01 | the untouchable queen

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O N E | the untouchable queen-

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O N E | the untouchable queen-

C A P R I C E

I was addicted to coffee.

They said caffeine was a drug. Everything should be in moderation. And indulgence would lead to intoxication. I begged to differ.

Betrayal. Unrequited love. Broken heart.

These were the things to truly watch out for. Because in this world, there's nothing worse than being alive while wishing you were dead.

So despite being on my fourth cup, I ordered another one. If I had known that a nightmare would wake me up, I would have doubled my espresso shots yesterday. I glanced at the window, seeing the sun rising from the other side of the world.

Mierda. I would rather not sleep if it meant no more nightmares.

My coffee arrived and I took a leisure sip from it, savoring the dash of cinnamon. I gulped some more hoping it could obliterate the image of my bloodied hands. I don't understand why I had persistent nightmares. Once in a while would be acceptable. But no, it happened every damn day.

"SM Group is really something else, huh?"

The woman's voice was shrill as she entered the coffee shop, carrying the conversation to my ears. She peeped at the front of the line, sneered as she realized there were three people before her.

"Rosaria Del Fuego had long established her reputation as an iron lady." The man who trailed after spoke in an equally gaudy voice. "But it seems the granddaughter is following in her footsteps too."

My grip on the cup trembled.

"The Salvadors would have never sold their shares. Crafty woman." The woman shifted forward, adjusting her Louis Vuitton handbag with the 'L' tilting crookedly. "Wonder what she looks like."

"It's been eight years since the fire, hasn't it? Maybe her face is deformed?" The man wondered aloud, followed by a boisterous laugh.

I felt like there was a black hole in my stomach. I had long known that Abuela had a terrifying reputation.

The Salvadors had faced bankruptcy. It was only right for them to sell their shares and not lose face. But their ruin had not been an accident. It had been a series of cleverly crafted events that led them to have no clients for months.

At that time, I had shrugged it off. In business, it's to kill or be killed.

But the whirling pit of shame inside of me was unexpected. Enrico Salvador's stricken face haunted me. His shaky voice echoed in my mind. 'This company is my father's life. This will kill him!'

If his father died, was that my fault?

No, I shouldn't feel this. I had made my grandmother proud. That was what mattered.

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