ELENA
My phone vibrates from the dashboard. I want to ignore the text—maybe it’s Drake and his stupid antics—but curiosity is eating me alive. A few minutes with him unravel a lot of emotions that I didn’t even know I could exert. The anger that coursed through my veins back in the office when he stood a few feet away, his lips spilling hot lies.
How can he pretend and mask his infidelity with “he was doing it for me?” Doing what exactly? Flirting with Rosa and taking her as his Luna? Prioritizing her and her kid over us? The leather crackles as I squeeze the wheel tighter. Why the hell is he everywhere? First my house, now this place?
Is he stalking me? Because how did he even know about the job? I didn’t even use my name—at least not the name I bear at the moment—because I was afraid
