~~Elena~~

The next day, I went to see Grandma. When I stepped into her hospital room, the steady beep of the monitor was the only sound that welcomed me. She lay so still, her frail chest rising and falling in shallow breaths that made my heart ache.

I dragged a chair close to her bedside and carefully took her fragile hand in mine. Her skin was paper-thin, cold against my warmth, and I held it as if letting go might mean losing her forever. Lowering my head onto the mattress, I pressed my face against her arm, longing for the comfort of her voice, the reassurance of her touch.

"Please, Grandma..." I whispered through trembling lips. "Wake up. Tell me everything's going to be okay... because I don't know how to live in this world without you."

Buzz.

My phone lit up with a new message from the girls' group chat.

" Elena we heard you are getting engaged, are you giving up your dream of becoming a lawyer?"

I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. My fingers moved slowly across the keyboard before I finally typed:

" I don't have any other choice. Grandma is sick.",

For a moment, the chat went silent. Then one of them replied:

"sorry about that, wish I could help"

Another bubble popped up almost immediately from a different friend:

" Why don't we catch up tonight? Let's celebrate your last night of being single.",

I hesitated, biting my lip. The truth was, I didn't feel like celebrating at all. But staring at Grandma's still form in the hospital bed, I realized I couldn't sit in the silence any longer either. With a sigh, I typed back:

" Ok."

*********

Later that night, I arrived at our usual club. The place was loud, buzzing with music and laughter as always. Neon lights flashed across the crowded dance floor. But this time, it felt different. I was no longer the host, no longer the girl who bought the drinks and commanded attention. My pockets were empty, my problems too heavy, and for the first time, I felt like a stranger among my own friends.

I sat among them, silent, as though I had lost my voice. Their laughter and chatter filled the air, but I felt like I didn't belong anymore.

"That guy doesn't deserve your virginity," one of them said suddenly, sipping her drink. "He's a total mess. He dated my cousin and her friend at the same time."

Another leaned in with a smirk. "Why not just pick someone and get wild tonight."

For a moment, I actually thought they were right. How could I keep something as precious as my virginity for a reckless scoundrel who had a reputation as a playboy . Maybe I should get wild tonight.

Then, almost mockingly, one of them laughed and echoed words that had once been mine: "Whatever you're doing today, Elena bills on me."

The others joined in, laughing, chanting it back at me. My heart ached. Those had been my words–the careless arrogance of a girl who thought she ruled the world. I never imagined they would be turned against me.

I forced a smile, raising my glass with trembling hands. "Okay, guys. The first man that walks through that door, I'm going to walk up to him and ask him out tonight."

They screamed in excitement, clapping and cheering for my so-called boldness. My heart rate increased in my chest as we all turned toward the entrance, waiting... watching...

In a few seconds, the door opened and in it walked a tall man. His presence alone demanded attention. His body was carved like a god, every inch of him radiating power and control. The suit he wore fit so perfectly as if it was crafted solely for his frame. Just looking at him sent a strange chill racing down my spine, a mix of desire and fear.

The cheers around me died instantly. My friends, who had been laughing and screaming seconds ago, fell into stunned silence. It was as if they had seen a ghost.

The girls beside me pulled at my arm, urging me to sit down. "Elena, don't," one of them whispered sharply, her eyes wide with something I couldn't quite place.

But the alcohol had loosened my restraint. My blood was hot, I shoved their hands away and staggered to my feet, every step pulling me closer to him.

He sat on a chair near the bar, commanding the space with effortless dominance. With a wave of his hand, he ordered a glass of whisky. The moment I reached him, his scent wrapped around me rich, intoxicating, dangerously captivating.

Drawn in, I gradually moved closer, my alcohol-fueled courage pushing me further. I rested my hand lightly on his broad shoulder.

"How much for a night, handsome?" I whispered, forcing a playful smile.

