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.

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!"

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?