Meanwhile, in an elite district in the southern part of the city, stood a magnificent neoclassical mansion belonging to the Terrano family.
Massive pillars adorned the front terrace, while tall windows revealed the luxurious interior within.
The ceilings soared high, decorated with intricate carvings and crystal chandeliers.
The walls were lined with polished marble—every corner designed to show that its occupants were anything but ordinary.
John Terrano, the owner of the house, was a successful money changer businessman with branches in various cities.
Rumor had it that his company was a front for money laundering for corrupt businessmen and officials.
But that day, the grand mansion was not discussing stocks or business deals—it was dealing with something far more personal: the troubled heart of his second son, Peter Terrano.
Although he was the second child, Peter was more favored by his parents than his older brother—especially by his mother, who always spoiled him.
But lately, Peter had lost his zest for life.
He no longer attended parties, his red sports car sat idle in the garage, and his social media accounts—once filled with luxurious vacation photos—had gone silent.
His mother, Celestine, began to suspect that something was wrong.
Ever since his reunion with Florentina, or Flora as he once knew her, Peter had changed drastically.
The girl he had once abandoned—without much reason other than boredom—had suddenly reappeared in his life with an appearance and aura that were almost unrecognizable.
Flora used to be a simple girl from an ordinary family, with her hair tied back and modest clothing.
But now, she had transformed into an elegant woman, radiating authority and a charm that was impossible to ignore.
Her beauty was no longer “ordinary”—it was striking.
Peter felt like barren land finally touched by rain.
But unfortunately, that rain had no intention of staying.
Florentina ignored him.
Message after message he sent, even trying to call her from different numbers.
But the result was always the same—read, but never answered.
He even noticed that he had been blocked on her social media.
Peter, who was used to getting everything easily, felt his pride being slapped.
I was the one who left her back then.
But now?
She won’t even look at me, he muttered to himself.
At first, he tried to be patient.
He attempted a gentle approach—sending flowers, gifts, even invitations to dine at five-star restaurants.
But all of it was ignored.
Gradually, frustration and anger turned into a dangerous determination.
“I have to get Flora back. No matter how,” he said, staring at his reflection with red eyes and a weary face.
In the following days, Peter locked himself in his room, unable to do anything except dwell in his anxiety and figure out how to win Flora back.
The curtains were always closed, his laptop screen glowed untouched, and leftover food plates piled up.
Celestine, who was usually busy with her socialite life, became genuinely worried.
Her once cheerful son now seemed completely lost.
“Are you sick, darling?” she asked one morning, sitting at the edge of Peter’s bed, touching his forehead.
“Do you have a fever? Why do you look so pale?”
Peter only shook his head slightly and pulled the blanket over his face.
“I’m just tired, Mom.”
But the lie didn’t last long.
When Christine, Peter’s cousin—known for being talkative yet clever—came to visit, she managed to uncover the real reason behind his drastic change.
“Is this all because of a girl?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow.
Peter sighed, then finally admitted,
“It’s… Flora. She’s changed. Beautiful. Elegant. But she rejected me completely. Now it’s like she doesn’t even know me…”
Christine frowned.
The name sounded familiar.
“Flora? The one you dated and dumped when she started college?”
Peter nodded, his head lowered.
“I used to think she was ordinary. But now she’s completely different—like heaven and earth. And the craziest part is… I’m obsessed with her.”
Christine sat cross-legged at the edge of the bed, studying him thoughtfully.
She knew her cousin—stubborn, selfish, always getting what he wanted.
But this time, he was facing someone different.
And that intrigued her.
“If she’s really changed that much, of course she won’t just come back to you,” Christine said teasingly.
“You’re her ex. A hurtful one. You have to make her feel like you’re irreplaceable.”
Peter looked up.
“How? She won’t even see me…”
Christine smiled slyly.
“Easy.
We make her feel guilty.
Or at least… make her care.”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked, now interested.
“We make you pretend… that you’re seriously ill. A rare disease or something. If she has a heart, she’ll come.”
Peter fell silent.
The scheme was manipulative, and it made him hesitate.
But his desire to get Flora back was too strong.
“I don’t know, Chris… Mom will panic.”
“That’s the point,” Christine replied.
“Your mom will ask everyone for help—including asking for the one person who can ‘give you the will to live again.’ And that’s when… you say Flora’s name.”
________________________________________
The next day, Celestine was shocked by Christine’s panicked voice.
“Aunt! Peter’s getting worse! He just coughed up blood!”
Celestine panicked immediately.
Without further checking, she called the family doctor and ordered the guards to prepare the car to rush to the hospital.
But the doctor found nothing medically wrong.
Peter looked pale from lack of sleep, but his vitals were normal.
Celestine was confused—until Peter, in a weak voice, said:
“Mom… if I die… please tell Flora… I’m sorry…”
Tears instantly streamed down Celestine’s face.
