The sun filtered through the curtains, stinging Ariana's eyes as she drifted into consciousness. She sat up, clutching the silk sheets, her mind a fog of disjointed memories.
"How the hell did I get home?" she whispered. The last thing she remembered was the quiet safety of her mother's guest room.
The transition to the cold, expansive master suite of Roberto's estate felt like a glitch in reality.
"I was at Mom's... how did I get here?"
A rhythmic knock at the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
Ariana slid out of bed and pulled the door open to find Mrs. Daniella standing there with her usual poise.
"Mr. Roberto brought you home," the housekeeper said softly. "He was quite worried when he heard you had gone to see the doctor alone."
"I see..." Ariana replied, the words heavy with defeat.
Even in her private moments, Roberto's reach was absolute.
"Will you be coming down for breakfast?"
"Is there a special occasion?" Ariana asked, suspicious of any deviation from their cold routine.
"Not exactly," Mrs. Daniella replied.
Ariana exhaled a sharp, jagged breath. "I'll be down shortly."
By the time Ariana descended the grand staircase, she felt armored in her silk blouse and tailored trousers.
She stepped into the kitchen and froze. Roberto was there, seated at the head of the breakfast table.
It was a jarring sight; normally, he was a ghost by dawn, consumed by the dark machinery of his business.
What's the problem now? she wondered.
"Mummy!"
A small, high-pitched voice shattered the silence.
Suddenly, a pair of small arms wrapped tightly around Ariana's knees.
She looked down, her heart skipping a beat in pure confusion.
"Who...?"
"I've been waiting for you!" the little girl chirped, looking up with wide, expectant eyes.
"Daddy said if I waited patiently and behaved, then you'd come down."
Ariana's gaze snapped to Roberto. He sat behind his laptop, his face a mask of indifference.
"Whose kid is this?" she demanded.
"Mummy," the girl repeated.
"Don't call me that!" Ariana snapped, her frustration boiling over. Roberto remained silent, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his keyboard.
"Roberto! Whose goddamn baby is this?"
"She's mine," Roberto replied calmly, finally looking up.
"You're joking, right?" Ariana waited for a smirk, a laugh, anything. There was no reply.
"You had a child? Since when?"
"Since today, apparently," Roberto said, taking a slow sip of his black coffee.
"I don't understand. You just found out she's yours? How the hell is that even possible?"
"DNA tests prove the lineage. At this point, I don't even know who the mother is," he said, his voice as cold as ice.
"And now what? She's just going to live with us?" Ariana's voice shook.
"We just got married, and you think you can bring another woman's child into our home? I will not accept that."
Roberto's fist hit the table with a violence that made the china rattle.
"That is my daughter. I will not abandon her."
"I will not sit back and watch another woman's child waltz into this house!"
Roberto stood up, his presence looming over the room like a dark shroud.
"Why the fuck are you taking this so personally? Need I remind you that this marriage is just for show? You are paid to be here, Ariana. Do not let the illusion of being my wife get to your head. I'm keeping her, and that's final. If you can't stand my decision, then get the hell out."
The air left the room. Ariana felt the sting of the insult, but she didn't crumble. Instead, a bitter, beautiful smile spread across her face.
"My performance in this arrangement is precisely that—a performance," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, silky low.
She reached up and ruffled her hair, shedding the last of her suburban-wife persona.
"I suggest you remember the terms of the contract as well, specifically the clause regarding mutual respect. Do not mistake my compliance for a lack of self-respect. I am paid to play the role of your wife, Mr. Roberto Gonzalez, not to tolerate your vulgarity."
She snatched her keys off the counter. "I wouldn't dream of standing in your way."
"Mrs. Gonzalez, what about breakfast?" Mrs. Daniella asked, caught in the crossfire.
"The directive from the head of the household was unequivocal, Mrs Daniella," Ariana said, her eyes fixed on Roberto.
"I am persona non grata within this family."
Roberto didn't look at her as she walked away. "Come on, Zara," he said to the child. "Let's have breakfast."
"Does my new mummy hate me?" Zara's small voice echoed.
Roberto's eyes flickered toward Ariana's retreating back for a split second. "Of course she doesn't... She's just stressed, that's all."
Ariana was halfway to her car when her phone screamed Sofia's ringtone.
"Aunty Orange! Where are you?" Sofia yelled. "You have to accompany me to get my birthday dress!"
"Baby, not so loud," Ariana said, struggling to unlock the car door with her free hand.
"I'm on my way. I just need to grab Mama Bear."
"Mama Bear's here already! You're late! Did you really forget your promise?"
The heavy mansion door swung open—Mrs. Daniella had followed her out to help.
"Thank you," Ariana whispered to the housekeeper.
"Aunty Orange! Are you even listening?"
"Yes, baby, loud and clear. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"You better!" Sofia hung up.
Ariana collapsed into the driver's seat and exhaled.
"His authentic sentiments concerning my character have been unequivocally revealed," she muttered to the steering wheel.
