Lina's POV
I wake up with a bad headache and a bitter taste of regret in my mouth. Pieces of last night come back in sharp flashes—the video of Rio and Jennie cooking, the drinking, the fight, and the slap that makes my hand sting with shame
My phone shows seventeen missed calls from Isabella and a string of increasingly frantic text messages about my morning schedule. I'm supposed to present to the board of directors at Mercy General Hospital in two hours, a meeting that could secure our biggest healthcare contract yet.
A soft knock at my door makes me freeze. "Young Mistress?" Maria's gentle voice carries through the wood. "I have coffee and some headache medicine. Young Master asked me to let you know he's already left for the day."
Of course he has. He's probably avoiding me as much as I want to avoid him.
The medicine Maria provides works wonders, and by the time Marcus and David escort me to the hospital, I've managed to pull myself together professionally. The presentation goes very well—the board likes our patient communication ideas, and we win a three-year deal worth millions.
Even though I succeed, it feels empty when I check my phone and see Rio didn't notice or say anything. No congratulatory text, no acknowledgment that his "investment" in my company just paid massive dividends. Just silence.
"President Harrera called," Isabella informs me as we head back to the office. "He wants to know if you're feeling better after last night. He seemed concerned."
At least someone cares about my wellbeing.
Rio's POV
I spend the whole day in back-to-back meetings to keep my mind off Lina hitting me. Work helps me forget that pain for a while. But even during the most complex technical discussions about the cardiac AI system, part of my mind keeps replaying that moment—the shock in her eyes immediately after she hit me, as if she couldn't believe what she'd done either.
"Sir?" Patricia appears in my office doorway as the afternoon drags on. "Miss Park called. She wanted to know if you'd like to have dinner tonight. She said after last night, you might need someone to talk to."
Last night. The phrase makes my jaw clench. Last night, when everything between Lina and me finally shattered completely.
"Tell her yes," I say without looking up from my computer. "Somewhere quiet."
At least with Jennie, I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not. With her, I can just be the man I was before I met Lina and everything became complicated.
Lina's POV - Evening
I'm working late at the office, partly because I have genuine business to catch up on, and partly because I'm dreading going home. Diego stops by around eight with takeout from my favorite Thai restaurant, his timing impeccable as always.
"You look better than you did last night," he observes, settling into the chair across from my desk. "Though still tired."
"I feel like I got hit by a truck," I admit. "But the Mercy General presentation went well, so at least the day wasn't a total loss."
"That's fantastic news. Your company is becoming unstoppable." His smile is warm, genuine. "You should be proud of what you've built."
The words hit differently than they would have a few weeks ago. Diego sees my success as something I've earned, something I've built through my own efforts and talent. Rio sees it as something he gave me, something I should be grateful for.
"Diego," I say suddenly, the words coming out before I can stop them. "If I needed to... if I wanted to expand internationally, would there be opportunities in Europe?"
"Of course. Barcelona is great for your company. The medical technology field there is growing fast, and your idea would be new and exciting in Europe."
He pauses, studying my face. "Are you thinking of opening a branch office?"
"Maybe. Or maybe..." I take a deep breath. "Maybe something more permanent."
Diego sets down his chopsticks, his expression growing serious. "Lina, what's going on? Last night you were clearly upset about something, and now you're talking about leaving the country. Is this about your fiancé?"
"My fiancé," I repeat, the word tasting strange on my tongue. "Sometimes I wonder if that's what he really is, or if he's just... a business partner I happen to live with."
"That's a troubling thing to say about the man you're supposed to marry."
"We have a complicated relationship," I say, echoing Rio's usual deflection. "But yes, it's about him. And about me figuring out what I actually want from my life."
Diego leans forward, his dark eyes serious. "What do you want, Lina?"
The question hangs in the air between us. What do I want? I want to feel valued for who I am, not what someone else made me. I want to build something that's entirely mine. I want to wake up excited about my day instead of dreading the cold politeness waiting for me at home.
"I want to matter," I say finally. "Not as someone's accessory or business arrangement, but as myself."
"You do matter. To your clients, to your employees, to..." He pauses. "To me."
The confession hangs between us, simple and honest. Diego has never asked for anything from me, never made me feel like I owe him something. He's just been a steady, supportive presence in my increasingly chaotic life.
"Diego—"
"I'm not asking for anything," he says quickly. "I just want you to know that someone sees your worth. Someone appreciates the brilliant, strong, independent woman you are."
Rio's POV
Dinner with Jennie is exactly what I needed—comfortable, familiar, uncomplicated. We go to a small French bistro where the lighting is dim and the atmosphere intimate, the kind of place where we can talk without being overheard.
"You seem better today," Jennie observes as we share a bottle of wine. "Less... haunted."
"I'm fine."