“Who is Flora, darling? The girl you love?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Peter nodded weakly.
Christine, standing behind him, pretended to wipe away tears.
“They used to date, Aunt.
But they broke up because of a misunderstanding.
And now Peter realizes… he truly loves her.”
“And she’s the only reason I still want to live…” Peter murmured.
Celestine was immediately moved.
She couldn’t bear the thought of losing her son.
If bringing that girl here could save him, she would do anything.
________________________________________
That very day, Celestine ordered her personal assistant to find Florentina.
It didn’t take long to discover that she worked at a pharmacy.
That afternoon, a luxury car stopped in front of the pharmacy.
A young woman with short hair and fair skin—Christine—stepped out, dressed casually.
Inside the car, a well-dressed middle-aged woman—Celestine—waited with the driver.
As Christine entered, tension immediately filled the counter area.
“Tell Flora to hide. Now,” whispered a girl behind the counter.
“Good afternoon,” Christine greeted.
“Good afternoon,” Anne, the counter attendant, replied politely despite her nervousness.
“Can I meet Florentina?” Christine asked bluntly.
“Oh, you’re too late. She officially resigned today and already received her termination letter earlier.”
Christine paused, frowning.
“May I have her address?”
“She lives at Apartment 62 Third, Rovella Road, Block II.”
“Thank you.”
Christine left without another word.
Without wasting time, Celestine immediately ordered the driver to head to the address.
When they arrived, they found an old woman with a cane sitting by the door.
“Does Florentina live here?” Celestine asked arrogantly.
“That woman left without paying rent and left a huge electricity bill!” the old woman snapped.
“Where did she go?” Celestine demanded.
“If I knew, I’d collect her debts,” the woman grumbled.
Furious, Celestine stormed off.
________________________________________
Back at the pharmacy, laughter filled the room.
With clever deception, Dean Sanders had given them the address of another “Florentina”—a Mexican woman who had run away without paying rent.
“Today, Florentina’s whereabouts are unknown,” Dean joked, earning laughter from his coworkers.
________________________________________
Inside the car, Celestine was furious.
“Tomorrow, find that girl no matter what!”
________________________________________
Back home, Celestine rushed to Peter’s room.
Seeing his mother, Peter immediately resumed his “dying” act.
“Brady!” Celestine’s voice echoed through the house.
“No more excuses! Bring that girl here—by any means!”
From the second floor, a tall, muscular young man descended slowly.
His gaze was flat, but there was disgust in his eyes.
He was Brady—Peter’s older brother.
“Mom, this is insane,” he said firmly.
“You want me to kidnap someone just because Peter is ‘sick’?”
Celestine glared, eyes red with anger and tears.
“You don’t understand! He’s lost his will to live. He only says one name—Florentina!”
Brady clenched his fists.
“He’s the one who left her, Mom.
And now we have to bring her back?
By force?”
“If it saves your brother’s life, yes!” Celestine shouted.
“I won’t lose my child again!”
Brady said nothing.
He stared at the window, seeing his fractured reflection.
________________________________________
That night, Brady gathered three men from his old circle—Jackson Tyler, Jay Robert, and Reggy Johnson.
Using a secretly recorded video from Peter’s phone, they studied Florentina’s face.
“So this is the girl that made that spoiled brat fall apart?” Brady muttered.
After seeing her clearly, he scoffed,
“No wonder.”
“Where do we start, boss?” Jackson asked.
“She used to work at Grand Medica Pharmacy. Let’s check there.”
Unexpectedly, as they passed by the pharmacy, they saw Flora stepping out of a car with a female friend and entering the building.
“So she’s still here,” Brady smirked.
“That means they lied about her resignation.”
From that moment on, they followed her in secret.
But every attempt to approach her failed.
Her coworkers always accompanied her.
They even installed small cameras around her house.
Several times they nearly confronted her in the parking lot, but Brady held back.
For some reason, guilt began to grow inside him.
One night, after another failed attempt, one of his men complained,
“Boss, she’s heavily guarded. Should we keep going?”
Brady remained silent for a long time.
In his mind, he saw Peter lying weakly in bed… and heard Celestine’s desperate pleas.
But at the same time, he remembered Flora—the same girl he once saw crying outside their house when Peter disappeared.
“Not tonight,” he finally said.
“We wait.”
________________________________________
The night sky was covered with clouds.
In the distance, a faint siren echoed—perhaps an ambulance or a patrol car.
Brady stared blankly ahead.
________________________________________
On the other side of the city, Flora sat in a dark room, illuminated only by her phone.
She was writing in a small notebook—listing the numbers that had sent her threats, recording strange events, dates, and times.
She knew something much bigger was moving behind all of this.
Whether it was the online loan network… or someone manipulating her guilt.
But one thing was certain:
Her past had never truly died.
And in the stillness of the night, her phone vibrated again.
“You can’t run forever, Flora.”