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Ditching My Ex, Becoming The Mafia Queen
NovelShort
Completed
My engagement night was supposed to be the happiest moment of my life. I had dreamed of marrying Marcelo, the heir to the ruthless Ruiz crime empire, since I was a teenager. But as I stood outside the restroom, listening to the hushed whispers of my fiancé and my half-sister, Francine, my world came crashing down. I peeked inside, and what I saw made my blood run cold. Marcelo's hands were all over Francine's body, and the shameless way they carried on made it clear that this wasn't the first time. I Months later, Marcelo begged for my forgiveness, repeatedly, but I was done. I rose up, and I took control, becoming the mafia queen. Marcelo, the man who broke my heart, now cowered in my shadow. And I, the once-broken fiancée, had become the most feared and respected woman in the underworld.
Chapters (10)
第1章
LENA’S POV
It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life – my engagement party to Marcelo, the man I had loved since childhood. But that all changed when I excused myself to use the restroom. As I got closer to the door, I heard conversations that chilled my blood.
The quiet laughter of my half-sister, Francine, blended with the deep voice of my fiancé, Marcelo.
"Mmm, Marcelo, you feel so good," Francine purred. "With Daddy's health failing, we'll be ruling this empire before you know it."
I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. Cautiously opening the door slightly, I looked inside. Marcelo's hands were freely moving over Francine's body without any shame. I watched with tears in my eyes, the betrayal making my heart hurt so bad. How could they even do this?
This lavish engagement celebration was supposed to celebrate my marriage to Marcelo, the Ruiz crime empire's heir. I was betrothed to him since I was a teen and after all these years, I thought he actually loved me. But now, I realized he was just using me.
Marcelo wrapped his arms around Francine's waist and laughed ominously. "You're right, my love. The Morano empire will be ours after that old bastard dies. Little Lena, too." He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "As soon as she serves her purpose, we'll be rid of her for good."
I suppressed a gasp as my hand shot to my mouth. So he was planning to kill me in addition to betraying me with my own sister?
"You know," Francine went on, biting Marcelo's earlobe, "I'm excited to see how she will react when she learns the truth. Hasn't she always been a naive little fool? She's even too weak and fragile to run a mafia empire."
Tears hurt my eyes, making it hard to see. What caused me to be so blind? Marcelo had been playing me all along, feigning love while secretly plotting to take everything away with my own sister.
Blinking back tears, I scrambled for my phone, eager to capture as much evidence as possible before they discovered me.
As I turned to go after filming, I knocked over a vase nearby by mistake in a haste. It fell to the ground with a loud smash.
Marcelo and Francine's heads snapped in my direction as they broke apart.
"Lena!" Francine hissed, spotting me. "You nosy little bitch, how much did you hear?"
I clenched my phone and swallowed hard, trying to choke back a sob. "Enough," I said, my voice shaking. "I know what you two are planning, and I won't let you get away with it."
Marcelo's jaw tightened and his brown eyes narrowed. "So, the little princess has finally learned the truth," he said. "Now, we can't have that, can we?"
"Stay back.” I warned trying to sound firm. “Don't come any closer." I stepped backward, my eyes darting over the hallway, trying to find a way out, my heart pounding.
Before it was too late, I needed to leave this place and alert my mother and the rest of the family.
But Marcelo was quicker, and his lengthy strides soon reduced the gap between us. I felt his hand tighten around my wrist, pulling me back.
"Not so fast, darling," he growled. "You're not going anywhere."
I fought against his grip, gripping my phone firmly with my free hand. "Let go of me, you bastard!" I yelled, trying to break free.
I finally pulled my arm away from his hold and sprinted towards the stairs, using all of my remaining power. However, Francine was there already, grabbing me back with her sharp nails.
"Get back here!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the corridor. "You're going to ruin everything!"
Francine viciously shoved me as soon as I took the first step down the stairs.
I felt myself losing my footing and tumbling forward, the phone falling out of my hand. As I fell down, time appeared to slow. I braced myself for the impact, the sound of my own terrified scream ringing in my ears.
Then, everything went completely dark.
As I lay there, I heard Marcelo's panicked voice. "Shit, shit, shit! Did she fucking die? She wasn't supposed to die like that!"
Francine bent over me, touching my neck and feeling for a pulse. "No, it’s faint but she's still breathing," she said, her tone strained. "We need to get her to a hospital, make it look like an accident."
"An accident?" Marcelo scoffed. "How the hell are we going to explain this? She was fine before and now she's at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding?"
Francine let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, but we have to figure something out. We can't let this ruin everything we've worked for."
