Emilia’s POV

I stand frozen in the kitchen, my heart racing as Valeria’s footsteps retreat. That’s the first time she’s reacted to me in a way that wasn’t pure anger or distrust. Her red face flashes in my mind, and I can’t help but chuckle softly.

With a lightness in my step, I skip back to my room, shutting the door behind me with a little more enthusiasm than usual. I collapse onto my bed, hugging my pillow tightly, my thoughts spinning.

Why am I feeling like this? I think of her flushed cheeks, the way she couldn’t look at me, the tension that hung in the air between us. My feelings for her are growing, and it’s happening so quickly that it scares me.

But then my mind shifts to her reaction—how startled she was when she saw me. I wonder, has she never been with a woman before?

And then I remember Ramon. The way she mentioned him, how casual it seemed when she said she’d stop by his place. My chest tightens as the thought forms: Is she dating him?

And Cesar. Who is he? Is he her child? Her little brother? The question twists in my mind, and suddenly, my excitement fades. I don’t know anything about her—not really.

---

The next morning, I set out to change that.

I find Adrien in the garden, pruning a set of rose bushes. He looks up as I approach, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Miss Emilia,” he greets with a small smile.

“Adrien,” I begin, folding my arms. “Do you know anyone trustworthy in the neighborhood Valeria is from?”

He frowns slightly, clearly surprised by the question, but after a moment, he nods. “I have a cousin there. His name’s Lucas. He’s a good man.”

“Do you trust him?”

Adrien’s answer is firm. “I do.”

I pull a phone from my pocket, handing it to him along with an envelope of money. “I need you to contact him. Tell him to find a boy named Cesar—he used to hang around with Valeria. Tell Lucas to give this phone to Cesar and make sure the boy has everything he needs. Food, clothes, anything—but tell him to keep it quiet. No one can know.”

Adrien’s brows knit together as he processes my request. “Understood,” he says after a moment. “I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you,” I say softly, relief washing over me.

---

Later in the afternoon, Adrien approaches me while I’m reviewing some photos in my studio. He stands by the door, his expression calm but purposeful.

“It’s done,” he says. “Lucas found the boy. He gave him the phone and the money, and he’s staying with him for now to make sure he’s safe.”

I exhale, a weight lifting off my shoulders. “Thank you, Adrien. Truly.”

He nods once before stepping away, leaving me with my thoughts. My chest feels lighter knowing Cesar is being looked after, but there’s still so much I don’t know. So much I still need to figure out.

Valeria’s POV

I sit on the edge of the bed, gripping the pocketknife Emilia gave me, flipping it open and closed. It’s so polished and shiny, the kind of knife that someone like her would give—a symbol of trust, she said. My old one, covered in rust and years of wear, was a symbol of survival.

I trace the edge of the blade with my thumb, lost in thought, my mind replaying last night over and over again. I shouldn’t have left my room. I shouldn’t have let my guard down.

My thoughts drift elsewhere, back to last night. I should never have left my room. The embarrassment burns in my chest every time I think of her standing there, so casual, so unaffected. I was the one who couldn’t handle it. I was the one who turned red and ran.

A knock at the door jolts me. My heart races as I shove the knife under my pillow.

“Come in,” I mutter, trying to steady my voice.

The door creaks open, and there she is. Emilia steps inside, her expression soft, tentative, like she’s walking on eggshells.

I tense immediately, the walls around me going up. I prepare to tell her to leave, to get out before I have to endure another awkward exchange. But then she flips her phone around, and my heart stops.

The screen lights up, and there he is.

“Val?? Is it really you?” César’s voice trembles with excitement.

I forget everything—my pain, my pride, even Emilia standing right there. I try to get out of bed too fast, a sharp stab of pain stopping me in my tracks. I grab the phone from Emilia, and before I know it, her hand wraps around my forearm, steadying me. For once, I let her.

“César?” My voice cracks as I stare at his tear-streaked face on the screen. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

César bursts into tears, his sobs loud and unrestrained. “Val, I thought you were dead. I thought they got you.”

