REINA
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, so hard it was like sothing inside was twisting itself to pieces.
My saliva burned, too hot to swallow. My eyes stung as if filled with tiny shards of glass, making blinking impossible. Even breathing felt like a task I wasn’t built for.
I knew this feeling. I’d felt it before—the sa sick, hollow ache that had swallowed whole eleven years ago, the night my stepfather dropped at my aunt’s doorstep. The sa day my mother was laid to rest.
This feeling... This sa feeling that made feel like my world was about to co to an end
I knew this sick feeling too well. It felt like an old friend, crawling back under my skin.
Calestino.
Paolo’s best friend. His right arm. The last person who should ever see like this.
He stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, eyes wide—disbelief first, then fury, then sothing worse. Betrayal. I didn’t even have to look to know how we must’ve looked: sprawled naked across the dining table, Donico’s shirt half undone, his body blocking mine, his mouth still damp from where he’d been a heartbeat ago.
"Calestino—" Donico’s voice was low, dangerous. The kind of calm that only ca before a storm.
But Calestino didn’t move. He just stood there—frozen—his stare cutting between and Donico like he couldn’t decide whether to shout, cuss, or vomit.
I was still naked, still trembling in nothing but my heels, too petrified to even reach for my clothes scattered across the marble floor.
His throat bobbed once, twice, like he was trying to swallow his rage. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, words choking sowhere between disbelief and fury. His brows knitted so tightly it looked painful, irritation and shock wrestling for space on his face.
In that mont, my mind spiraled. I couldn’t help but replay everything—every reckless second that had led to this disaster. If Calestino was this shaken, this close to losing it, what would happen when Paolo found out? My husband. His best friend.
The thought made my stomach twist painfully. Calestino’s expression alone was enough to make my pulse hamr; he looked like a man who’d just stumbled upon a corpse—except the corpse was my marriage, still twitching, not quite dead yet. And now that he knew, it was only a matter of ti—seconds maybe—before the truth slithered its way to Paolo.
"Am I seeing things right now?" He scoffed, finally saying sothing after a long pause.
"What the fuck is this?!" he hissed again, softer this ti, almost like he didn’t want to believe it. "Tell I didn’t just see what I think I saw."
I tried to cover myself, grabbing for the edge of the tablecloth, but my hands were shaking too hard. My heart pounded in my throat, heat and sha twisting through like barbed wire.
Donico didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look embarrassed. He turned slightly, shielding from view, his voice smooth, sharp as glass.
"You didn’t see anything."
Calestino’s eyes burned. "The hell I didn’t! She’s... she’s Paolo’s—" He stopped himself, glancing at , face contorted with disgust and disbelief. "How could you, Reina? I... I thought you were decent, that’s why I introduced you to my best friend. I thought you were at least different from others, I didn’t know you were... You were..." Calestino couldn’t finish his words, he seed way too out of it.
I didn’t know you were a whore.
I finished his sentence in my mind, swallowing down nothing as my fingers curled into a tight ball at my side.
My stomach turned over. I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or run. Donico’s hand pressed against my thigh—a silent command to stay stil—and sohow, I obeyed.
Even though I was still wondering how he could be this cool right now.
"Close the door," Donico said quietly.
Calestino didn’t move. "You’re out of your mind, sir, if you think I’m..."
"Close the fucking door!" Donico repeated, voice dropping to a growl that made the room vibrate.
The air felt like it was about to explode.
I could see the battle in Calestino’s face—the man who used to look up to Donico, the man who’d sworn loyalty to Paolo, the impossible choice tearing him apart. His hand hovered near the handle, trembling.
When he finally slamd the door shut behind him, the sound echoed through the house like a warning bell.
And just like that, I knew.
Nothing—not the breakfast table, not this house, not our secrets—would ever be the sa again.
"The door is closed," he barked, throwing his hands up. "Now that the door is fucking closed, what now?"
Calestino’s voice tore through the air, rough and disbelieving. He stood there in the doorway, eyes still wide, mouth open, staring like he’d just walked into a nightmare he couldn’t unsee.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even think properly. My brain scread at to do sothing, but I was paralyzed—caught between sha and sheer horror.
"Calestino..." I managed to whisper, but my voice broke before I could even form a sentence.
His gaze snapped to mine, full of anger, disbelief, sothing close to disgust. "Reina... what the hell?" His voice shook, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth.
I wanted to sink through the floor.
Donico didn’t say a word at first. He just stood there, shoulders tense, watching Calestino with that quiet, simring rage that could crush a man.
Calestino finally looked away from —only for a second—but when he did, Donico stepped a little forward, voice hard as steel.
"Watch your tone, boy."
Calestino’s head whipped back toward him. "Watch my...? Are you kidding right now? You..."
"I said, watch your tone!"