第2章
Lena's POV
I lay there, eyes closed, feeling how heavy my eyelids were. My head was pounding with a splitting migraine. I heard the voices of Francine and Marcelo nearby - speaking in hushed tones.
"We don’t want her rambling nonsense if she wakes up. Why don’t we just finish her off now we have the chance?" Francine said.
"If she even wakes up, we've already destroyed the evidence on her phone. It'll be her word against ours," Marcelo muttered in a quiet voice.
What the hell was going on? I tried remembering, but it was all a muddle.
I slowly fluttered my eyes open with the little strength I had. The beeping of machines and the clinical smell told me I was in a hospital.
Marcelo and Francine's faces hovered above me now, staring at me from every angle.
"Lena, darling, you're finally awake!" Marcelo exclaimed, grasping my hand in his. "You’ve been in a coma for two days. How are you feeling?"
"Can you hear us? What happened?" Francine asked, her brow furrowed.
I swallowed hard, my throat bone dry. "I...I don't know. What happened?"
Marcelo gave my hand a gentle squeeze."We were hoping you could tell us. You were found unconscious at the engagement party. Do you remember anything?"
"I'm sorry, I don't remember. What happened?"
Francine and Marcelo exchanged a glance, their faces unreadable. "You, uh, remember anything about a video?" Francine asked with a raised brow.
A video? My mind raced, but I came up empty. "No, I don't. What video?"
They both shared another loaded look. "It's nothing, don't worry about it," Marcelo said quickly, a little too quickly.
Before I could press them further, the door opened and a female doctor strode in. "Ah, Miss Lena, good to see you awake," She gave me a calm smile as she moved to my bed side. "I'm Dr. Emma. How are you feeling?"
"I can't seem to remember what happened." I admitted, wincing.
Dr. Emma nodded pitifully. "That's not uncommon with head injuries like yours. The temporary memory loss is likely due to the trauma. But don't worry, it should come back to you in time. Just don’t try to force it."
Marcelo cleared his throat. "Well, Francine and I should probably get going. Lena needs her rest." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'll be back later, my love."
Francine gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Feel better, Lena."
Once they were gone, Dr Emma turned to me with a serious look. "There's something else I need to discuss with you. I'm afraid you suffered a miscarriage due to your fall. It was very early on. I'm so sorry for your loss."
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. "A miscarriage? But I didn't even know I was pregnant."
Hot tears welled up in my eyes very fast. A baby. I was going to have a baby. And now... "Does my fiancé know?" I asked, my throat feeling tight.
"Yes, I informed him earlier," the doctor said quietly. “Also, you might experience some complications with carrying a child in the near future.”
I understood because this wasn’t the first time I was losing a baby. Marcelo had forced me before now to terminate my own pregnancies.
I had just turned twenty one when he first did it, pressuring me to get an abortion because we "weren't ready" for a baby yet. And as the dutiful partner, I went along with it, even though it broke my heart.
It happened again a year later, and then again, and then once more not long ago. Each time, Marcelo would promise it was the last, that we'd have children when the timing was right. That we'd get married first.
Now I was twenty five years old and had lost another baby because of him.
The tears flowed freely down my cheeks and I felt so foolish, so naive. And the knowledge that Marcelo has been the only man I've ever loved? That I had loved him for ten whole years, made everything much more devastating.
My mother soon rushed in, her face streaked with tears and I was grateful she came in at the right time. As she wrapped me in a warm hug, I confessed to her that I was pregnant and lost the baby.
She was shocked and saddened by the news. She held me close, trying to comfort me as I cried.
As my sobs subsided, Mom’s face turned grave.
"Honey, the doctor said you’re suffering from memory loss but I think Francine had something to do with your accident,"
I gave a small smile that had no warmth. "I know she did, Mama. Because I remember every single thing."
My mother's eyes went wide with shock.
第3章
LENA’S POV
Immediately I woke up, I remembered exactly how I landed in that hospital bed. But I had to keep Marcelo and Francine on their toes. I wanted to be two steps ahead of them so I feigned the temporary memory loss. And they believed me.
“Tell me dear, what actually happened?” Mom probed.
I went on to give her all the details of everything I heard and how I was being pushed down the stairs.
When my father's mistress, Celia and her daughter, Francine, suddenly burst into our lives five years ago, everything changed.
My dad, in an attempt to make amends for his past mistake, had invited them to live with us after discovering Francine was his biological daughter. She was conceived during an infidelity that had been kept hidden from my mother.
At first, my dad tried to make it work, insisting that we welcome them into our home. Francine was his first daughter after all, a year older than me. He cheated when Mom couldn’t give birth few years after their marriage.
