Chapter 1 – The Woman Who Didn't Remember Freedom
The moment Alejandro whispered Elena's name, she instinctively stepped backward.
Not toward him.
Toward Vivian.
That single movement shattered something inside him.
His wife wasn't afraid of strangers.
She was afraid of him.
"Elena," Alejandro said softly, refusing to move too quickly. "It's me."
Her lips trembled.
"I... I'm sorry, sir."
Sir.
Not Alejandro.
Not husband.
Not even his name.
Vivian laughed from the staircase, swirling the red wine in her glass.
"Poor thing. The maid has always been a little confused."
Alejandro never took his eyes off Elena.
"Who told you to call yourself a maid?"
Silence.
Elena lowered her head.
"I belong to the household."
Those six words felt like a knife.
She didn't say she worked there.
She said she belonged there.
Alejandro noticed faded scars around both wrists, old burns on one forearm, and tiny calluses covering her hands.
Hands that once designed charity galas and painted landscapes now looked as though they had scrubbed stone for years.
His voice hardened.
"No one leaves this room."
May you like
Security immediately sealed every entrance.
For the first time, Vivian's confident smile faltered.
