I’m shivering, my teeth chattering, but I barely feel the cold.
The numbness inside me is far colder than any rain could ever be.
I stand in the doorway of the living room, dripping water onto the wooden floor.
My father is sitting on the sofa, and Isabella is beside him, her hand wrapped around his, her dark eyes fixed on me with something that looks almost like triumph.
My father looks up.
His cold eyes scan my soaked dress, my tangled hair, my tear-streaked face.
He frowns.
“Aitana,” he says, his voice flat and unimpressed.
“What happened to you?
Why are you soaking wet?” I take a shaky step forward.
“Dad, I need to talk to you.” He raises an eyebrow.
“Can’t it wait until you’ve dried off?
You’re making a mess of the floor.” “It can’t wait,” I say, my voice cracking.
“It can’t wait.
Please.
Just listen to me.” Isabella squeezes his hand.
“Rafael, maybe she should go change first.
She looks so cold.
We can talk after she’s comfortable.” “No,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.
“I need to say this now.
I need you to hear me.” My father sighs, clearly annoyed.
“Fine.
Say what you need to say.” I take a deep breath.
The words are building in my chest like a storm.
“Tonight, at the party, I overheard my friends mocking me.
Diego.
Sofia.
Carmen.
They were laughing at me.
Laughing at my pain.
Laughing at my secret.” My father’s expression doesn’t change.
“What secret?” I feel the heat rise to my cheeks.
“The secret I told Carmen.
About Leo.
About how I feel about him.
She told everyone.
They were all laughing at me.
They chose Elena over me.
They chose her.” I look at Isabella.
Her face is smooth and composed, but I see something flicker in her dark eyes.
Satisfaction.
Victory.
“I’ve lost my friends, Dad.
All of them.
They’ve all been stolen away by Elena.
She’s been charming them, manipulating them, turning them against me.
And it worked.
It worked perfectly.” My father’s jaw tightens.
“Aitana, you’re being dramatic.
Elena is a good girl.
She’s sweet and kind.
She wouldn’t do something like that.” “She’s not sweet!” I shout, the tears spilling down my cheeks.
“She’s cunning!
She’s manipulative!
She’s been playing all of you like puppets!” Isabella places a soothing hand on my father’s arm.
“Rafael, she’s clearly upset.
She’s not thinking straight.
Maybe we should give her some time to calm down.” “No,” I say, my voice breaking.
“I’m not going to calm down.
I’m not going to stop.
Because I need you to see.
I need you to understand.” I turn to my father, my eyes begging him to believe me.
“Dad, I’ve lost everything.
My friends.
My place in the club.
My happiness.
And now I feel like I’m losing you too.” He looks at me, and for a moment, I see something soften in his eyes.
Something that looks almost like guilt.
“Aitana, I—” “Rafael,” Isabella interrupts, her voice gentle but firm.
“The girl is exhausted.
She’s clearly been through something traumatic tonight.
Perhaps we should let her rest and we can discuss this tomorrow.” She’s doing it again.
She’s cutting me off.
She’s controlling the conversation.
My father looks at her, then back at me.
I see the conflict in his eyes.
I see him wavering.
“Dad, please,” I whisper.
“I need you to believe me.
I need you to be my father.
I need you to protect me.” He opens his mouth to speak.
But Isabella speaks first.
“Aitana, darling,” she says, her voice dripping with false sympathy.
“I understand you’re hurting.
Truly I do.
Losing friends is never easy.
But you can’t blame Elena for being liked.
She’s just a sweet girl trying to find her place in this family.
She’s not trying to take anything from you.” I stare at her.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“She’s been scheming this whole time,” I say, my voice trembling with rage.
“She’s been manipulating everyone.
She’s been poisoning my friendships.
And you’re just going to stand there and pretend she’s innocent?” Isabella sighs.
“I’m not pretending anything, dear.
I’m just trying to be objective.
You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.
Maybe you’re seeing things that aren’t there.” “Like what?” I demand.
“Like my friends laughing at me?
Like Elena whispering in their ears?
Like you and your daughter plotting to take everything from me?” Isabella’s eyes narrow.
Just slightly.
Just for a moment.
And then her face is smooth again.
Composed.
Untouchable.
“Aitana, I think you’ve said enough for one night,” she says, her voice cold and final.
“Rafael, the girl needs to rest.
She’s clearly not herself.” My father looks at me.
His cold eyes are filled with something I can’t read.
Pity?
Disappointment?
Exhaustion?
“Aitana,” he says, his voice heavy.
“I think Isabella is right.
You need to rest.
We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” I laugh, bitter and hollow.
“Tomorrow you’ll say the same thing.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
You’ll never see the truth.
You’ll never believe me.” “Aitana—” “Mom was right,” I whisper, the tears streaming down my face.
“She told me to never let anyone take my freedom.
She told me to fight for what’s mine.
But I can’t fight this.
I can’t fight all of you.” My father stands up.
“Don’t bring your mother into this.” “Why not?” I shout.
“She’s the only one who ever loved me!
She’s the only one who ever believed in me!
And she’s gone!
She’s gone, and you replaced her with her!” I point at Isabella, my hand shaking.
“She’s been poisoning you against me from the start, and you’re too blind to see it!
You’re choosing her over your own daughter!” My father’s face turns red.
His fists clench at his sides.
“Enough!” he roars.
“I will not stand here and listen to you disrespect your stepmother!
Isabella has been nothing but kind to you, and you throw it back in her face!” “Kind?” I scream.
“She’s been scheming behind your back!
She’s been using you!
She doesn’t love you!
She loves your money, your power, your club!” Isabella gasps, placing a hand over her heart like I’ve mortally wounded her.
“Rafael,” she says, her voice trembling.
“I can’t believe she would say such things.
I’ve tried so hard to be a mother to her.
I’ve tried so hard to make this family work.” My father turns to me, his eyes blazing with fury.
“Apologize to Isabella.
Now.” “No,” I say, my voice cold and flat.
“Aitana—” “I said no.” I look at him.
“I’ve lost everyone I love tonight.
My friends.
My family.
My place in this club.
And now I realize I’ve lost you too.” I take a step back, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces.
“You’re choosing her,” I whisper.
“After everything I told you, after everything I showed you, you’re choosing her.
The woman who has been destroying me from the inside out.” He doesn’t deny it.
He doesn’t say anything.
He just stands there, his face hard, his eyes cold.
“Go to your room,” he says, his voice final.
“We’ll talk about this when you’ve calmed down.” I stare at him.
The man who used to be my hero.
The man who used to hold me and tell me everything would be okay.
Now he’s nothing but a stranger.
I look at Isabella.
She’s smiling.
Just a little.
Just enough for me to see.
And I realize it.
Everything has been orchestrated from the start.
Every whisper, every manipulation, every carefully placed word.
I was too deep.
I was too far gone to be saved.
I am alone.
Completely, utterly, heartbreakingly alone.
I turn and walk out of the living room.
My feet are heavy, each step feeling like I’m wading through quicksand.
I climb the stairs to my room.
I close the door behind me.
And I lean against it, sliding down to the floor.
The tears come, hot and fast and uncontrollable.
I’m alone.
I have nothing.
No friends.
No father.
No family.
No home.
I am the princess who lost her crown.
And no one is coming to save me.