But it was clear from the start that Francine had no interest in being a part of our family. She was cold and constantly tried to one-up me.
I remembered the day they moved in so vividly. Francine sauntered through the door, eyeing our house with greed. She was definitely not used to that luxury. Her mother, Celia, simpered at my father, batting her eyelashes. "Thank you so much for having us, darling. We're just thrilled to be here."
I could see the way they had my dad wrapped around their little fingers, and it made me sick to my stomach. From that moment on, it was like my mother and I ceased to exist in our own home.
Francine would constantly belittle me, mocking my interests and insecurities. She knew exactly how to get under my skin, knowing that I had always been the shy and quiet one.
And my father, was so blinded by his affection for Francine and her mother that he never saw the way they were tormenting me.
The worst part was, no matter how much evidence I tried to present, he never believed me. Francine and her mother were masters of deception, putting on a show of sweetness and light whenever my dad was around. They told him lies and he ate it up like a lovesick fool.
I remembered pleading with him to see the truth. "Daddy, please, you have to believe me! Francine is not the angel she pretends to be!"
But he just shook his head, chuckling and patting my hand. "Oh, Lena, you worry too much. Francine is family now, and we have to support her."
It was infuriating, watching him choose them over me and my mother time and time again. I felt so powerless, so invisible in my own home. And the worst part was, now I knew Francine and Celia were just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
If anything happened to Dad, I was supposed to get most of his wealth as his biological daughter. My uncle was going to run the mafia empire if I didn’t want to get my hands dirty. But then despite Francine being an illegitimate daughter, she was still going to get a percentage. But that wasn’t enough for her.
The thought of them wanting to take away everything made my blood boil.
I had been hesitant to have Francine attend my engagement party, fearing she would ruin the celebration. But I never knew she was sleeping with my own fiancé and was a mistress just like her mother.
Now I knew why Marcelo had extended her an invite. He loved her, not me. I gave him everything for the last ten years. All for what?
I sat up, a firm expression on my face. "Mama, I want to take over the family business."
Her ears perked up at the sound of that.
"Mija, do you understand what you're getting into? This life is about bloodshed, betrayal, and constant fear. Is that really what you want?"
I nodded, my jaw set. "Yes, it's exactly what I want. I want to take control and make sure we're never weak again."
Mom's eyes narrowed. "You're angry and hurting, but getting involved in the mafia won't solve anything. It won't bring back your baby or heal your heart."
I shook my head. "You're right. But it will give me the satisfaction of watching Francine and Marcelo pay for what they've done."
Mom's grip on my hand tightened. "If I had known Marcelo was involved in this, I never would have encouraged your relationship with him."
"It's not your fault, Mama. Francine and Marcelo are experts at deception. But that ends now."
第4章
LENA’S POV
I was being discharged from the hospital today and Marcelo had no idea. I had been stuck here for four days and Marcelo had visited me only once. And even then, he had barely spared me ten minutes, claiming he had more "pressing operations" to attend to. I scoffed bitterly, shaking my head.
I looked down at the date on my phone and felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. Today was our relationship anniversary.
Of course he wouldn't remember our anniversary
- not when he was too busy cozying up to that little snake, Francine.
As I made my way out to the front of the hospital, I spotted my mother waiting for me by her car, looking concerned. She never left my side all these days.
"Mija, are you ready to go home?" she asked gently.
I hesitated, staring down at the crumpled discharge papers. "Actually, Mama, I... don't think I want to go back to the mansion just yet.I can't stand the thought of seeing Francine and her mom’s face right now."
Mom frowned. "But mija, that's your home. Where else would you go?"
"I'll stay in a hotel for the night," I replied. "But I'd like to go to Marcelo's place first. I need to grab some of my things."
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't argue, simply nodding and ushering me into the car. The drive to Marcelo's extravagant mansion was silent, except my occasional sniffling here and there as I fought to keep my emotions in check.
When we arrived at the mansion, I told her to wait outside while I went in to collect my belongings. I was determined to pack every single thing that belonged to me.
As I walked towards the entrance, Marcelo's guards looked hesitant to let me in. I glared at them. "Get out of my way."
They stepped aside, and I stormed into the house.
I spotted Marcelo and Francine sitting at the dining table, having a grand feast.
Marcelo was laughing and chatting with her, completely carefree. He didn't even remember our anniversary, but he was celebrating with my half-sister?
As I listened in, he praised her, calling her a "bad ass" who had outsmarted some guys and secured a great deal. He said she was meant to be a mafia queen. I rolled my eyes in disgust.
Francine's annoying laughter rang out, and I had to resist the urge to go drag her by her stupid red hair.