A shaky laugh escapes me, and tears blur my vision. “Death is scared of me, remember? You know that, kid. Are you okay? Tell me the truth—when was the last time you ate?”

He sniffles, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I ate so much, Val. The man you sent, he brought me food. Real food. I couldn’t finish it all.”

My smile falters, but I force it to stay in place. “Good,” I say softly. “That’s good, César. You stay out of trouble, okay? Don’t let anyone know where you are. I’ll come find you soon.”

César’s face crumples again. “But where are you? Can I come to you?”

“No, kid,” I say firmly, my voice breaking just a little. “It’s not safe. Just stay put. Stay safe. I’ll figure something out.”

He nods, wiping his eyes again. “Promise me, Val. Promise you’ll come back.”

I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. “I promise,” I whisper.

Emilia stiffens beside me, but I ignore her, focusing on César’s face for one last moment before ending the call.

The call ends, and suddenly the room feels too quiet. I lower the phone slowly, my hand trembling. My chest feels tight, and for a moment, I forget Emilia is still standing there, her arm still lightly touching mine.

When I finally notice, I pull away sharply, my defenses snapping back into place. “What’s the meaning of this?” I demand, my voice cold. “How? Did you send someone to him? Are you trying to draw attention to César? Is this your way of making me submit to you?”

Emilia’s face falls. Her soft eyes, full of something I can’t name, flicker with hurt.

“I’m trying to give you peace of mind,” she says, her voice gentle but steady. “I didn’t send anyone after him. I asked Adrien—Lucia’s husband—for help. You trust Lucia, don’t you?”

Her words catch me off guard, and my anger falters. I nod slowly, my walls cracking ever so slightly.

“Adrien’s cousin is with him,” she continues. “He’ll make sure César has everything he needs without drawing attention. I thought... I thought this would help you feel safer. I’m sorry for acting on my own.”

Her tone is so sincere, it makes my chest tighten even more.

Before I can respond, she turns to leave.

“Thank you,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper.

She stops in her tracks, her shoulders rising and falling with a deep sigh. Without turning back, she steps out of the room, leaving me alone with a phone still warm in my hands and a heart more conflicted than ever

Lucia steps into the room after Emilia leaves, her expression warm and knowing. She carries the same steady presence that always seems to calm me, even when I don’t want it to.

“Did you like your surprise?” she asks, her voice soft but teasing.

I narrow my eyes at her, suspicion creeping in. “You knew?”

“Of course,” she replies with a small laugh. “Adrien told me what Miss Emilia was up to.”

I shake my head, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t understand. Why is she doing all of this?”

Lucia pauses, her gaze thoughtful as she pulls the chair closer to my bedside and sits. She takes a moment before answering, as if carefully choosing her words.

“I can’t say Miss Emilia was always like this,” she begins. “Before the incident, she was in her own world. She partied every night, brought home a different girl every time…”

My head snaps toward her at that revelation, my brows furrowing. “She brought girls home?”

I blink, her words swirling in my mind. My thoughts drift to Emilia’s question the other night—“Is this your first time seeing a woman naked?”—and heat creeps up my neck at the memory.

Lucia’s lips twitch, fighting the smile threatening to appear. But then her expression softens into something more serious. “Yes. But after the incident... she’s different. She seems more empathetic, more aware of the world around her.”

Lucia leans forward slightly, her tone softening further. “Val, I know you don’t trust her. Maybe you think she’s playing some game to keep herself entertained. But you keep forgetting—she went through something terrible, and you pulled her out of it.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Lucia holds up a hand to stop me.

“Maybe she’s trying to connect with you because she feels lonely in this world she lives in. Maybe she can’t cope with everything, and she thinks you’re the only one who can understand her. I think Miss Emilia genuinely cares about you, Valeria.”

I shift uncomfortably, her words hitting closer to home than I’d like.

Lucia’s gaze grows softer. “She hasn’t talked to anyone about what happened to her. Not to her father, not to her friends. She’s all alone in this house, Val. Please... go easy on her.”