That tone. I’d heard it before—cold, commanding, the kind that didn’t need to be raised to make grown n obey. But Calestino wasn’t one of Donico’s n. He was Paolo’s best friend. His right hand. The man who introduced to my husband. The man who changed my life around when I thought it was all over for .
And he’d just caught with Paolo’s father.
My stomach turned. I felt disgusted with myself!
Calestino pointed at , his hand shaking. "She’s your son’s wife, sir. What the actual hell have you done?"
"Don’t look at her," Donico snapped. "Not like that."
"She’s naked!" Calestino roared, his voice echoing through the dining room. "And you..."
I couldn’t bear it anymore. I stumbled backward, grabbing the nearest table cloth, then my gown from the floor. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. My vision blurred from tears.
Donico turned toward , voice lower now. "Reina..."
"No," I whispered, shaking my head violently. "No, don’t. Please."
He took a step closer, but I couldn’t stay there another second. My body was running before my mind caught up. I snatched the gown off the floor with trembling hands, yanked it over my body in a rush, and bolted for the door... ignoring the sound of both n shouting behind .
I didn’t even care who saw . The maids in the corridor froze as I ran past—so gasped, so looked away. My feet slapped against the marble floor, and I could feel my throat tightening, breath breaking.
By the ti I reached the other building—our house, Paolo’s and mine—my heart was hamring so hard I thought it would tear through my ribs. I barely registered grabbing my car keys off the counter before I was outside, fumbling to unlock the car.
The mont the door shut behind , I burst into tears.
My hands gripped the wheel, shaking so hard I could barely insert the key. "Oh God... oh God..." I kept muttering, over and over.
The gate opened slowly, like it knew I was running from sothing I couldn’t outrun. I pressed down on the accelerator and didn’t look back until I was past the walls.
Then I made the mistake of glancing into the rearview mirror.
Calestino.
He was storming out of the main building, still in shock, fury burning through every step. He threw open the door of his car and got in, as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
"Oh no," I whispered.
Tears blurred my vision as I sped down the private road. My mind kept replaying his face, his tone, the disgust in his eyes. He’s going to tell Paolo. Of course he would. He was loyal to him. He’d have no choice.
I am done for. Finished. My life is finished!
The road twisted ahead, sunlight blurring through my tears. My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone, desperate for sothing—soone—to hold on to. I dialed Tessa’s number with trembling fingers, the ringing slicing through my thoughts until her voice finally ca through.
I needed her, I needed my best friend right now.
"Hell... hello, Tess?"
"Reina? You sound... are you crying?" She said quickly, I could hear the sound of car honking from the other end.
Her voice almost broke again.
"I—" I swallowed, voice trembling. "Where are you right now?"
"I’m not ho," she said quickly. "Family ergency. My uncle’s sick, I’m heading to his place. Why, what’s wrong?"
I pressed my lips together, trying to steady my breathing. "Nothing. I just... needed to see you."
"Rei..." Her voice softened. "Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t sound good."
"I’m fine," I said quickly, cutting her off before I started sobbing again. "Just... I’ll talk to you later, okay? Take care of your uncle."
"Reina—"
I ended the call. I couldn’t. Not now.
The silence in the car felt heavier than before. All I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the hum of the tires on asphalt.
I didn’t know where else to go, so I drove toward my aunt’s place. She lived about forty minutes away, and the road felt endless, every traffic light mocking with its slow, steady glow.
My mind refused to stop spinning. What if Calestino told Paolo already? What if Paolo was on his way ho right now? My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.
I gripped the wheel harder, trying to focus on the road ahead. My vision was cloudy from tears. I could still see Calestino’s expression when he looked at ... like he’d seen sothing unforgivable.
Then my phone buzzed again.
I glanced down, heart skipping.
Paolo.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
The car swerved slightly, my foot slamming against the brake just before I collided with another vehicle. Horns blared around , but all I could hear was the sound of my own pulse, loud and fast.
I stared at the screen as the phone kept ringing.
Paolo’s na. Paolo’s photo. Paolo’s voice waiting on the other end.
He knew.
He had to know.
My fingers hovered over the screen, trembling, unsure whether to answer or throw the phone out the window. The world outside felt like it was spinning, just like my world.
The ringing finally stopped.
And the silence that followed felt like punishnt.
I pressed my forehead to the steering wheel, shaking. My chest ached. My hands were cold.
"What have I done?" I whispered, my shoulders shaking as I broke down into tears.
Just when I thought the world might hold its breath for a minute—just long enough to let drown in my own regret—my phone started ringing again. The sharp, angry sound cut through the car like a blade, shattering what little calm I had left. I glanced down, and my heart seized.
Paolo.
It was still Paolo.
My husband had never called twice in a row before. Never. Not once in all these years. My pulse roared in my ears as the phone kept vibrating in my hand, the screen lighting up my tear-streaked face like an accusation. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.
And then... the ringing stopped.
Only for it to start again.
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