And then the final blow - Francine casually mentioned that she might be pregnant.
I felt the blood draining from my face as I watched Marcelo's face light up with pride, pulling Francine close and kissing her forehead. This was the same man who had forced me to terminate every single one of our pregnancies. But here he was, overjoyed at the prospect of having a child with her.
I had to clench my fists to keep from losing it right then and there.
I carefully stepped into the dining room, striving to look calm.
Marcelo sprang to his feet, a look of surprise on his face. "Wow, Lena, when did you get discharged?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
I scoffed. "How would you know hmm? You were too busy with dear Francine to even bother visiting me in the hospital."
Francine, who was watching the exchange with a sly smile on her face, raised an eyebrow. Marcelo, however, looked taken aback. "Oh no, it's not like that, darling," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "We're just celebrating because we landed a major business deal worth millions."
"Oh, is that so?" I asked not hiding the sarcasm in my voice.
He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, and you should come sit with us and celebrate. Francine is your sister, after all, and her win is yours too."
I laughed harshly. "Francine is not my sister," I spat. "She's a product of a mistress, a woman who destroyed our family with her selfishness and greed. And now, it looks like she wants to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a mistress herself."
Francine's face turned red with anger, and she dramatically clutched at her chest. "How could you be so mean, Lena?"
Marcelo shot me a stern look. "Come on, you need to apologize to Francine,"
I rolled my eyes. "I don't have time for this," I said, turning to walk away.
Francine kicked the chair back noisily and rose to her feet. "I'm leaving," she said with a huff. "I won't be disrespected by this little twig."
Marcelo rushed after her, calling out apologies and reassurances. I watched them go, shaking my head.
Walking to my room, I grabbed my suitcase and started loading my things in it. I was leaving this pathetic excuse of a man right now.
第5章
LENA’S POV
Before Francine walked off angrily, my eyes had wandered to her feet. She was wearing a pair of designer gemstone shoes made in Paris - the exact same pair I wanted desperately for my birthday. I remembered how I had begged Marcelo to get them for me, but he had told me they were out of stock. Instead, he had bought me a pair of shoes I didn't even like, and I had only worn them to please him.
Now I realized why Marcelo had told me the shoes were out of stock. It was because he had gotten them for Francine. I felt like such a fool for not seeing the signs earlier. Marcelo had always favored Francine, but I had been too blinded by his fake love to notice.
I thought back to all the times Francine had done something, and Marcelo had never seemed to have a problem with it. He had always been so accommodating, so supportive. I had thought he was just being nice because Francine was the illegitimate daughter, but now I realized that was just a lie. He had always favored Francine, and I had been too stupid to see it.
I shook my head, feeling sorry for myself. I was done with all the bullshit. I needed some time to clear my head, to figure out what I wanted to do next.
I dragged my suitcase out of the house, taking one last look at the place that had once been my home. My mom was waiting for me outside by the car.
She rushed to my side, pulling me into a tight embrace, and I finally allowed the tears to drop down my cheeks.
"I'm done, Mama," I whispered, feeling my heart breaking. Mom nodded sadly and drove me to the hotel.
As we got checked in, a sudden idea struck me. Perhaps a change of scenery was exactly what I needed. Without wasting time, I pulled out my phone and began searching for flights to Las Vegas.
In thirty minutes, I booked a ticket for the following morning, and a charming Airbnb rental that had caught my eye online.
It was stunning, just the perfect size and modern decor I fancied. However it was expensive, $1000 per night, but I didn't care. I needed a place to escape, and somehow it called out to me and felt like home.
The next morning, Mom drove me to the airport.
As we hugged goodbye, I reminded her not to let anyone know where I was. I needed time for myself and didn’t want anybody’s interference.
I boarded the plane to Las Vegas, feeling excited. I had always loved Las Vegas, the bright lights, the energy, the freedom.
When I finally got settled that same day in my new apartment, my phone rang. It was Marcelo and I wondered what the hell he wanted now. I reluctantly swiped the call left.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Hey, babe," Marcelo replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm so sorry, but I have some bad news. I just got a call from the photographer, and I won't be able to make it to our wedding photo shoot tomorrow."
I raised an eyebrow, feeling irked. "So, we should reschedule?"
He hesitated for a moment before responding. "No need, babe. What's the point of wedding photos, anyway? We can just use some old photos we took in the past. And we'll take a ton of photos on our wedding day, so it's not a big deal."
I felt a spark of anger ignite within me. Was he kidding me? Our wedding photos were important to me, and he was just brushing them off like they didn't matter.