He turned his head, and for the first time, our eyes met. His hazel eyes were cold, yet impossibly charming. As he showed no emotion.

Without a word, he lifted his glass and took a slow sip of his whisky, deliberately ignoring me, as though I were invisible.

The rejection burned deep into my heart, shattering my ego. Even if I was broke, I had never been rejected before. I always believed I was attractive of course I am.

I tugged gently at his tie, drawing his face closer to mine. He moved without resistance. My gaze locked with his–those eyes so dangerously charming, they seemed to pull me in deeper with every second. Slowly, I traced my eyes from the dark depths of his gaze, down the sharp line of his nose, until they lingered on his bow-shaped lips, soft and inviting...

Without thinking, I pressed my lips against his, tasting the bitterness of whisky on his mouth. At first, he hesitated, then-slowly-his lips parted, giving me access. I slid my tongue against his, and when his tongue finally responded. There was a spark as his kiss was powerful, consuming, pulling me deeper until I could barely breathe.

Before I could even process what was happening, we were already inside a room bathed in a dim red glow. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken desire. He shut the door behind us with a soft but final thud, and in the same motion, pressed me against it. My back hit the wood, my breath catching in my throat.

His lips trailed kisses down my neck, so aggressively as a groan escaped his lips, raw and desperate, as if he had been starving for this moment his entire life. Immediately my gown was ripped away, fabric tearing as cold air licked at my bare skin. I was left in only my bra and panties. My skin burning under the dim red light. In one swift motion, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against himself.My weak arms clung desperately around his neck, seeking balance, while my legs wrapped tightly around his waist on instinct. I gasped as his hardness pressed against me through the thin barrier of the fabric.I could feel every breath he took, every heartbeat pounding against his chest as if it were echoing into mine.

My back hit the soft mattress with a bounce, he leaned in, tracing kisses down my body–my neck, my chest, my stomach,

Every brush of his lips ignited me, and I couldn't control the way my body betrayed me, my legs winding tighter around him, my hips arching upward, desperate, silently begging for more.

"You will regret this", he said with a soft voice on my ears

"I won't", I strike back longing for his touch

He leaned in for another kiss and then paused, his lips hovering over mine once more. "Are you sure about this?" he asked again, his voice husky, almost strained.

How many times will he ask me that?

I answered without words, pulling his head down, crushing my lips against his. That was all the permission he needed.

A sharp cry escaped my throat as he pushed inside me. Pain and pleasure collided in a dizzying wave-I had never felt anything like it.

"Your first time?" he asked, his breath fasting.

I nodded, biting down on my fingers as my body tried to adjust, the burn giving way to a flood of aching sweetness.

"I'll be gentle," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, before his thrusts became slow, and gentle. The ache melted into pleasure until all I could do was moan, the sound spilling helplessly from me.

The tension broke in a flood, leaving me trembling in his arms, my body powerless as his strength pressed against me. We shattered together, breathless.

Gradually I curled into his arms , like a baby seeking shelter. For the first time in a long time it felt safe.

~~Elena~~~

I woke up the next morning and noticed a strange man lying on the bed beside me. Slowly, I raised the blanket, my eyes widening.

What? I slept with a stranger?

The memories of last night came rushing back.I pressed my palm to my lips, remembering the taste of his kiss, the heat of his hands, the way I had surrendered so completely. Shame, fear, and something dangerously close to longing twisted inside me, leaving me breathless. I searched for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. I quickly reached out for my clothes, only to discover they were torn beyond recognition. Is this man a tiger? How did he rip my clothes like this?

I grabbed his white long sleeve shirt, which barely covered my butt, and dashed out of the room. At the reception desk, I asked a lady to check if anyone had turned in a phone. She shook her head, and I quickly asked for hers which she did. Immediately I dialed Mariana's number-one of the girls from last night, and my closest friend.

"Hi, what about my cell phone?" I asked.

