The Girl Who Rose from the Ashes of Betrayal

Camila’s POV The night my life ended, started like any other night. “I said come here.” My stepfather’s voice cut through the house like a knife. I was nervous and the plate in my hand trembled so hard I almost dropped it. I never want to go when he calls me like that, but I know what will happen if I don’t. “I’m washing the dishes,” I whisper. But he was walking towards me, and then he appeared at the doorway. Ricardo Salazar is his name. To everyone outside, he is kind, rich and charming. But to me, he is a monster. “Did I ask what you were doing?” he says softly. That soft voice is worse than shouting. It means he’s angry. I lowered my head quickly and said, “No.” “Then come here.” I was scared and I forced myself forward. Each step felt like walking onto fire. When I got close enough, he smiled. That smile makes my skin crawl. “You’re learning,” he says, reaching out. I tried to hide it, but it was impossible. His eyes darken. “Why do you always act like I’m hurting you?” he murmurs. I was afraid to tell him how he always hurt me, but instead, I whispered, “I’m sorry.” He grabbed my chin so hard. “Look at me when you speak.” I lifted my eyes, and it was filled with tears. “You’re a pretty girl, Camila,” he says. “You should be grateful.” The word felt like poison, but before I could respond, “Camila!” My mother’s voice echoed from the living room. I felt relieved but I almost collapsed. Ricardo lets go of my chin slowly, like he’s reminding me that he can do whatever he wants. “Go,” he said. I left him quickly. My mother was sitting on the couch, flipping through her phone like nothing was wrong. “You called me?” I asked carefully. She didn't look up. “Why is dinner not ready?” “I was just—” “You’re always ‘just’ doing something,” she snapped, and finally looked at me, with a frown on her face, this was not so before now. Before my father died, she used to smile at me, but now, it feels like she hates me.“I’m sorry,” I said. I was always saying that word just to please her. She scoffs. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything.” She looked toward the kitchen, then back to me. “And stop trying to get attention from my husband.” I was amazed because what she said hit me like a slap. “I’m not!” I said quickly. Her expression hardens.“Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not lying!” My voice shakes. “I told you he—” “Enough!” She stood up suddenly and I stepped backwards. “I don’t want to hear your disgusting stories.” I was shocked. Disgusting…? “You’re just jealous,” she continues. “You think you can take him from me?” “No!” Tears spilled down my face. “He always hurts me,” I said. Her hand flew across my face and she slapped me. The sound echoed and there was silence. “Don’t ever say that again,” she whispers. My cheek burns and I felt hurt by her actions. She turns away like I don’t exist and at that moment, I understood something. I don’t have a mother anymore. That night, I couldn't sleep. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Every sound made my body tense. I heard footsteps, then I pulled the blanket tighter around me. “Please not tonight.” But then my door opened and I felt a sudden shock. Slow footsteps entering my room. I didn't move. I said to myself, maybe if I stay still, he’ll leave. My bed dips. He was sitting beside me. “No need to pretend,” Ricardo whispers. Tears slid silently into my pillow. “Please…” I whisper. “Go away.” He chuckles softly. “You always say that.” His hand touched my arm, I jerked away. “Don’t touch me!” I cried. But his grip tightened instantly. I felt the pain in my wrist. “You’re getting bold,” he said coldly. I became afraid. “No, I didn’t mean—” He pulled me closer, and held my breast. But I panicked. My heart raced so fast I felt like I was going to die. “Let go of me!” I started struggling with him, but he refused to let go. So I did the only thing I could think of. I bite him hard. He yells and his grip loosens. That was my chance. I pushed him and ran away. I didn't stop, I ran out of the house. Barefoot, with no phone, no bag but just fear. Cold air hits my face as I run down the empty street. Tears blurred my vision and I didn't know where I was going. I just knew I couldn't go back home. Minutes later, or maybe hours, I found myself standing on a bridge. The city lights glow below and cars pass behind me. But it felt like I was alone in the world, as I stepped closer to the edge, my hands gripped the railing. Everything hurts. “I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper. No one heard me. Tears fall freely. “I just wanted a normal life, a family, love and safety.” Is that too much? I was afraid and alone. Maybe if I let go, everything will stop hurting. I climb onto the railing slowly, with my legs shaking. The wind blows harder like it’s trying to push me back or maybe forward. I closed my eyes, and wanted to end it by jumping. But a loud sound startled me and I opened my eyes. A black car stopped behind me and the door opened. A man stepped out, he was tall, sharp and well-dressed in black. He looked at me, not with pity or fear, but like he was studying me. “What are you doing?” he asks calmly. His voice was deep. I didn't answer, I just stared at him. “Get down,” he said. That was not a request but a command. But I shook my head. “No.” His eyes narrowed slightly, “You’re going to fall.” “Maybe I want to,” I whispered. There was silence and then he came closer. “Why?” he asks. “Because I have nothing left,” I said, with my voice cracking. “My father is gone, my mother hates me and the man she married.” I stopped, I can’t say it. He looked at me closely. Then he says something unexpected. “Then don’t go back.” I blink and replayed. “What…?” “Leave,” he says simply. “Go somewhere else.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “With what? I have nothing.” He studied me for a moment, and then he said, “I can give you something.” I was amazed. “Why would you do that?” He didn't answer immediately, instead, he stepped closer, and I could see his face clearly now. Sharp jaw, dark eyes, no warmth, just control. “Because I need something too,” he said. It was a strange feeling. “What do you need?” I asked. He looked at me and said, “You.” I felt a sudden feeling of cold through me. “I don’t understand.” “You don’t need to,” he replied. Then he extended his hand, “Come with me.” I felt this was dangerous, I don’t know him. But then I thought about going back, staying or dying. And suddenly, this feels like the only choice. My hands trembled as I slowly stepped down from the railing and walked toward him. Each step felt like stepping into the unknown. I stopped in front of him, “Who are you?” I asked softly. He responded with confidence, “Alejandro de la Vega.” The name means nothing to me. But it feels important and powerful. “Are you going to hurt me?” I whisper. His expression doesn’t change. “No.” I don’t know if I believed him. But I took his hand anyway. As he led me to the car, I heard something behind us. A distant shout. “Camila!” I suddenly felt a wave of fear. Ricardo. He found me and I turned in fear, but Alejandro didn't. Instead, his grip tightens. His voice turned dangerous. “Get in the car.”