"And then about our engagement party?" Marcelo continued. "We don't need to have another one, right? The last one didn't exactly go well."
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my cool. "Of course. What about my bachelorette party? Should we just cancel it too?"
"No, you should still have it. How about the night before the wedding? But Francine will have to be there. We can't allow her to feel left out."
I couldn't believe the audacity of this man. He was forcing me to include Francine in my bachelorette party, just like he had forced her into our engagement party.
"Of course, Francine will be there," I said, my voice tight. "Just as you wish."
As soon as I hung up the phone, I felt like hitting it against the wall. I was done with Marcelo and his controlling behavior. I was done with the wedding, the engagement party, and the whole charade.
I quickly grabbed my phone and shot a text to my friends in our group chat. "Hey girls, change of plans. The bachelorette party is now a cute sleepover... because I'm calling off the wedding!"
第6章
LENA’S POV
As I sat in my new cozy apartment, sipping on a freshly brewed latte, my friends' voices came through the speaker, sounding concerned and relieved.
"Lena, we're just so glad you finally know the truth," Sophia said, her tone sincere. "We've always known that Marcelo was never good enough for you, but your love for him just blinded you to it all."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I can't believe I was so stupid, so blindly devoted to him. All the signs were there, and I just chose to ignore them." I paused, feeling a familiar ache in my chest. "My heart is still in pieces, you know?"
"I’m really sorry, babe," Yvonne chimed in, her voice gentle. "But you're not weak, okay? You're stronger than you know, and you've finally taken the first step to becoming free of that man."
I gave a stiff nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "You're right. I'm not going to let them keep me down any longer."
We laughed and joked till the call ended.
As the evening wore on, I got myself busy in the kitchen, fixing up a dinner of grilled chicken, roasted potatoes, and a tangy, homemade sauce. Cooking always distracted me and it was a great feeling.
Just as I was pouring myself another steaming mug of my favorite latte, my mom's face appeared on the video call. "Mija, how are you holding up?" she asked, her brows drawn together with concern.
I offered her a reassuring smile. "I'm doing better, Mama. This house is so peaceful, and I'm glad I chose it. I think I'm going to spend my time exploring the city later tonight. There's just something about this place that feels... liberating, you know?"
Mom nodded, though I could see the worry in her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay being there by yourself?"
I chuckled, taking a sip of my latte. "I'm a big girl, Mama. I can handle it. Besides, I need this time to myself, to clear my head and figure out what's next."
She sighed. "Okay, sweetie. But please be careful. And there's something else. Your dad's health is declining, and with the look of things, he might not survive it. Wouldn't you come home?"
I felt guilty, but I knew I couldn't go back right now. "I'll return when I can, Mom. But for now, I need to focus on myself. I promise I'll stay in touch."
A message from Marcelo popped up on the screen then.
"Mama, I'm going to have to call you back," I said, my tone clipped. "Marcelo is trying to reach me, and I wanna see what he has to say."
Mom nodded in understanding and the call ended.
I took a deep breath and opened Marcelo's message. To my surprise, it was a series of photos – photos of a wedding dress that was definitely not my style.
I couldn't believe my eyes as I read the text. Along with the pictures of the wedding dress, he had added a message that made my blood boil.
"I let Francine pick it out because she has a higher taste than yours," he wrote.
I felt disgusted. How dare he? He had the nerve to insult me, to imply that Francine was somehow better than me. I was furious. So I was going to wear what Francine chose?
But I didn't let my anger get the best of me. Instead, I calmly read the rest of his message. He told me that the fitting was tomorrow and that I should be at the bridal shop at a certain time. He even sent me the address.
"I would have come to pick you up tomorrow," he wrote, "but I'm going to be engaged with business."
Yeah, right. I knew exactly what kind of "business" he was engaged in. More like engaged with Francine.
"How about having the wedding in seven days instead of twenty-one days from now?" he asked.
I typed back a response, as quickly as I could. "Anything you want," I wrote. "The faster I get married to the man of my dreams, the better."
Pfft. He used to be the man of my dreams but not anymore.
He sent me a heart emoji and a message that made my skin crawl. "I can't wait to make you my wife," he wrote.
I knew deep down that he was trying to rush the whole wedding because he didn’t want me to get my memories back fully.
Just as I was about to respond to his message, the door burst open and a bleeding man stumbled in. He was holding his lower abdomen, and he looked like he was in pain.
I screamed at the top of my voice as he passed out on the floor. My heart was beating fast, and my mind was spinning. What was happening?
第7章
LENA’S POV
My legs felt like lead as I stared down at the unconscious man lying on my living room floor. Who the hell was he, and how did he find his way here? I had to find out.
