Adrián’s POV
Three months have passed since Claudia died. Three months that feel like an eternity in hell. The mansion is an empty mausoleum. I walk through hallways that once echoed with her voice, her light laughter, the click of her heels as she ran to greet me. Now there is only silence. A silence that suffocates me, that crushes my chest every time I breathe. I sleep on the office couch because I can’t bear the empty bed. Her side remains untouched: the pillow with her scent slowly fading, the book she was reading left open on the nightstand. I don’t touch it. I can’t.
I used to be cold. Strict. Controlled. People respected me; they didn’t fear me. I made decisions without hesitation, and others followed. Now everyone avoids me. Employees lower their eyes when I pass. Executives
