn’t change. It never does. I hold his gaze just long enough to acknowledge his existence… and dismiss it.He’s nothing, just another distraction, so I continue speaking.But something inside me i
~LUCAS~She's speaking now, but I don’t hear half of what she’s saying.The meeting continues….voices speaking, papers shifting, someone presenting numbers, but all of it fades into a distant blur because my eyes are locked on her.Or… the person who looks exactly like her.My chest tightens slowly, painfully, like something is pressing inward.Marcella.The name echoes in my head like a ghost I can’t bury.But the longer I sit here… the longer I watch her, the more something feels wrong.Terribly wrong.My jaw tightens as I lean back slightly in my chair, forcing myself to breathe, to think, to see.Because this?This woman in front of me?She is not the girl I knew.The Marcella I remember wasn't like this.She wasn’t cold, she wasn't sharp.She didn’t sit in rooms like this, commanding silence with just a look.And Marcella…..my Marcella…..would have reacted. Even if it was anger. Even if it was denial. She would have felt something.My Marcella laughed to
~LUCAS~The moment I step into the room, everything in me stops.My hand is still on the door, and my breath catches halfway in my chest.Because sitting at the head of the table is her…Marcella.She's sitting there…back straight, chin slightly lifted, eyes sharp and unreadable.What is Marcella doing sitting here with lawyers when she isn't a law student??It doesn’t fit her.My grip on the door tightens unconsciously, the metal cold against my palm, grounding me because suddenly the room feels like it’s tilting. This isn’t right. None of this is right.My heart starts pounding harder, and before I can even process it….“Oh, here he is.”The voice pulls everyone’s attention to me, but I barely hear it, because I'm still staring at her.Still trying to understand what I’m looking at.“Our new intern. Mr. Lucas Santis.”The introduction barely registers, because her eyes are on me now.And just like earlier, there’s nothing in them….no recognition, no reaction,
~FIORELLA~“Mr. Santis,” I repeat, my voice dropping dangerously, “I do not repeat myself often. You are already on unstable ground. I suggest you start explaining yourself.”He finally speaks again.“I’m sorry, once again.” His words are quiet, and measured. “I apologize for coming in late.”My eyes narrow slightly because he's too calm, too controlled.“I was early,” he continues. “I got to the company before time.”A faint shift moves through the room ... .they are interested again, and hope that he might salvage this.I remain unmoved.“And yet,” I say, “you are standing here late.”“Yes,” he admits with no excuses…. just that single word.“There was… a situation,” he adds.Something in his tone shifts. It's subtle, but I catch it.A situation.My mind flashes instantly…. the chaos, the moment he mistook me for my sister.My jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.Of course it was that.Of course he was that problem.A quiet, humorless scoff slips past my lips.“
~FIORELLA~No, this is not happening.I don’t react because I never show my reaction in public, and yet, for the briefest, most treacherous second… something inside me stills when my eyes land on him.The stranger from earlier, the one who touched me without permission.My expression does not change….it never does.But beneath the stillness… beneath the perfect composure I wear like skin, something sharp and unwelcome coils in my chest.Please..…let it not be him.My gaze flicks, just once, to the empty chair, and then back to him….still standing at the door, still breathing slightly harder than he should, still looking at me like….No.I cut the thought off instantly.He means nothing.He is nothing….. just a stranger, just an inconvenience, just….“Oh, here he is.”The senior partner’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade.And just like that, everything inside me drops slow, heavy, and final.No!!“…our new intern,” he continues, relief evident in his t
~FIORELLA~I'll never have to see him again…. right??The thought lingers for half a second too long, and I hate that.I stop walking….not abruptly, not in a way anyone else would notice.Just a slight pause… a near-invisible hesitation.But I feel it….that tiny crack in my control.My fingers curl slowly at my side, nails pressing lightly into my palm.This is unacceptable, because I don't hesitate, I don't question, and I definitely do not let strangers crawl into my thoughts and stay there.I inhale, slowly, controlled, and measured, then exhale just as steadily.And just like that…it's gone.Everything soft, everything uncertain, everything unnecessary….gone.My spine straightens slightly, my shoulders settling back into perfect alignment.My expression smooths out, every trace of irritation, curiosity, and distraction erased like it was never there.Everything is back to being cold, composed and untouchable.That’s who I am, and that's who I remain.The so
~MARCELLA~I take one slow step closer to him, letting the bass roll through my body.I stop just close enough for him to smell my perfume—warm, sweet, dangerous.Up close, he’s even better. Sharp jaw. Long lashes. Lips that look like they’ve never learned how to beg. Calm eyes that don’t rush me, d
~ELENA~“My daughter belongs to all of them,” I announce.Laughter breaks out—low, cruel, disbelieving.“Daughters?” one of them repeats. “You expect us to believe three men fathered three identical children?”“Yes,” I reply boldly.Outrage erupts.“That’s perversion!”“Th
~ELENA~“Help!” I cry out in tears. “Somebody please help!”The sound of my own voice echoes back to me, useless.A man slams the door shut. The engine roars.And just like that, they’re gone.Two of my daughters.Gone.I crawl after them, knees scraping against metal and s
~ELENA~The gun is still pressed to Lorenzo’s chest.Vincenzo’s arm is locked, solid, unyielding….pure control wrapped around fury so cold it terrifies me more than rage ever could.Lorenzo’s fingers loosen around my throat when Vincenzo slams him to the wall. Air rushes back i