"It's here," Mariana replied. "Your uncle has been calling nonstop. I had to tell him you were at my place, but I went out with your phone."

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Not so fast," she continued. "You have to make your way to the engagement party. Your uncle is crazy-he even threatened to cut off your grandmother's medical bills. I thought she was his mother too!"

"Thanks, Mariana. That's a story for another day, but right now I need something to wear."

"Okay. I'll send my driver to you. Just wait."

I handed the phone back to the lady, and she gave me a small nod.

"Thank you very much," I said softly.

While I waited, my eyes caught movement at the top of the staircase-and there he was. The man from last night. He is just too powerful even in the simplest act of descending the stairs, his assistant trailing closely behind like a shadow.

Panic rose in my chest, and without thinking, I pressed myself against the cold marble pillar, hiding from view.

I held my breath, terrified he might notice me... yet a part of me desperately wished he would, in just a few seconds they made their way to the exit door.

Not long after, the driver arrived, handing me a bag containing a silver, shimmering gown along with my phone. I quickly asked the receptionist for the ladies' bathroom, which was pointed out to me.

Inside, I caught sight of myself in the mirror-my hair messy, my lips swollen, I was in a total mess . I tried to freshen up, and I noticed a thick substance mixed with blood on my thighs. Oh my God!, Shame burned in my chest as I quickly brushed it off, not wanting to think too deeply about what it meant.

After cleaning up and changing into the gown, I stepped out, composed as much as I could manage. The driver opened the door, and I slid into the backseat. Heart racing as I went through the messages my uncle sent.

*******************************

Arriving at the party, I noticed it was full of powerful families from all over Madrid. I walked slowly, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces, until my eyes landed on Mariana, my friend, and her parents, along with other families deep in discussion, and a young man standing with them. I didn't move closer; all those families looked down on me. Mariana's family are not excluded.

A few seconds later, Mariana's eyes met mine. She quickly excused herself and walked toward me.

"You aren't even wearing makeup. Let's go to the bathroom," she said, grabbing my hand like a mother guiding her child.

"Why did you guys let me follow a stranger out?" I asked in a low, frustrated tone.

She didn't answer, instead quickening her pace toward the bathroom. Once inside, she checked each stall until she confirmed we were alone, then sighed heavily.

"Elena... Do you know what you've done?" Her sudden fear surprised me.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to steady the heartbeat threatening to burst from my chest.God, I hope no one saw me... The thought clawed at me, sharp and relentless.

She took a deep breath, about to speak, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted her.

"Elena, I know you're in there. You better come out before your uncle cuts your grandmother's medical bills. You can't back out now, unless you want to see her die," my aunt's voice said, cold and terrifying.

Mariana quickly brushed my gold-blonde hair into a center-parted style and rubbed a light pink gloss across my lips.

I quickly made my way out. I met my aunt graze, Her eyes narrowed, sharp as blades, and her lips curled into a cold, disdainful hiss.She turned sharply on her heel, her steps quick. I had no choice but to follow, trailing behind her like a shadow. Each click of her heels echoed in my chest, a reminder of how small and powerless I'd become.

Reaching the inside of the party, I noticed my uncle and cousin standing alongside with the older man from before, and the same lady still holding onto him. I wondered why she was always with him.

Gradually, we drew closer to them. The old man's face lit up.

"Elena, I know you were very stressed, that's why you didn't make it on time. But don't worry, the party won't start without the princess." I forced a smile as I walked closer to him.

"Where is that stubborn son of yours?" he asked the woman holding him.

She scanned the room. "He should be here, Dad."

"Mom, Grandpa, were you looking for me?" a young man said as he approaching us with a lady holding his arm, He stood tall, his golden hair catching the light as though it were meant to draw admiration. A smile curved on his lips, confident, practiced, almost charming. But to me, it was rotten. Beneath its shine, I saw only arrogance, and the sight of it twisted my stomach in disgust.

