Semua Bab A Taste Of Teresa Cortez: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Teresa’s Pov Mothers are supposed to love you unconditionally, right? Protect you. Sacrifice for you.Mine watches me get fucked by strangers and then locks herself in her room to get off to the memory. Sometimes she watches.Yeah. That kind of mother.Hi. I’m Teresa. I'm twenty-one years old. My real mom died when I was twelve, she died of cancer. Dad remarried less than two years later. He married Caroline. Dr. Caroline goddamn Cortez, a respected psychologist, savior of addicts, one-on-one therapist to the broken and the rich. She smiled at me when she got newly wedded to my dad, held my hand like she gave a shit, and six years later my dad dropped dead of a heart attack in the driveway. Left me everything. And nothing. Because everything now belongs to her.The house. The money. Me.I’m sitting at the dining-room table pretending to scroll on my phone while Caroline laughs too loud at something the guy next to her says. He’s new. They’re always new. Slick hair, cheap cologne, we

Teresa’s Pov If boredom could kill, I would’ve flatlined three hours ago.Another office. Another white room. Another pointless check-up I didn’t ask for. I swear the doctors in this building must think I’m made of glass with how they keep prodding and poking. Meanwhile, Caroline walked beside me like she owned the entire damn hospital, heels clicking, perfume loud enough to choke someone.I hated being here.But I hated the consequences of refusing her even more.Lunch break finally came, and Caroline abandoned me in her office like she always did. I didn’t complain. Silence was better than her voice anyway. I curled into the chair and scrolled through social media, pretending that the entire day didn’t feel like a punishment someone forgot to name.And then, stupidly, my mind drifted back to him.The man from the morning.Dark hair. Grey eyes. Built like sin and carved like he was daring someone to touch him. I’d barely looked at him for five seconds, yet somehow he burned into my

Nolan’s PovMason hasn’t shut up about this job for six straight hours.We’re down in the bunker, concrete walls, no windows, racks of rifles gleaming under LED strips, servers humming like angry bees. Mason hunched over his laptop, fingers flying, mouth running twice as fast.“This is suicide, Nolan. Straight-up insane. Vice president’s son? Secret Service crawling up his ass twenty-four seven? For what…some shadow donor’s election hard-on?”I don’t look up from cleaning the suppressor in my hands. “Six hundred grand, Mason. That’s what.”He snorts. “Yeah, and a closed-casket funeral with the flag folded real pretty. I haven’t even fucked a Vietnamese girl yet. Or an Italian guy. I have plans, man. Plans that don’t include a sniper round to the skull.”Asher kicks his boots up on a crate. “Stop whining. We scope, we hack, we ghost. Same dance, bigger stage.”Mason flips him off without looking. “Easy for you to say. Your brain isn’t ninety percent dick.”“Jealousy is ugly, brother.”

Teresa’s Pov The whole day felt like a blur.I cleaned, swept, washed clothes, scrubbed the bathroom tiles again even though they weren’t dirty. My body was giving up on me, slowly, steadily. Every morning I woke up feeling weaker than the day before. Sometimes I wondered how I was still moving at all. I was just… tired. Tired of life. Tired of breathing. Tired of existing.After I finished bathing, I warmed the food Caroline left behind and forced myself to eat. My body needed it, even if my heart didn’t. Caroline had left very early for work today, and for that alone, I was grateful. After everything that happened yesterday, after everything she let happen, my whole body felt sore, violated, confused. It still hurt to sit properly.When I finished eating, I went into the kitchen, opened the drawer, and picked up a knife.My hand was shaking.My mind was louder than my heartbeat.Just do it. End it. End everything.But then the thought of the pain rushed in, the sharpness, the blood

Teresa’s PovI swear the whole house probably heard me singing. I didn’t even care. I needed the noise. I needed the freedom.I stood in front of the mirror, curling my straight hair and screaming the lyrics of whatever song was playing. My voice was terrible, but today? I didn’t mind. Today was mine.My jean shorts hugged me perfectly, my crop top sat right where it should, and my black boots made me feel like I actually owned my life for once. Caroline’s makeup kit was open on the table, expensive powders she barely used. I tapped a little on my cheek, blended it, touched my lips with gloss… and smiled.I looked twenty-one.I felt twenty-one.I grabbed the money, the one she left, and the little stash I’d secretly saved — and headed out. First stop: the café I’d always admired from afar.The bell above the door jingled as I walked in. Soft music. Warm air. The smell of vanilla. I ordered a dark roast with vanilla swirl and a slice of toast they were famous for. I picked a window sea