Chapter 2: The Aftermath of the Storm
The shattered glass on the marble floor sounded like an explosion in the dead silence of the mansion.
Vivian Moretti fell to her knees, not out of apology, but because her legs simply gave out.
The arrogant, untouchable socialite who had practically moved into Alejandro Castillo’s home was now shaking uncontrollably.
Alejandro didn’t even look at her anymore.
His entire world was wrapped in his oversized trench coat, shivering in his arms.
Elena.
His beautiful, brilliant Elena. The woman whose laughter used to fill these empty halls.
She felt so fragile now, her collarbones sharp against his chest, her hands rough and blistered from months of forced labor.
“Someone get a doctor,” Alejandro commanded. His voice wasn't a yell; it was a deadly, quiet blade that sent the remaining servants scrambling in pure panic.
“Alejandro, wait!” Vivian pleaded, crawling forward, ignoring the glass cutting into her knees. “You don’t understand! She’s not who you think she is! When she showed up, she didn't even know her own name!”
Alejandro stopped.
He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto Vivian.
“She had amnesia?” he asked softly.
Vivian swallowed hard, nodding frantically. “Yes! She wandered to the service gates in the rain four months ago. She had no ID, no memory. I… I took pity on her! I gave her a job!”
“You gave her a job.” Alejandro repeated the words as if tasting poison. “You knew exactly who she was, Vivian. You saw her wedding photos in my private study. You saw the portraits. You knew she was missing, you knew I was tearing the world apart looking for her… and instead of telling me, you handed her a mop.”
Vivian’s face drained of the last drop of blood.
“Because you wanted my ring,” Alejandro stepped closer, towering over the pathetic woman on the floor. “You wanted my empire. And you thought if you broke her spirit, she would eventually leave on her own before her memories returned.”
Elena buried her face into Alejandro’s chest, a suppressed sob shaking her thin frame.
“Security!” Alejandro’s voice finally boomed like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the mansion.
Four large men in black suits appeared instantly from the shadows.
“Throw this garbage out into the storm,” Alejandro ordered without a single ounce of mercy. “Let her walk back to the city with nothing but the dress on her back. And if she ever steps within a hundred miles of my wife again, break her legs.”
Screaming and crying, Vivian was dragged out the front doors, the heavy oak slamming shut behind her, sealing her fate in the freezing rain.
Alejandro looked down at the trembling woman in his arms.
May you like
He carefully swept a wet strand of hair from her bruised forehead.
“Let’s go home, mi amor,” he whispered, carrying her up the stairs. “You are safe now. I swear on my life, you will never scrub another floor again.”