Cautiously, I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife I could find, holding it tightly in my trembling hand. I needed to protect myself, just in case this stranger posed a threat.
With the knife gripped firmly, I slowly approached the man again, peering out the front window as I went.
The street outside was dark and deserted, apart from an expensive black convertible parked haphazardly at the curb. Was that his car? Did he come here for a reason? My stomach twisted with unease as I shut the door quickly.
With all my strength, I dragged him across the floor, trying not to hurt him further. As I pulled him, I noticed that he was bleeding profusely, but I checked his breathing closely, relieved to find that he was still alive.
I drew in a sharp breath and bent down beside the man, trying to get a better look at him.
He was dressed in a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame and a pair of dark slacks. His tattoos on his arms were visible, and a silver earring glinted in his ear. His luscious dark hair fell over his forehead, framing his chiseled features. I couldn't help but notice how breathtakingly handsome he was, even in his current state.
I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the knife and setting it aside. Panic set in as I wondered what to do with him.
I was in a new city, with no connections, and I had no idea what to do.Should I call the police? What if he died?
But what if they didn't believe me? What if they thought I had something to do with this? My mind raced with panicked thoughts.
I leaned in closer and noticed the gaping wound in his abdomen. Blood was still seeping from it, staining the fabric of his shirt.
Carefully, I reached out and pressed my hand against it, trying to stop the flow. I could feel his warm skin beneath my fingertips, and my heart had skipped a beat. Focus, Lena, I told myself sternly.
I searched around for a first aid kit before finally locating one in the bathroom cabinet. Hurrying back to the living room, I knelt beside the man and began cutting away his shirt with a small pair of scissors.
My eyes popped out at the sight of his toned muscular chest. Was he a movie star or top magazine model ? I tried to focus, reminding myself that I needed to help him.
As I examined his wound, I realized that he had been shot. I quickly got to work, trying to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. My hands shook as I worked, but I tried to stay calm.
When I was done, I applied a thick, sterile dressing, wrapping it tightly around his middle. Just as I was about to check his pulse again, his eyes suddenly fluttered opened. I gasped as I stared into the most piercing crystal blue eyes I had ever seen. They were sexy, intense, and seemed to bore into my soul.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, the only sound being his uneasy breathing. I felt like I was drowning in those eyes, unable to look away.
He tried to sit up with much difficulty. "Now who the hell are you?" He demanded, his voice low and rough.
I scowled at him. "I could ask you the same question. You just barged into my house and passed out disrespectfully," I pointed out.
He raised an eyebrow. "What the heck?" he said. "You're the stranger here obviously."
"How about you stop being rude and say thank you?" I suggested. "You're not dead right now because I saved your life. I could have just left you to die on the floor."
He frowned, glancing down at the bandage on his abdomen for the first time. "What the fuck?" he muttered as a look of surprise crossed his face.
Turning his attention back to me, he said, "Alright, fine. Thank you for not letting me bleed out on your floor." He paused, then added, "Now why don't you complete the help and help me get on my feet?"
I groaned inwardly and cautiously set the knife aside and moved closer to him. "Alright, come on then. But just so you know, you're quite heavy."
With some effort, I managed to get him to his feet, but I immediately felt unsteady. He was so much taller than me that he ended up towering over me. I tripped under his weight and he quickly reached out to steady me, his arms wrapping around my waist.
第8章
LENA’S POV
I caught a whiff of his musky scent, and for a moment, I was entranced. But then I snapped out of it, pulling away from him quickly.
He cleared his throat, looking at me with a serious expression. "Okay, can you explain your mission in my house?" he asked. "Were you sent to spy on me or kill me?"
I looked at him weirdly like he suddenly had horns grown on his head. "Your house? Excuse me, but this is my house. I live here, and I paid for it fair and square." I gestured towards the room. "This is an Airbnb, and I'm the one who's renting it for the next two weeks."
He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. "An Airbnb? That's funny, because I don't recall putting this place up for rent."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Well, someone did. And I paid good money for it, so it's mine for the next two weeks, whether you like it or not."
He shrugged, wincing slightly. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that this is my house. I don't know how you managed to book it through Airbnb, but it's not yours."
"Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not leaving," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
He narrowed his eyes, studying me intently. "You know, you're awfully stubborn for someone who's trespassing in my house."
"And you're awfully rude for someone who just barged into my rented place and passed out on the floor. Are you a criminal? Why were you bleeding?"
“That’s none of your business sweetheart,”
My heart raced as I watched in horror as a gun suddenly slid out of the stranger's back pocket. I quickly grabbed the knife lying on the floor.
