Todos los capítulos de Surrendered Desires: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Ariana’s POV“Stay down,” Luca whispered, his body already shielding mine. His hand gripped my arm tight enough to feel bruise, not really though, but he pulled me beneath the edge of the couch.“What was that?” I gasped.He didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the broken window across the room, glass glittering like stars on the hardwood floor. A cold breeze sliced through the space, then silence followed, but not the safe kind. It was the charged, listening kind. I held my breath. Then Luca moved fast to check the window. His muscles tensed. “Nothing,” he muttered. “No one out there. But that wasn’t just a random thing.”I sat up slowly. “You think they found us?”He met my eyes. “They didn’t need to. This was a warning.”A warning. I pulled the blanket tighter around myself. My skin was still warm from his touch minutes ago, and slowly it burned with cold dread. “Then they know I’m not dead.”“Vanessa doesn’t bluff,” he said, pacing toward the fireplace. “If she sends someone to rattle

Ariana’s POVThree days after I walked away from Daniel, the papers arrived.There was no tricks, no hidden clauses, just a clean line of release with his signature at the bottom. A neat, quiet ending to a marriage that was never loud but always aching. I stared at the envelope for a long time before opening it.Luca sat across the motel table, sipping lukewarm coffee, watching me but not pushing. He’d been giving me space—more space than anyone ever had. And maybe that was why it felt safe now. To finally end it. To sign.I picked up the pen, and without tears, without shaking, I wrote my name. Ariana Cole.One last time. Then I slid the envelope shut and breathed like I hadn’t in years. That night, I dreamed of water. I was not drowning, I was just floating. There was no noise, no weight. It was just silence and sky above me. When I woke, it was still dark outside. The motel window was fogged up, the air heavy. I sat up slowly, the sheets tangled around my waist, Luca’s arm draped o

Ariana’s POVThe morning after the talk, I woke up with the strangest stillness in my body. It wasn’t peace. It was… a pause.A moment suspended between endings and something I couldn’t quite name. Luca was still asleep beside me, sheets tangled at his waist, one hand reaching toward where I used to be. I watched the way his fingers curled slightly, even in sleep, like his body didn’t trust that I was real. I slipped out of bed quietly and padded into the bathroom. My stomach flipped. Not from nerves and definitely not from emotion, but something… deeper. Physical and my instincts was very much alive. I sat on the edge of the tub and tried to shake it off. Probably it was exhaustion. I hadn’t eaten properly in days. Or maybe the stress was finally sinking into my bones.But something about the nausea, soft and subtle—felt familiar. Too familiar. A slow chill moved up my spine. No. I told myself I was imagining it.I always had a wild imagination, didn’t I?Still, I counted the days i

Ariana’s POVIt started rather with an email, than a headline, a call, or another anonymous message. Just a quiet, clean subject line in my inbox:“Your contract is under review.”I sat up straighter in the cafe chair, heart still in my throat from the espresso I hadn’t finished. The scent of baked croissants blurred in the background as I clicked it open.//Ariana,Due to recent events involving your public image, the board has voted to temporarily suspend your licensing agreement with the Maison Luxe brand until further notice. This is not a termination, but a compliance pause while the matter is reviewed.We appreciate your past contributions and hope to resolve this discreetly.— Legal & Brand Affairs, Luxe Group. //I have been working as the Brand strategy director at a Luxe fashion label. Now the screen blurred for a second, not from tears or from fury. And so this was how it started, not with violence, not even with slander, but with silence. The kind that undoes your name one

Ariana’s POVGrief doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it just sits quietly on your chest, like something too heavy to move, but too familiar to remove. The morning after Nathan’s letter, I woke with my hand over my stomach. No tears. No rage. Just breath. Steady, slow, determined—this baby was mine, not a symbol and absolutely not a scandal. Mine. And no one would take it from me again.*******I called Evelyn at 9 a.m. sharp. Her voice was sharp as ever. “Tell me.”“I want to file for full financial separation. And I want a record of Nathan’s confession—certified.”She paused. “Is it official?”“He admitted to acting on someone’s order. He didn’t name Daniel, but we both know who had motive, access, and power.”Evelyn didn’t argue. “We’ll build it.”I breathed in. “No press. No statement. I’m not here to perform pain for the public. This time… I want my justice quiet.”“You’ll have it,” she said.And I believed her.Back at the loft, Luca stood at the window, arms crossed, bare chest r