I didn't need to be told that this was the person I was going to marry.I noticed the crowd murmuring around us. Immediately I caught my aunt and cousin sharing a soft, mocking laugh, their eyes glinting with amusement at my discomfort.

This guy isn't even handsome compared to the ones I've rejected , and he's acting all mighty, as if the world revolves around him. ,I thought, as my lips curled in quiet disdain.

My mind, however, kept drifting to the hottie from last night. Geez... the memory hit me hard. Just thinking about him alone made my mouth water. I swallowed hard, trying to steady the sudden heat rising in me.

"I wondered who the heck would bring his whore to his own engagement." The old man said struck his walking stick hard against the floor

I wasn't even surprised.

"This marriage is indeed a transaction, Grandpa" he drawled, his voice smooth but laced with mockery.

"Oh, wow... my fiancée," he added as he stepped closer. Instinctively, I stepped back a little.

"You look like Cinderella," he smirked, tilting his head. "And I suppose that makes me the prince, doesn't it?" His tone was so sarcastic it made the words sting.

The woman he came with let out a soft, knowing chuckle, as though the joke was funny.

He circled me slowly, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. It felt less like admiration and more like a predator studying its prey. Finally, his lips curled into a wicked smile.

"With curves like these," he murmured, leaning just close enough to make my skin crawl, "I have a feeling you would be interesting in bed."

"You bastard!" Grandpa's voice thundered, his face flushed with shame and fury. His hands trembled as he struggled to keep his composure, the weight of humiliation heavy in his eyes.

I turned my gaze toward my uncle, searching for even a flicker of remorse. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets quickly, his jaw tightening as if to mask his guilt behind arrogance.

Just in a second.

A heavy silence swallowed the room, thick enough to make every breath feel louder than it should. Then, the sound of polished shoes echoed across the marble floor. Each step carried a weight that demanded attention.

Slowly, almost against my will, I turned my head. And there he was.

The hottie from last night.

~~Elena~~

Just like when he had entered the bar, everything around him seemed to bend to his presence.

"Oh my God..." My mouth fell open in awe as I struggled to understand why he was here.

Every memory of last night came flooding back, the way he moved, the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel, and I couldn't stop the flush creeping across my skin.

"Hello, Uncle," my so-called fiancé said, dismissing his hands from his love and running to him like a puppy who had just seen its master.

"Uncle..." I mustered out, almost losing my balance. What the heck have I done? I slept with my fiancé's uncle!

He moved closer, each step deliberate, unhurried, as though the entire room belonged to him. My chest tightened. Feeling a wave of shame and guilt, I slowly lowered my head.

"Why do I feel like I've seen this face before?" he murmured, his voice low yet powerful, carrying across the silence like a challenge. It wasn't a question-it was a statement, heavy with authority, as though he already knew the answer and was daring me to deny it.

"This is your nephew's wife, her name is Elena Ramos. These are her family, her father, mother, and elder sister," the old man said, introducing us.

The man nodded and stretched his hand toward me. "Nice to meet you, my niece-in-law."

I trembled as I reached out. He squeezed my hand, and that alone sent heat rushing under my thighs. My breath hitched, my heart racing. I quickly pulled my hand back.

The old man continued, "This is my only son, Alejandro Rodriguez, the heir of the Rodriguez family. He decides all the affairs of the family."

Elena! Elena!! Elena!!!, what have you done, I've really messed with the wrong person, I thought, panic curling in my stomach. I forced myself to stand tall, trying to piece together what little composure I had left. But before I could steady myself, my cousin shoved past me roughly, almost knocking me to the floor, as she stretched out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Isabella Ramos. an Oxford university graduate" she said, blushing.

He gave her a cold look, staring at her hand, then casually placed his own in his pocket. The mother and son let out a soft laugh, as if they had expected his rejection. I wanted to laugh too, but held back. Right now, I was in a bigger mess than she was.She gradually stepped back, her eyes narrowing with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

"Welcome to the family," he said to me, his voice low and deliberate, as he left with his assistant, ...and his family followed suit, their smiles painted on as they extended greetings to the other families.

