One

Isabela

The sound of crystal glasses clinking filled the ballroom with an almost unbearable brilliance. High-fashion outfits paraded through the room as the guests competed for attention in every gesture, in every exaggeratedly rehearsed word. It was the kind of event I made a point to avoid. Yet here I was, holding a tray of champagne and pretending I had nothing to hide.

"Just a few more hours..." I whispered to myself. It was what I always told myself when I had to face situations that seemed unbearable. Every second here was a test of my patience and my ability to go unnoticed. And for five years, I had succeeded.

Until he walked in.

Gabriel Castellano.

The air seemed to leave the room when he appeared. Tall, with a black suit perfectly tailored to his athletic body, he carried a presence that made everyone around him seem irrelevant. His eyes, dark as the night, scanned the room with the confidence of someone who knew he owned the space, perhaps everyone there. Including, apparently, my air.

The glass on my tray trembled slightly when I saw him. I hadn't seen him since that fateful day, five years ago. Since the moment I decided to disappear and never tell him about Miguel. My son. Our son.

"Damn..." I murmured, adjusting the tray in my sweaty hands. I needed to get out of there before he saw me.

But of course, fate wasn’t going to let me escape that easily.

Our eyes met. For a second, time seemed to stop. The conversation in the ballroom turned into a distant hum, and I was trapped under his gaze. Gabriel narrowed his eyes, as if trying to believe what he was seeing. The smile he wore as he greeted the guests disappeared, replaced by a hard and inquisitive expression.

"Isabela..." he murmured, but I read his lips from across the room.

My survival instinct kicked in. I turned quickly and walked toward the doors leading to the kitchen. Maybe I could hide there until the event ended. Maybe he’d think he’d mistaken me for someone else.

But Gabriel Castellano was not the kind of man who left questions unanswered.

"You! Stop!"

His deep voice echoed above the noise of the ballroom, and my heart skipped a beat. I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard. But before I could take two more steps, I felt a firm hand grab my arm. The touch was familiar, but its weight now carried anger.

"Isabela," he repeated, and this time his voice was so close I had no choice but to face those eyes that always haunted me.

"Mr. Castellano," I replied, forcing my voice to sound steady. "I need to get back to work."

"Work? That’s a good one." He let out a dry laugh, releasing my arm just enough for me to turn fully toward him. "You disappeared for five years, and now you’re here, serving drinks at an event hosted by my family?"

"I didn’t know you’d be here." My response came too quickly, betraying the nervousness I was trying to hide. "It’s a coincidence."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, skeptical. He had always been good at detecting lies.

"Coincidence? I doubt it." He took a step closer, and the heat of his presence was suffocating. "You owe me an explanation, Isabela."

"I owe you nothing," I retorted, trying to move away. But he blocked my path.

"You think you can just disappear, leave everything behind, and I won’t demand answers?" His anger was palpable, but what scared me more was the vulnerability hidden behind it. Gabriel never liked losing control, and I clearly threw him off balance.

"We both moved on," I lied, gripping the tray so tightly my fingers hurt. "There’s nothing left to say."

He tilted his head, analyzing every line of my face. For a moment, I thought he might back off. But then, a small smile appeared on his lips. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was the smile of a man who knew there was more to the story.

"We’ll see," he said, and his tone sent a chill down my spine.

Before I could respond, one of the guests approached, catching Gabriel’s attention. I took advantage of the distraction to slip away into the kitchen, where I finally set the tray down and leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

He knew. Maybe not everything, but enough for me to know that my life was about to change.

Later that night, as I tried to organize my thoughts in the small apartment I shared with Miguel, I looked at my son’s face. He slept soundly, with the kind of peace only an innocent child could have. But I knew that wouldn’t last long. Gabriel Castellano wasn’t the kind of man to accept gaps in the story. And now that he knew I was back, he would do whatever it took to uncover the truth.

The truth I’d been hiding for five years.