The Man Who Stole My Heart and Cries for It Back

I sat silently against the far wall of the hospital room, the thin blanket still draped over my shoulders even though I no longer felt the cold. The pain had reached a point where it simply stopped hurting. There was nothing left inside me that could ache.

The gentle chime of a message pulled me back. It was from my attorney.

Divorce documents are complete. Ready for service.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the dull tension pulling at the bandages around my arm. My hands didn’t shake as I typed my response.

Serve them tomorrow. At the merger event. Make the announcement humiliating. I want the entire board to witness him fall.

A few seconds later, the reply came.

Understood.

I let my phone rest in my palm, staring at the screen. Then another notification appeared. This time, it was from Isabel.

You shameless witch. I heard what happened. Don’t pretend to be on your deathbed tomorrow. The merger is set and we need your signature. Don’t sabotage it. You no longer have a family. All you have left is us, so cooperate and hand over control of the company.

My lips parted in disbelief, but no sound came out. I felt nothing—no anger, no sadness—only a strange, hollow calm.

I was about to toss my phone aside when another alert flashed on the screen.

It was from Luigi.

I found out the truth about the accident. I’m close. Don’t go anywhere.

Before I could reply, another message followed—this time with a video attached.

My heartbeat stalled.

I tapped it.

The footage was grainy, clearly pulled from an old security camera. Flickering. Silent at first. A timestamp glowed in the corner. The image sharpened—and there she was.

Isabel.

She stood in a poorly lit parking structure, her figure half-shadowed. At first, her voice was indistinct. Then the audio sharpened, and every word struck like shards of ice.

“Make it look accidental. Something with the brakes. Nothing too obvious.”

My stomach plunged.

“I don’t care how you manage it. Just do it before the auction. End it quickly. Her parents had far too much influence. It’s time she remembers who really controls this family.”

My lungs seized.

I replayed it.

Once.

Twice.

Then a third time.

My fingers trembled so badly I almost dropped the phone. My vision smeared at the edges, but I couldn’t look away.

And as if fate hadn’t finished twisting the blade, another message arrived.

This time—from Mateo.

Stay away from Layla. Don’t show up near her. She’s fragile right now and terrified you’ll hurt the baby. Just be present at the merger tomorrow. Afterward, I’ll take you on a nice vacation to settle things.

A broken laugh forced its way out of my chest and tangled with quiet sobs. I didn’t respond.

I blocked him.

Then I stood.

There was one final thing I needed to do before disappearing for good.

I moved through the sterile white corridors of the hospital until I found the room I was looking for. Mateo wasn’t there.

Good.

Layla lifted her head as I entered. A slow smirk curved her lips.

“Well, well. Look who decided to rise from the grave—the dead bride herself.”

I stepped inside without answering.

“What?” she scoffed. “Here to lash out at me? Don’t humiliate yourself, Isla. Mateo never loved you. Even his own mother despised you. Honestly? If you’d just die already, things would finally be perfect for us.”

My hands balled into fists at my sides. But when I looked at her, fragments of the past surfaced—cutting class together, childish secrets, pinky promises under moonlight. Two girls dreaming of futures that never imagined betrayal would be part of the story.

“I used to love you,” I said quietly. “You were my closest friend. You were my sister before everything else destroyed that.”

Layla rolled her eyes.

“Don’t turn this into a tragedy monologue. You stole him from me.”

“No,” I replied, voice firm. “You abandoned him. You ran when things got hard. I stayed. I married him. I built his world from the ground up.”

Her laughter was sharp and bitter.

“And that was your weakness.”

“And this”—I said, reaching into my pocket—“belongs to you now.”

I slid my wedding ring from my finger and flung it toward her. It bounced once against the bed before landing in her lap with a hollow clink.

“There,” I said coldly. “Put it on. Be the perfect Mrs. Madrigal. Play the role. Pretend it stands for something real.”

For the first time, her smile faltered.

“And don’t ever let him crawl back to me,” I added. “Because I won’t be here when he does.”

She snorted.

“Trust me. He won’t even look for you.”

“I truly hope that’s the case.”

I turned away.

The moment I stepped back into the hallway, I saw him.

Luigi.

Dressed in black. Sunglasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. His gaze scanned the corridor until it landed on me.

“There you are,” he said softly, his arms closing around me. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“It’s fine,” I murmured against his chest. “You still came.”

He nodded, brushing my hair back gently.

“Are you ready?”

“More than I ever have been.”

We left the hospital side by side.

At the airport, I walked straight to the trash bin near the gate. I pulled out my phone, snapped the SIM card clean in half, and dropped both pieces inside without hesitation.

Then I boarded the plane.

And for the first time in a long while, as the cabin doors sealed shut behind me, I could finally breathe—because soon enough, every one of them would regret what they had done to me.