"Oh my God," I breathed, my eyes wide with fear. "You're armed?"
He glanced down at the gun, then back up at me. "Yeah, I am," he said calmly. "Problem?"
I swallowed hard, my hands all shaky as I held the knife in front of me. "I'm also armed," I said, trying to sound confident. "And I'm not afraid to use this."
He raised a brow, looking a bit amused. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But let's be real here, sweetheart. One cock of this gun, and your brains would be all over the floor before you could even raise that little knife of yours."
I felt a chill run down my body at his words, and I couldn't help but notice the way his physique dwarfed my own.
Still, I refused to back down. "Excuse me?" I scoffed. "So you're admitting that you're a criminal then? Were you sent here by Francine or Marcelo?"
He shot me a scowl."Who the heck is Marcelo or Francine?" He shook his head, then quickly slid the gun back into his pocket. "Look, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the moment I opened my eyes, not wasted time chatting with you."
I backed away from him."So what, you're just here to rob me or something?"
He let out a frustrated sigh and walked over to the fridge, pulling it open. "No, I'm not here to rob you. In fact, I'm just here to lay low for a while." He grabbed a can of my favorite mojito and cracked it open, taking a long sip.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Lay low? And you think you can just barge in here and make yourself at home? Besides, I did not give you permission to drink that."
He shrugged, taking another sip of the drink. "Well, one of us has to leave, and it sure as hell ain't gonna be me." He gestured around the room with the can. "This is my place, after all. Also, show me the site where you found this house for sale,"
Reluctantly, I pulled out my phone and showed him the Airbnb listing for the property. He squinted at the screen with a frown.
"Huh, that's interesting," he murmured. "It must have been my younger sister who put this place up for rent.
I guess the little brat thought she could make a quick buck while I was out of town."
I blinked, caught off guard by his casual admission. "Well anyway I’m calling the police. I’m not staying with a stranger."
He let out a humorless chuckle. "Good luck with that, sweetheart. I doubt they'll be too eager to help you out."
I was starting to get really frustrated now. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He fixed me with a serious look. "It means that the cops aren't exactly on my side. And if you try to involve them, well, let's just say it might not end well for you."
第9章
LENA’S POV
I swallowed hard, my heart beating loudly in my chest. "Are you...are you threatening me?"
He shook his head, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "Not at all, sweetheart. I'm just trying to be realistic here. "
My phone beeped suddenly, making me forget the tension in the room for a second. I looked down to see a message from Francine, with a photo attached. My heart fell as I saw the picture of an infinity custom-made bracelet, worth $50,000. The text accompanying the photo made me more irritated.
"Help me thank your man for this gorgeous bridesmaids gift," Francine wrote.
Marcelo was unbelievable. He had gotten a gift for Francine, the bridesmaid, and not the actual bride herself? It was a slap to my face.
Before I could process my thoughts, the stranger in front of me suddenly snapped his fingers in my face, jolting me back to reality.
"Hey, what's with the sour face?" he asked in his deep smooth voice. "Did somebody die?"
I sighed deeply. "Listen, Mr. Blue Eyes," I started to say, but he interrupted me.
"My name is Miguel," he corrected. "Juan Miguel, to be precise. And what's your name?"
I looked at him calmly, trying to compose myself. "Lena,"
Juan Miguel rose to his feet, abruptly. "Okay Lena, guess we're going to be new housemates now. Oh and believe me, I would have kicked your ass out in a heartbeat if it wasn't for the fact that you took care of my injury."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there in surprise.
I forced myself to finish up my meal, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in my stomach. I had been looking forward to exploring the city, but now it seemed like that plan was ruined. This guy, Juan Miguel, had somehow taken over my rental house, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that he was trouble.
I opened the door to my room, expecting to find some peace and quiet, but instead, I was greeted by the sound of running water. I rushed into the bathroom, thinking that I had left the shower on, but what I saw made my heart skip a beat.
Juan Miguel was standing in the shower, water cascading down his perfect body. I screamed as our eyes met and I quickly slammed the door shut, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
A moment later, I heard the sound of the water turning off, followed by the soft pad of bare feet on the tile floor. I held my breath as the door opened, and there stood Juan Miguel, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.
"Well, well, someone's a little jumpy," he said, his voice low and smooth.
I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, and I averted my gaze to the painting on the walls instead.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" I managed.
He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Your room? Sweetheart, there are two rooms in this house, and I prefer the bigger one."
"But this is my room," I protested. "All of my things are here!"
He shrugged. "Tough luck, Lena. You get the smaller room."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. What was the point? It was clear that this man had no intention of respecting my boundaries or my privacy.