"Rio, you can't lie to me. I've known you too long." She reaches across the table to cover my hand with hers. "Last night was intense. Do you want to talk about what's really going on with you and Lina?"
The wine loosens my tongue more than it should. "I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know if I want to fix it anymore."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it? Look at us, Jennie. Look at how easy this is." I gesture between us. "No games, no pretense, no walking on eggshells. You understand me. You've always understood me."
Something shifts in Jennie's expression, something calculating that I'm too frustrated to notice. "We do have something special, don't we?"
"We always have."
She's quiet for a moment, then says carefully, "Rio, can I ask you something? And I need you to be completely honest with me."
"Of course."
"Do you love her? Really love her? Or are you just... attached to the idea of her?"
The question hits me like a physical blow because I don't know the answer. Do I love Lina? Or am I just obsessed with the challenge she represents, the way she makes me feel things I've never allowed myself to feel?
"I don't know," I admit quietly. "I don't know what love is supposed to feel like."
"I think you do know," Jennie says softly. "I think you're just afraid to admit it because it means being vulnerable."
She pauses, then adds with devastating casualness, "Maybe what you need is to step back from all this confusion. Maybe you need to remember what it feels like to be with someone who doesn't require you to be anyone other than yourself."
The suggestion hangs in the air between us, loaded with implication.
"Jennie..."
"I'm not asking for anything," she says, echoing words I don't realize Diego spoke to Lina just hours ago. "I'm just saying that sometimes, when we're lost, we need to return to what's familiar to find our way."
The wine, the dim lighting, the way she's looking at me with such understanding—it all combines to make her suggestion seem not just reasonable, but necessary.
"You're right," I say, and I see satisfaction flicker in her eyes. "Maybe I do need to step back. Maybe I need to remember who I was before all this."
"Exactly." Her fingers tighten on mine. "And maybe... maybe Lina needs to see what she's missing. What she could lose if she keeps taking you for granted."
Lina's POV
I don't get home until nearly midnight, and the penthouse is dark except for a single light in Rio's office. I'm tempted to go directly to my room, but something makes me pause outside his door.
Through the glass, I can see him on the phone, his voice low and intimate in a way that makes my stomach clench with suspicion.
"...I know, I had a wonderful time too," he's saying. "Yes, tomorrow sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to it."
When he hangs up, he's smiling—that same genuine, unguarded smile I saw in Jennie's video. The same smile he's never given me.
I'm about to turn away when he looks up and sees me standing there. For a moment, our eyes meet through the glass, and I see something complicated flicker across his features—guilt, perhaps, or defiance.
He opens the door slowly. "Lina. I didn't hear you come in."
"Who were you talking to?"
The question comes out more accusatory than I intended, but I can't help myself. After last night, after everything that's happened between us, the idea that he's having intimate phone conversations with someone else feels like salt in an open wound.
"Jennie," he says, his tone carefully neutral. "We had dinner tonight. She was just calling to say she got home safely."
Dinner. Of course they had dinner. While I was working late and eating takeout with Diego, Rio was wine and dining his childhood sweetheart at some romantic restaurant.
"I see."
"Lina, about last night—"
"I don't want to talk about last night," I interrupt. "I'm tired, and I have early meetings tomorrow."
"We need to discuss what happened."
"No, we don't. We both said things we didn't mean. We both... did things we regret. Let's just leave it at that."
But even as I say it, I can see in his eyes that he doesn't regret dinner with Jennie. He doesn't regret the phone call I just witnessed. He only regrets the fight that led to it.
"Good night, Rio."
"Lina, wait—"
But I'm already walking away, leaving him standing in his office doorway with words unspoken between us.
As I close my bedroom door, I make a decision that's been building for weeks: I can't keep living like this. I can't keep pretending that a business arrangement is enough when my heart is breaking a little more each day.
Tomorrow, I'm going to call Diego about those opportunities in Barcelona.
It's time to build a life that's entirely my own.
Rio's POV
I watch Lina disappear down the hallway, and something cold settles in my chest. The distance between us feels infinite now, unbridgeable.
But instead of going after her, instead of trying to explain or apologize or fight for what we might have had, I find myself thinking about Jennie's words: Maybe Lina needs to see what she could lose.
Maybe it's time to stop chasing someone who clearly doesn't want to be caught.
Maybe it's time to remind both of us that I have other options.
I pick up my phone and scroll to Jennie's number, typing quickly before I can second-guess myself:
"Thank you for tonight. I haven't felt this much like myself in months. Tomorrow can't come soon enough."
Her response comes immediately: "I've missed you too. Sleep well, and don't worry about anything else. We'll figure it all out together."
As I turn off the lights and head to my own room, I tell myself I'm making the right choice. I'm protecting myself, taking control of a situation that's been spiraling for too long.
But deep in my chest, something feels fundamentally wrong about the path I'm choosing.
Something that feels dangerously close to the biggest mistake of my life.