All Chapters of His Terms, My Surrender: Unfinished Surrender: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

pulled into the familiar lot of Del Sorella, a soft-lit Italian bistro tucked between two rows of galleries in the quieter part of the city. It wasn’t just any restaurant—it was our place. Mine and Arzhel’s. Where we’d come when I landed my first big art exhibit, where we celebrated the day I opened my studio, and the first time Martha said “thank you” without prompting.Every milestone, big or small, had somehow ended here. Over candlelight, warm wine, and the scent of rosemary and roasted garlic in the air.I stepped out of the car and straightened my dress, smoothing the wrinkles with trembling fingers. The nerves hadn’t left me yet, but the moment I saw the golden glow pouring out through the restaurant’s windows, something in my chest settled. Anchored.Inside, it was just as I remembered: elegant but intimate. The floor was dark oak, the tables were draped in crisp white linen, and low music floated from an old record player in the corner—Italian jazz, always.I spotted Arzhel i

I stood there for a moment, just breathing.What a day.First Theo showed up out of nowhere and gave me a full-blown panic attack by picking Martha up from school without telling me. Then Arzhel—steady, gentle Arzhel—asked me to marry him… and left the restaurant looking like I’d broken him.I felt like I was spinning, like I couldn’t get my feet on the ground.I finally stepped outside, the warm air of the evening hitting me like a wave. The city buzzed quietly around me, but it all felt distant—muted.I slid into the driver’s seat of my car and shut the door. For a long time, I didn’t move. Just sat there, gripping the steering wheel like it could hold me together.My thoughts were everywhere.Arzhel’s voice. Theo’s face. Martha’s smile.Guilt. Anger. Regret. Confusion.It all tangled inside me like a storm I didn’t know how to get out of.Thirty minutes passed before I even noticed. The clock on the dashboard blinked quietly, reminding me how long I’d been frozen.Finally, I took a

I stayed home that day.After everything—the confrontation, the proposal, the memory of Theo’s grip still bruising my wrist in places only I could feel—it was best I didn’t go to work. My head wasn’t clear, my heart even less so. I texted Lily to let her know I wouldn’t be coming in. No excuses, no explanation. She replied within minutes: “Take the day. I’ve got it covered. Breathe.”I was about to put my phone down when another message came through.Camilla.My face lit up without thinking. Just the sight of her name brought a warmth I didn’t know I’d been missing.“You home?” the message read. “I’m bringing coffee. And gossip. No arguments.”I let out a breath that almost became a laugh.Six years ago, I met Camilla in La Sereta Nera—a world wrapped in silk and shadows, in rules written in blood and secrets. A dangerous world neither of us chose, but both of us were forced to survive.I had Martha in my belly then. Camilla had nothing but loss—her past, her family, her entire sense

Theo kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot, the final thud echoing too loudly in the space Camilla had just vacated.“She doesn’t like me,” he said casually, like we were talking about a barista who got his name wrong.I didn’t answer. Just took a long drink from the latte that had gone lukewarm in my hands.Theo turned toward me, his jacket hanging open, that cocky tilt to his mouth still lingering. “Old friend of yours?”“Don’t,” I said quietly.He raised a brow. “Don’t what?”“Don’t act like this is normal. Like you walking in here after five years and dropping Martha off at school like it’s some kind of Tuesday errand is… fine.”Theo’s smirk dimmed, the edges softening, but not quite falling away.“I never said it was fine,” he said. “I said it was happening.”I stood. “That’s not the same thing.”He didn’t flinch. “You let me take her.”“I didn’t let you,” I snapped, voice sharp. “She asked. You knew exactly what you were doing when you offered.”Theo shrugged

By Friday evening, the house was quiet again. The kind of quiet that pressed against your skin, heavy and restless.Martha had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. I stood beside her bed, brushing a few stray curls from her forehead. Her breathing was soft and even, the rise and fall of her chest calm—untouched by the tension that had lived in the house all week.I lingered there longer than I needed to, just watching her. She was the only piece of peace I had left.When I finally turned off the light and closed her door halfway, the rest of the house felt colder. I found Theo in the living room, sitting on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, phone in hand. The TV was on but muted, the flicker of light painting his face in soft gold.I crossed my arms. “Any update?”He looked up, tired eyes meeting mine. “No. My men couldn’t find anything. No trace, no signal, nothing.”I frowned. “Nothing at all?”He shook his head. “It’s like the message came from now