"So... you said I was your daughter?" I asked my uncle.

He quickly gave me a cold gaze, without explanation. I knew what that meant. Grandma's life... my only weakness.

Come with me. There are still scores between us that need settling. He said

I stared at my cousin, sobbing uncontrollably, her mother's hands gently brushing her hair back as she whispered for her to calm down before her makeup ruined.

The sight was almost too funny; I couldn't resist but mimicking what she said earlier.

"I am Isabella Ramos, an Oxford graduate," I said,

"Mum, look at this bitch!"She shouted out loud, her voice carrying across the room and making the crowd turn to stare. Her mother rushed to calm her, but all eyes were already on them.

I didn't even spare a second. I quickly fell in step behind my uncle, moving through the whispers and stares with ease.

***********

"Elena, where were you last night? You were supposed to spend time with your fiancé, and cultivate feelings," my uncle's voice cut sharply through the air.

My problem is getting so complicated, I am caught in the cruel dilemma pressing down on me from all sides-torn between my fragile grandma lying in a hospital bed and this suffocating contract marriage.

Marrying a playboy wasn't even the real problem anymore. Deep inside, I knew it-I had already crossed paths with the wrong man.

"You'll be moving in with them today,Your belongings will be sent tomorrow morning." my uncle said flatly.

My fists clenched at my sides, heat rising in my chest. "But why, Uncle? What about Grandma? She needs me, I ..I need to be with her!" My voice shook, not from weakness but from barely restrained anger.

His eyes narrowed, his tone sharp as a blade. "This project will last three years. You will stay with them. About your grandmother, you can visit her once a week. But if you mess up this contract..." He leaned in, his words dripping with venom. "Then prepare yourself to meet her corpse."

My breath hitched, fury burning hotter than my fear. How dare he use Grandma's life like a bargaining chip?

*******

Later that night, we arrived at the Rodriguez mansion. The place towered above me, grand and intimidating, its walls whispering secrets of power and wealth I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of.

A maid welcomed me politely and led me through the long, echoing hallways until we reached a spacious bedroom. The air smelled faintly of roses and polished wood. Everything inside was meticulously arranged, the wardrobe already filled with elegant clothes in my size, shelves lined with expensive handbags, glistening jewelry, and neatly displayed designer heels.

"The elder arranged all this for you," the young maid said softly, her eyes dropping with practiced humility. "If you need anything, ma, please let me know."

I forced a nod, though my chest tightened. This room was beautiful, yet it felt like a golden cage.

After my bath, I slipped into the silk nightwear laid out for me.

On my way out of the room, I caught sight of a maid hurrying down the stairs.

"What about Carlos?" I asked quietly, almost hesitant.

She paused, lowering her gaze. "He doesn't usually come home, ma'am."

I gave a small nod, more to myself than to her, and walked toward the balcony.

The night air was cool, brushing against my face as I stepped outside. The balcony was beautifully crafted, perfectly arranged with elegant furniture and glowing lanterns-but my eyes wandered past it.

I stared at the dazzling city lights sprawled out below, then lifted my gaze to the endless sky. My chest tightened as a whisper escaped my lips.

"Mom... Dad... I need your help."

I heard the soft click of a lighter. immediately my gaze shifted to the shadowed corner of the balcony, where a tall figure leaned casually, the tiny flame illuminating, smoke curled lazily from the cigarette, wrapping around him like a veil, softening the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his eyes.

He took a slow step closer, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him even from a distance.

Then I saw him- the man from last night, standing there like a shadow carved from moonlight. My chest tightened, and my fingers curled instinctively, though I tried to keep my movements calm.

With a voice barely more than a whisper, trembling with a mix of longing and disbelief, escape through my mouth:

"Alejandro..."