With a resigned sigh, I turned and made my way to the other room.This was not how I had envisioned my Airbnb stay at all.
I must have dozed off at some point, because the sound of gunshots jolted me awake, my heart pounding in my chest. I checked the time and saw that it was 11:15 pm. Fearfully, I stepped out of the room, grabbing a baseball bat from the wardrobe for protection.
As I made my way to the front porch, I gasped in shock at what I saw. Two dead bodies lay on the porch, and Juan Miguel was standing there, casually cleaning his gun. My mouth dropped open as I stared at him in horror.
"Oh my God what the hell did you do?!" I let out a gasp.
“I took care of a little problem.” He answered.
“A problem? You..you killed them?" I stammered, my heart still beating wildly.
He nodded and clicked his tongue. "Yeah, I did. They were causing me some trouble, so I had to take care of it."
"Are you part of the mafia?" I blurted out.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Congratulations, it took you long enough to figure it out," he said.
Of course he had to be! Why didn’t I think of that earlier?
"How about you help me dispose of these bodies?" he asked in a casual tone, as if he was asking me to pass the salt.
第10章
LENA’S POV
I shook my head vehemently. "No way, I'm not helping you cover up a murder," I said. “Are you out of your mind?”
Juan Miguel chuckled, his expression amused. "Oh, you're an innocent one, aren't you, Lena?"
Without a word, he brought his hand up to his ear, pressing what I assumed was a hidden earpiece. "Yeah, it's me," he said, his voice low and calm. "I need you to come take care of something at the house." He paused, listening to the response on the other end. "Yeah, those bastards tracked me down. I had to take care of them first." Another pause. "Just get here as soon as you can."
He ended the call and turned his attention back to me, his gaze piercing. "My men will be here shortly to take care of the bodies,"
"Your men? So this is all just part of your criminal operation, isn't it? Are you like a mafia boss or something?"
He gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Hey, I do what I have to do to survive, sweetheart. Those guys were trying to kill me, so I took them out first."
I stared at him all over. "But now you've invaded my house, and I'm not going to have any peace of mind here, am I? What if I get killed in the process?"
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Then you've got a lot to learn about being strong enough to protect yourself," he said, his tone almost patronizing. "But don't worry, I won't let you die on my watch."
So there is a possibility I could get killed here? I came here running away from my own trauma back at home. Was I really safe, even with Juan Miguel's supposed protection?
As he turned to head back inside, he paused and looked back at me, his expression serious. "Just remember, don’t stick your nose where it doesn't belong, and don't complicate things for me while I'm here. Understood?"
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "Understood," I responded in a way that sounded more like a squeak.
He nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face, and then he disappeared inside, leaving me alone with the two lifeless bodies on the porch.
I stood there, frozen in place wondering what the hell had I gotten myself into. I had thought that renting this Airbnb would be a peaceful, relaxing getaway, but instead, I found myself in the middle of some kind of criminal enterprise, with a dangerous man like Juan Miguel at the center of it all. I was gonna have him googled. Maybe something would come up if I did a proper search.
Or maybe I should just pack up my things and go back home.
The sound of an approaching car pulled me from my thoughts, and I watched warily as two men in dark suits approached the porch. Without a word, they stepped around the bodies, carefully lifting them and carrying them away, as if this was a routine task for them.
I shuddered, the reality of the situation sinking in. These were the kinds of people that Juan Miguel associated with, the kind of ruthless individuals who could dispose of bodies without a second thought.
The next afternoon, my phone started ringing incessantly while I was trying to watch one of my favorite Chinese dramas. I glanced down at the caller ID and rolled my eyes because it was Marcelo.
"Lena, what the hell?" Marcelo's voice boomed immediately I picked it up, clearly agitated. "Why didn't you show up for your bridal fitting today? Weren't you aware of the date?"
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool. "Yes, Marcelo, I was aware of the date," I responded calmly. "But I never told you I was going to attend."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and I could practically feel the tension radiating through the phone. "But Francine picked out the dress. Don’t you want to make sure it fits?"
I let out a soft sigh. "Marcelo, if Francine picked the dress, then I'm sure she knows what will fit me best. There's no need for a fitting cause I'm sure the dress is already perfect."
"Okay, well, how about you come by the shop and pick it up then? The wedding is in a few days, and we need to make sure everything is ready to go."
I chewed on my lower lip, contemplating my response. "Actually, could you just have the shop send the dress to my father's house? That would be easier for me."
His voice turned suspicious. "I was at your father's house earlier this morning, and your mom said you had stepped out for a while. Where the hell are you, anyway?."