"It's so cold," I whispered in her ear, my lips barely touching her skin as the words escaped.Sweat ran down my back, and the room felt too big.The air between us felt thick and heavy. He didn't move. He didn't smile. It was as if I were talking to myself, my voice swallowed by the silence. All I felt was his heavy breath spilling over my lips, warm and steady, hovering just before our mouths could touch.The dark-haired man, seven feet tall with ocean-colored eyes, was rough when he grabbed my neck, his fingers firm and unapologetic. With his other hand, he ripped off my pink bra in one swift motion. The snap echoed louder in my head than it should have.A soft gasp escaped my lips before I could stop him. My body betrayed me, responding before my mind could catch up. It hurt a little—his grip, his strength—but pleasure coursed through my veins anyway, hot and fuzzy.My knees went weak. I hated how prepared I felt, how my skin burned where he touched me. Whatever was coming next, my

Raisem's point of viewLuck had never been on my side. Not once, never.From the day I was born, people whispered that I was cursed. They said I had swallowed my mother, that my birth had caused her death. I never saw her face, never heard her voice, never felt her arms around me. Only stories, guilt, and silence that devoured me for years.The day after I was born, my father died in a car accident.And just like that, I was left alone. Except for my grandmother. She was the only one who stayed. The only one who looked at me and didn't see death following in my footsteps.She raised me with trembling hands and great strength, teaching me how to survive when the world clearly didn't want me to.He was by my side as I built my empire from nothing. He saw me turn pain into ambition, grief into passion. Now, I owned the world's largest company, Mavo Groups. My name moved the markets. My decisions shaped the future. Yet, bad luck never left me. It clung to me like a shadow, like a shield

«Ara, tienes que levantarte, Ara, levántate ya».La voz seguía gritándome al oído tras la caída desde la barandilla, aguda y desesperada, aferrándose a mí incluso cuando todo se volvía borroso.Antes de que pudiera comprender del todo lo que estaba pasando, ambos nos estrellamos contra el agua.El impacto fue brutal.El frío me azotó la piel, dejándome sin aliento mientras la piscina nos tragaba por completo, y por un segundo, mi mente se quedó completamente en blanco.Mi cuerpo se hundió, arrastrado por la ropa empapada y pesada, con los oídos resonando en un sordo silencio submarino.La suerte estaba realmente de nuestro lado. Caímos en la piscina de fisioterapia. De no ser así, habría habido cráneos destrozados y sesos salpicados por todas partes. El pensamiento se coló en mi mente incluso mientras el pánico luchaba por hacerse un hueco en mi pecho.Mi ángel de la guarda estaba realmente trabajando, y no se descuidó.Por encima del agua, resonaban gritos ahogados. Siluetas se acerc

“Morón, idiota, tonto, zoquete y ser demoníaco ignorante maniático.”Grité las palabras dentro de mi pecho, mordiéndolas con fuerza mientras miraba su cuerpo tirado en el suelo. Mis manos temblaban ligeramente, no por miedo, sino por la adrenalina que aún corría por mis venas. El sabor de la amargura pesaba sobre mi lengua. Incluso así, herido, humillado, todavía parecía intocable.Sus hombres entraron apresuradamente antes de que pudiera moverme. Manos bruscas agarraron mis brazos, sujetándome como si no fuera más que una molestia. No luché contra ellos. Solo observé.Observé cómo se levantaba lentamente, pasando los dedos sobre sus labios.Ahora estaban hinchados, ligeramente partidos en la comisura. La vista me llenó de una oscura y culpable satisfacción. Por una vez, él también llevaba la marca del dolor.Sonreí para mis adentros.“Preparen el helicóptero.” Su voz era tranquila, distante, como si nada hubiera pasado. Enderezó su traje con una facilidad practicada y se alejó sin de

"What's the condition?" he asked.Her voice was firm, almost nonchalant, as if she were asking about the weather. We stood facing each other, the space between us heavy and tense, filled with words yet to be spoken.The wind brushed past, cool against my skin, but my chest felt hot, tense, and aching. My hands were clasped in front of me, my fingers twisting, my nails digging into my skin as if I needed the pain to keep me steady.—The child we're going to have, can I be in his life for at least a few years until he's old enough to be without a mother? —I said gently.The words came out slowly, carefully, fragile. I didn't raise my head as I spoke. I was afraid—afraid of what I would see in their eyes, afraid of rejection, afraid that saying it aloud would make it impossible to take it back. My voice trembled despite my effort to remain calm."Why?" he asked calmly, searching my eyes for answers.Finally, I looked up. His gaze was sharp, unreadable, as if he were dissecting every breat