She started the engine, the roar of the car a cathartic release. "Let's go see our princesa."
Shopping with Sofia was like being caught in a luxury whirlwind.
"Baby, are all these necessary?" Ariana asked, eyeing the mountain of shopping bags being hauled by the guards.
"The dresses are a bit excessive."
"There's no such thing as a dress being excessive," Sofia declared, her small chin held high.
"Besides, Abuela asked me to shop till my heart's desire."
"Of course she did," Ariana sighed.
"Are you okay?" Sofia asked suddenly. "That's the sixteenth time you've sighed. It's unsettling. Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
Ariana followed the six-year-old into a Chanel VIP room. "It's just adult stuff, Sofia."
"Stuff with Gangster Uncle?"
Ariana choked on her air. "Gangster Uncle? Since when?"
"Since after the wedding. And Papa Bear's boss is the Underground Boss-Man," Sofia said matter-of-factly.
"You gave them nicknames?"
"Of course, but Underground Boss-Man doesn't like his name."
"Who would blame him?" Ariana muttered. She watched the employees roll out a selection of bags that cost more than most people's cars.
"Now tell me what's bothering you. Did you and Gangster Uncle have an argument?" Sofia asked.
"Yeah" Ariana whispers.
"About?"
I can't believe I'm receiving therapy from a child.
"He brought a child home," Ariana finally admitted.
"So?"
"The child isn't mine, Sofia."
"But it's his child, right?"
"Yeah... but she isn't mine."
Sofia walked among the handbags, touching the leather with a discerning eye.
"You want to reject this girl because she isn't yours?You're too young to understand, Aunty Orange."
"That's my line," Ariana replied.
"Maybe," Sofia said, "but I'm not your child, yet you take care of me like I'm yours"
"That's different"
"How is that any different? Her mother might not even be around. She just got to meet her biological father for the first time."
Sofia turned to the clerk. "Tomorrow's my birthday. Bring me a dress that screams luxury and wealth."
As the lady hurried off, Sofia looked back at Ariana.
"I can't imagine what I would do if I didn't have you, or Papa Bear, or Mama Bear."
"I don't know the first thing about taking care of someone else's child," Ariana whispered.
Sofia picked up a glass of coconut milk, looking remarkably like a tiny CEO.
"What exactly are you scared of? Are you scared of getting attached to her and then her mother appears to take her away? Or perhaps you're scared of messing things up?"
"I don't know."
"You did a great job raising me," Sofia said firmly.
"That's because I had Mama Bear and Papa bear with me" Ariana admitted.
"Then know that they are going to be by your side every step of the way" Sofia twirled the glass slowly before taking a sip. "This girl would be so lucky to have you as her stepmom."
"You grew up too fast."
"Well, Abuela said the only way to get ahead in life is by being smarter than the smarties and sharper than the sharpies. That's why I attend the most prestigious school in the country."
"You're just five," Ariana laughed.
"I'm six, thank you very much!"
"Now I see why every penny was worth it." Ariana whispers.
They were led into a secondary room filled with intricate princess dresses.
Ariana sat back, watching the little girl who wasn't hers dispense wisdom that put her husband to shame.
"What's her name?" Sofia asked, spinning in a cloud of tulle.
"Zara," Ariana said, the name finally feeling real. "Her name is Zara."
"Zara... what a beautiful name." Sofia smoothed out the silk of her own dress with a practiced grace that defied her age.
"I want her to attend my birthday party tomorrow. I don't care what issues you have with Gangster Uncle, Aunty Orange. Don't drag Zara into your mess."
Ariana stared at the tiny strategist, momentarily stunned. "Aye, aye, Captain," she finally managed, offering a mock salute to hide her surprise.
{In The Gonzalez Estate}
The heavy grand double door of the mansion didn't just open; they practically splintered under the weight of Augustine's fury.
"Where is that brat!" his voice thundered through the foyer, vibrating the crystal chandeliers.
"Honey, please, calm down," Samantha pleaded, her heels clicking rapidly as she tried to keep pace with her husband's murderous stride.
Roberto appeared at the top of the stairs, descending with a calm that only added fuel to the fire.
"Good timing," he said, his voice flat. "Let me introduce you to your granddaughter."
Augustine didn't wait for him to reach the bottom. He marched across the marble and launched a fist that sent Roberto sprawling to the floor.
"You fucking bastard!" Augustine roared, looming over his son. "What have I done to deserve an imbecile like you?"
Samantha lunged forward, grabbing Augustine's arm. "Amore, that's enough!"
"All this piece of shit seems to do is bring us constant shame!" Augustine spat, ignoring his wife's plea.
"Bringing a bastard child into your matrimonial home... what the hell were you thinking?"
"Zara isn't a bastard," Roberto snapped, wiping a trail of blood from his lip as he stood.
"Oh, so you went ahead and named it?" Augustine sneered.
"I carried out a DNA test," Roberto replied, his voice hardening. "She is mine. My blood."
Samantha stepped between them, her eyes flashing.
