"I want to disappear and start a new life." My voice trembled, but I didn’t take it back. "If you can help me do that… I’ll marry you."
A pause. Then a low, amused chuckle came from the other end of the line. "Of course I can, Isla. Give me five days," Luigi said coolly, his voice laced with danger and promises I had no choice but to trust. "But remember, once I pick you up… there’s no turning back. You’ll belong to me."
I shut my eyes tightly. My nails dug into my palm. "Yes," I whispered, and then ended the call.
Silence surrounded me, broken only by the steady beeping of machines. I stared at the cracked paint on the hospital wall, willing myself not to cry again.
Luigi Villaraza—the devil himself. My family’s greatest rival. The man I was raised to hate. And now, the only one I could run to. Because anything, anyone… was better than staying with a husband who had fooled me for five years.
It was five days ago when everything shattered. I was on the way to a charity auction with my parents. We were in the backseat of my father’s black town car, gliding past the city lights. The charity auction was one of those high-profile events hosted annually by the elites—expensive art, overpriced wine, carefully curated gossip. I’d gone with Mateo in the past, but this year… he wasn’t with me.
“He said he had an emergency board meeting,” I told my parents, adjusting the emerald pendant around my neck. “He’ll follow later.”
My mother raised an eyebrow. “An emergency? On a Saturday evening?”
I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the passing road. “That’s business. You know how it is.”
My father folded his hands together, his expression unreadable. “Isla… are you sure everything’s fine between you two? You’ve given so much to that man. If he’s not treating you right—if he’s cheating—”
I laughed. Too loud, too fast. “Cheating? Mateo would never do that. He’s been under a lot of stress, but he loves me. He’s just busy.”
They didn’t answer right away. The silence in the car felt heavier than usual.
Then a sudden jolt so violent it knocked the breath from my lungs.
The brakes failed. Metal crunched against metal. The sound of tires skidding. A blinding flash of headlights. And then darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was in surgery. Sedated. Drifting between dream and nightmare. But somewhere between unconsciousness and hell, I heard voices.
"Just say she lost the baby," a cold, familiar voice said. "Tell her the accident caused a miscarriage."
It was Mateo. My husband.
"And remove her uterus while you’re at it. She doesn’t need it anymore."
"Are you sure?" the doctor asked, hesitant. "She just lost her parents. And if she finds out, she could fall into depression…"
"Perfect," Mateo said, laughing. "Maybe she’ll finally die from heartbreak. Saves me the trouble. For now, I still need her alive since I need some signatures and stuff to get everything from their company. And I want my child with Layla to be the heir."
Layla. My best friend. Five years ago, Layla ran away the night before her wedding to Mateo.
Mateo’s family had gone bankrupt. Their name was dragged through the mud. And just like that, Layla leaves him humiliated in front of hundreds of guests and the entire business world. I remember standing at the back of the venue, watching him crumble behind a blank stare, jaw clenched as everyone whispered.
And I—stupid, loyal Isla—stepped in. He was my best friend’s fiancé. I should’ve stayed away. But I loved him. So I married him. I carried his shame. I stood by him when the world turned its back. I merged my family’s company with his, poured my blood and name into rebuilding the Madrigal empire. I handed him the power he had lost. I gave him everything.
And for a while, I believed he gave me love in return. But a year ago, Layla returned.
She came to my office uninvited, and said, “I’m not here to ruin you. I just want to fix everything I broke. I just want to be friends with you and Mateo.”
I should’ve thrown her out. But I listened. Like a fool.
Mateo swore it meant nothing. Said he would never forgive her. Said she disgusted him. He raged at her return. Called her a coward. But I should’ve known.
The stolen glances. The sudden absences. The excuses he wrapped in silk. The nights he came home late, smelling like a perfume I didn’t wear. The way he stopped touching me. Like I had become something temporary.
And now… he wanted to erase me.
My child. My existence.
He wanted Layla to have it all.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the scream clawing up my throat. My breath hitched. My nails dug into my palms. The ache wasn’t just physical—it was spiritual. Hollowing.
No. No, I wouldn’t let this end like this. I picked up my phone again, my hand shaking, and dialed the number of our family lawyer.
“Prepare the divorce papers,” I said, voice firm. “Effective immediately. I want everything voided—marriage, shares, all of it.”
“What? Are you sure, Mrs. Madrigal? But there’s a merging coming up to—”
“Cancel everything in five days. Once I’m gone…”
I hung up. But before I could even lower the phone from my ear, a shadow fell across the doorway. Mateo.
"Once you’re gone?" His voice was smooth, laced with suspicion. “Who are you talking to, Isla?”