I lower my gaze, guilt creeping into my chest. I don’t know what to say.

The truth is, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for what she’s done for César, for keeping him safe. And, though I hate to admit it, I’m starting to believe she didn’t sell me out. But that doesn’t change the fact that this house, this life she’s trying to pull me into, is dangerous.

“She doesn’t understand,” I mutter finally, my voice low. “She’s keeping a ticking bomb in her house, and Dominic can trigger it any time he wants.”

Lucia sighs, standing and placing a hand gently on my shoulder. “Maybe she does understand more than you think.”

I look away, unable to respond, as her words linger in the air long after she’s gone

Emilia’s POV

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and sadness. Nothing I do seems to make Val open up to me. No matter how hard I try, her walls remain impenetrable. Maybe I’m doing too much. Maybe it’s better to leave her alone—to make sure she’s safe in the house without interfering or checking on her. Maybe that’s for the best.

A knock on my door pulls me out of my thoughts.

“No, Dani!” I call out, annoyance bubbling in my voice. She’s seriously not taking no for an answer tonight.

Another knock. This time, anger surges through me.

“Dani, I told you to go home! I don’t want to have se—” The word gets stuck in my throat as I swing the door open and come face-to-face with Valeria.

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at my outburst, and then furrow as if she’s trying to piece something together.

“Is this a bad time?” she asks softly, her voice tentative.

“No!” I practically scream, making her flinch. I curse myself, lowering my voice quickly. “No, I mean... come in.”

I step aside, giving her space to enter, and mentally scold myself for making a fool out of myself—again.

“What’s wrong? Do you need anything?” I ask, trying to sound casual, though my eagerness betrays me.

Her eyes dart quickly over my body, as if checking to make sure I’m fully dressed. The action makes me crack a small smile, though I doubt she meant it in the way I wished.

“I just came to return this,” she says, holding out the phone I gave her.

“No,” I shake my head, my smile fading as I push her hand back gently. “This is yours, so you can talk to César anytime you want.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up, and my chest swells at the sight. It’s the first real, positive reaction I’ve gotten from her.

“Yes, really.”

I sit down on the edge of my bed, trying to stay calm, but her gaze doesn’t leave me. She’s watching me closely, her body tense, like she’s bracing herself for something. I don’t care. Just having this conversation with her feels like progress, and I’ll take whatever I can get.

“I also wanted to thank you,” she says, her voice softer now. “I acted out of concern for César earlier... It’s just that...” She pauses, her eyes dropping to the phone in her hand. “Since his parents passed away, he doesn’t have anyone else.”

So he’s not her child, nor her brother. I stay silent, giving her space to continue if she wants to, but she shifts uncomfortably, as if the admission cost her too much already.

“Well, I guess that’s all then,” she says abruptly, turning toward the door.

No. I don’t want her to go. My heart screams for her to stay, but my lips remain pressed together.

I stand quickly, following her to the door, intending to walk her out. But just as I reach her, she stops and turns back to face me.

We’re too close—so close I can feel the faint warmth of her presence. My breath hitches, my chest tightening as if all the air in the room has been sucked out.

“One more thing,” she says, her voice low.

“W...what?” I stammer, struggling to find my voice under her intense gaze.

“Are you... okay?” she asks, and for a fleeting moment, I see a hint of worry in her eyes.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. My mind races, but nothing coherent forms. She waits, scanning my face for an answer, but when I don’t give her one, her eyebrows furrow.

Her walls go back up in an instant.

“Never mind,” she mutters, stepping back. “You probably don’t need me asking you that.”

She turns toward the door, her tone colder now, and something inside me snaps.

“No,” I blurt out, moving quickly to block the doorway with my body.

She freezes, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looks at me. “What are you doing?”

“I...” I falter, unsure of what to say. But the thought of her walking away—of her shutting me out again—is unbearable.

“Please,” I say finally, my voice quieter now. “Don’t go.”