"Why now, Roberto? Why bring her into your home this way? What do you think Ariana is going to say?"
"I am the man of this house," Roberto said, retreating into the cold arrogance that was his shield.
"My decision stands. Ariana will just have to live with it."
"Why, I ought to—" Augustine's hand blurred as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a matte black handgun.
The room erupted.
Bodyguards who had been hovering in the shadows moved like lightning, swarming Augustine to keep his arm pinned.
"Where is Ariana, anyway?" Samantha asked over the shouting, her voice trembling.
"She left," Roberto said shortly.
"Get off me!" Augustine struggled against the sea of black suits.
"I ought to wipe that smug calmness right off his face!"
"No woman would be happy to watch her husband bring another woman's child home, Roberto," Samantha said, her disappointment cutting deeper than Augustine's shout.
"You could have found somewhere safe for her until things were settled."
"I won't abandon her," Roberto insisted.
"I didn't know I had a daughter until this morning. My whole life, Dad, you taught me to take responsibility. That is exactly what I'm doing."
"None of this would be happening if you'd kept that thing locked in your pants!" Augustine barked, finally slowing his struggle as the guards lowered their grip.
"I will talk to Ariana," Samantha sighed, rubbing her temples. "Perhaps she will reconsider."
The tension snapped as the sound of small footsteps echoed in the hall.
Zara appeared, her eyes wide as she peered around the corner. She moved quickly, hiding behind Roberto's legs.
"Mom, Dad..." Roberto said, his voice softening. "This is Zara. Your granddaughter."
Samantha's maternal instincts took over instantly.
She knelt, softening her expression. "Hey, darling. How are you?"
"Am I causing problems for everyone?" Zara whispered, her voice tiny.
"Mommy used to call me a problem child."
"What? No," Samantha said firmly, casting a sharp look at the men.
"You aren't the problem, sweetie. This is just grown-up stuff."
"My new mom didn't seem to like me," Zara said, her lip trembling.
"She left because of me. Now you're fighting Dad because he brought me here."
"Honey..." Samantha nudged Augustine hard with her elbow.
"Your new mummy just went to work. She'll be home in no time. Right, Grandpa?"
Augustine cleared his throat, tucking his weapon away and forcing a rough chuckle.
"Yeah. We aren't fighting because of you. Your dad is just so stubborn that sometimes I consider leaving a few led present inside his head."
Zara let out a surprised laugh. "You're funny."
"Have you picked out a bedroom yet?" Samantha asked, guiding the girl toward the stairs.
"But I already have one at Dad's house," Zara said.
"True, but you always need one at Tata and Nana's house," Samantha smiled.
"Tata and Nana?"
"Grandpa and Grandma. Go on—Florence will show you the way."
As the maid led Zara upstairs, the silence returned, heavier than before.
"The poor girl doesn't deserve this," Samantha whispered, her eyes fixed on her husband.
"The mistakes of her deadbeat parents shouldn't be her burden."
Augustine sighed, the fire leaving him. "That's true. But I can't afford to lose my daughter-in-law."
Samantha turned on Roberto, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to her level.
"Find a way to fix this," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Or you will have to deal with me."
Ariana returned long after the sun had set, her body aching from the weight of the shopping bags and the heavier weight on her heart.
She didn't check the kitchen or the parlor; she simply crawled into bed and let the darkness claim her.
When she woke the next morning, there was an unusual warmth against her side.
She shifted, pulling back the duvet, and froze. Zara was curled up beside her, snuggled into the blankets like a small, lost bird.
As Ariana moved, Zara's eyes flew open. She scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed in her haste to reach the door.
"I'm sorry!" Zara cried. "I had a nightmare last night. I just wanted to shut my eyes for a minute and leave before you woke up!"
"Wait," Ariana said, her voice soft with sleep. "There's no need to fret."
Zara stopped, her hand on the doorknob. "Really?"
"Yeah. I'm not mad." Ariana sat up, brushing her hair back.
"Actually, I want you to accompany me to a birthday party today. I even got you a new dress."
Zara's face didn't light up. Instead, it fell. "I'm not going."
"Why not?" Ariana asked, genuinely confused.
"You're going to abandon me," Zara whispered. "Mom did it once. You'll do the same."
The words hit Ariana like a physical blow. She sighed, beckoning the girl back to the bed.
"I am not your mother, Zara. But listen to me: I would never abandon you. If it makes you feel better... ask your dad to tag along."
Zara's entire world seemed to brighten in an instant.
"Dad!" she screamed, bolting for the door and sprinting downstairs. "Mom's taking me to a party and you're invited!"
A moment later, there was a gentle knock. Roberto opened the door, leaning against the frame.
He looked tired, the bruise on his jaw a dark reminder of the previous day.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For accepting her."
Ariana stood, walking past him toward her vanity without a second glance.
"I didn't do this for you, Roberto. I did it because that innocent girl deserves better than you for a father. Now, excuse me. I have a party to prepare for."