Aitana’s Point of View
The days blur together like watercolors in the rain.
One week. It’s been one week since the fight. One week since Leo showed up and bled in the street. One week since I chose Sergio over him.
I tell myself I made the right choice. Sergio saved me. Sergio gave me a home. Sergio gave me everything I have. He found me when I was nothing, when I was sleeping on the streets, when I had no one and nothing. He gave me a purpose, a life, a reason to keep going.
But still, I think about Leo. I hate that I do. I hate that his face haunts me in my quiet moments. I hate that I still wonder if he’s okay, if his ribs are healing, if he’s still searching for me.
Why do I care? I ask myself. He never cared about me. He never fought for me. He never said anything when I needed him most.
But still, I care. I can’t stop caring.
I think about the way he looked at me that night. The desperation in his amber eyes. The way he said my name like it was a prayer. The way he begged me to come home.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust him. But I’ve been burned too many times. I’ve been betrayed by everyone I ever loved. I can’t afford to be vulnerable again.
So I chose Sergio. I chose the safe option. The man who never hurt me. The man who never abandoned me.
But now, I’m not so sure I made the right choice.
I’m sitting on the couch, staring at nothing, when I hear his footsteps. Sergio. He’s been different since the fight. More possessive. More intense. He hovers around me like a guard dog, his hazel eyes always watching, always assessing. He follows me with his gaze, studies my every move, notes every expression that crosses my face.
I used to think it was sweet. I used to think it was his way of showing he cared.
Now, it feels like a cage.
He walks into the living room and stands in front of me. His face is hard, his jaw tight. Gone is the warm smile. Gone is the gentle touch. Something has shifted in him. Something dark and dangerous lurks behind his eyes.
“Aitana,” he says, his voice low and flat. “We need to talk.”
I look up at him, my heart pounding. “About what?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He walks to the window and stares out at the city, his back to me. The silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating.
“I’ve spent four years protecting you,” he says, his voice cold. “Four years keeping you safe from enemies you never knew existed.”
I feel my blood run cold. My hands grip the edge of the couch, my knuckles white.
“What are you talking about?”
He turns to face me. His eyes are dark, unreadable. The warmth I used to see is gone, replaced by something calculating and cold.
“Your father. The Reapers. They have enemies, Aitana. Dangerous ones. The kind of people who don’t play by the rules. The kind of people who would kill without a second thought.” He pauses, letting the words sink in. “I’ve been shielding you from them. Sacrificing everything to keep you safe.”
I shake my head, confusion washing over me like a wave. “I don’t understand. What enemies? What are you talking about?”
He walks toward me, his steps slow and deliberate. Each footfall echoes in the silence like a drumbeat. He stops inches from me, his body blocking my escape. I can smell the leather and gasoline on him, familiar scents that now feel threatening.
“And now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “it’s time for you to repay that debt.”
I stare at him, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Repay you? What do you mean?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. My breath catches in my throat. I know what it is before he even opens it. I’ve seen enough movies, read enough stories, to recognize that shape, that size.
“Marry me,” he says, his voice cold and commanding. “Marry me, Aitana.”
I step back, shaking my head. “Sergio, I can’t. I don’t love you. I only love you as a friend. You’re my best friend. You saved my life. But I don’t—”
His eyes flash with anger. The mask falls completely, and I see the man beneath. The man I never knew existed. The man who’s been hiding behind a charming smile.
“Love?” He laughs, cold and hollow. “This isn’t about love. This is about survival. This is about everything I’ve sacrificed for you. Everything I’ve given up.”
“Sergio, please—”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off, his voice sharp as a blade. “Don’t say no. Not after everything I’ve done for you. Not after everything I’ve given you.”
I feel the tears prick at my eyes. “I didn’t ask you to sacrifice anything. I didn’t ask you to—”
“You didn’t have to,” he says, stepping closer. “I did it because I wanted to. Because I believed in you. Because I thought you were worth saving.”
“And I’m grateful,” I say, my voice shaking. “I truly am. I owe you everything. My life, my career, everything I have. But I can’t marry you. I don’t love you that way.”
He laughs, cold and hollow. The sound sends a chill down my spine. “Love? Love is a luxury we can’t afford. This isn’t about feelings, Aitana. This is about survival. This is about protecting the people you love.”
I stare at him, confusion and fear warring in my chest. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes turn cold, flat. The warmth is gone completely now, replaced by something that looks like contempt.
“If you refuse me, I’ll expose your father. I’ll expose the Reapers. I’ll expose everyone you love to people far more dangerous than me.” He pauses, letting the words sink in. “I’ll destroy everything they’ve built. Everything they’ve worked for. Everything they’ve sacrificed.”
I feel the world tilt beneath my feet. My legs threaten to give way. “You wouldn’t. You can’t.”
“Try me,” he says, his voice dripping with malice. “I have files. I have evidence. I have connections that would make your head spin. I can destroy everything your father has built. Everything the Reapers have worked for. And I will. If you refuse me.”
I shake my head, the tears streaming down my face. “You’re not the man I thought you were. You’re not the man who saved me. You’re not the man I trusted.”
“I’m exactly the man who saved you,” he says. His voice is flat, emotionless. “And I’m exactly the man who can destroy you.”
He reaches out and touches my cheek. His fingers are cold against my skin. I flinch, but he doesn’t pull away.
“Marry me, Aitana,” he says, his voice soft and deadly. “Marry me, or watch them burn.”
I look at him. The man who saved me. The man who gave me a home. The man who helped me rebuild my life from nothing. He gave me a purpose when I had none. He gave me hope when I had lost all of it.
And now, the man who’s threatening to destroy everyone I love.
I think about my father. About the way he chose Isabella over me. About the way he watched me break and did nothing. About the way he let his new wife destroy our family from the inside.
I think about my childhood friends. Diego, who was my shield. Sofia, who was my sister. Carmen, who was my confidante. They all chose Elena over me. They all laughed at my pain. They all let me burn.
I think about Leo. The way he tormented me. The way he pushed me away. The way he watched me leave and said nothing. The way he stood there, frozen, while my world crumbled around me.
They betrayed me. They abandoned me. They let me burn.
But they’re still my family. They’re still the people I love. They’re still the ones I would die to protect.
I can’t let Sergio hurt them. I can’t let him destroy everything I still care about.
But I can’t marry him. I can’t give him what he wants. I can’t chain myself to a man I don’t love for the rest of my life.
I have to find another way. I have to buy myself time. I have to think, to plan, to find a way out of this cage.
“Please, Sergio,” I whisper. “Please, just give me some time. Let me think about it. Let me process all of this.”
He studies me for a moment, his eyes searching my face. I can see him weighing my words, deciding whether to believe me. The seconds stretch into an eternity.
Then he nods slowly. A cold smile plays at the corners of his lips.
“Forty-eight hours,” he says. “You have forty-eight hours to decide.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring. A simple gold band, thin and elegant. It glints in the harsh light, cold and unforgiving. He places it on the workbench beside me. The metal clinks against the wood, a sound that echoes in the silence.
“Forty-eight hours,” he repeats. “And then I’ll have my answer.”
He turns and walks away, his footsteps heavy on the concrete floor. The door slams shut behind him, and I’m alone.
I stand there, frozen, staring at the ring on the workbench.
It’s a cage. A trap. A promise I never wanted to make. A life I never wanted to live.
I think about everything I’ve lost. Everything they’ve taken from me. Everything I’m about to lose.
I have forty-eight hours.
Forty-eight hours to find a way out.
Or watch everything I love burn.