Chapter 2: The Choice

Alina’s fingers trembled as she clutched the damning photographs, her mind spiraling into chaos. The weight of the truth pressed down on her chest, suffocating. Rafael—the man she had loved more than life itself—was a liar. A murderer.

And she had been blind.

Damian’s steady gaze was locked onto hers, waiting. He had always been the protective older brother, the one who had warned her not to trust so easily. And now, his worst fears had become her reality.

Another knock, harder this time.

“Alina.” Rafael’s voice was softer now, coaxing, but beneath the calm was an edge of something else. “I know your brother has filled your head with lies. Open the door, amor. Let’s talk.”

The way he still called her that—amor—felt like a blade twisting in her ribs. How many times had he whispered it with deceit on his lips? How many nights had he held her, knowing she was sleeping next to a monster?

She turned back to Damian, her breath uneven. “If I leave now… he’ll know. He’ll hunt me down.”

Damian’s jaw tightened. “Then you need to be smart about it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We don’t have time, Alina. I have a car waiting outside. But once you walk away from him, there’s no turning back.”

No turning back.

Alina closed her eyes for a brief moment, drowning in memories. The first time Rafael had kissed her under the moonlit sky. The way he had held her the night her father died, promising to protect her. The whispered dreams of a future together.

All lies.

Something inside her hardened. Love had made her blind, but it wouldn’t make her weak.

She shoved the photographs into the pocket of her dress and straightened, her decision made. “I need a distraction.”

Damian nodded. “I have men outside. They can cause a scene, enough for you to slip away.”

She hesitated for only a second before moving toward the window, pulling back the velvet curtain just enough to see the long driveway below. There were cars, security stationed at every exit. Rafael had always been cautious, but now she saw it for what it really was—control.

“I need my passport,” she whispered.

Damian exhaled sharply. “Where is it?”

“In our bedroom.” The thought of stepping back into that space, the space they had shared as husband and wife, made her sick. But she had no choice. If she wanted to escape, she needed to do it right.

Damian hesitated, but then nodded. “Then we move fast.”

The next moments passed in a blur.

Damian unlocked the door and slipped into the hallway first, scanning for guards. The mansion was still alive with music and laughter from the ballroom, the party continuing as if nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong.

Alina forced her legs to move, walking quickly but calmly toward the grand staircase. She knew Rafael was still nearby—she could feel it in her bones. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she climbed the stairs, Damian close behind.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar. The familiar scent of Rafael’s cologne lingered in the air as she stepped inside.

Her passport was in the drawer of her vanity. She grabbed it, along with a small bag of essentials, before freezing at the sight of their wedding photo still standing on the dresser. Her fingers hovered over the frame.

Two years ago, she had stood in a white gown, believing she was marrying the love of her life. Now, she was running from him.

A creak outside the door made her stiffen.

Damian cursed under his breath. “We need to go. Now.”

She turned sharply, stuffing the passport into her bag and heading for the door—

Then everything shattered.

The door slammed open, and Rafael stood there, his dark eyes unreadable.

For the first time, she didn’t see her husband.

She saw her enemy.

“Going somewhere, mi amor?” His voice was calm, but his gaze flicked to the bag in her hand. He knew.

Alina’s breath hitched, but she didn’t falter. “Yes.”

Rafael’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?”

The air in the room became suffocating. Damian tensed beside her, his hand hovering near the gun hidden beneath his jacket. But Alina lifted her chin, steel in her spine.

“Anywhere you aren’t.”

A flicker of something passed through Rafael’s expression—hurt? Amusement? It was gone too quickly to tell. He stepped inside, blocking the doorway. “You think you can just walk away from me, Alina?”

A beat of silence.

Then she answered, her voice steady.

“I don’t think. I know.”

She moved before he could stop her, shoving past him with every ounce of strength she had. Damian was already reaching for his gun, but Alina didn’t wait. She ran.

She ran, knowing this was the beginning of a war.

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