After Divorce: A Twist of Fate

After Divorce: A Twist of Fate

At ten o'clock sharp, the dim corridors of the Dynasty Hotel were eerily silent. Karina Costa stood before the door labeled Presidential Suite 7203, the bold numbers gleaming under the faint glow of the hallway lights.

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“This is it,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, breaking the silence. She glanced at the message on the screen, her fingers trembling slightly.

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[Karina, your aunt agreed. If you keep Mr. Francisco happy, I’ll pay your brother’s medical expenses immediately.]

—Lucas Costa.

Her expression remained unreadable, a mask she had perfected over years of enduring pain and humiliation. Beneath her composed exterior, her heart felt heavy; each beat echoing like a distant drum in her chest.

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For as long as she could remember, life had been cruel. After her father remarried, she and her younger brother became nothing more than burdens. Her stepmother’s malice knew no bounds, subjecting them to years of neglect and abuse. Hunger and tattered clothes were a given; bruises and harsh words were routine.

And now, Lucas—the man who should have protected her—had gone one step further. To erase his business debts, he was forcing her into something unthinkable.

Karina’s stomach churned, her pale fingers tightening around the phone. She had refused at first, but her defiance met with a chilling ultimatum: if she didn’t comply, her brother’s medical treatment would be cut off immediately.

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Her brother. The thought of his innocent face filled her mind. He didn’t deserve to suffer because of their family’s greed. His autism required continuous care, and missing even a single appointment could jeopardize his progress.

Taking a deep breath, Karina steeled herself. She had no choice.

Her knuckles hovered over the door before she hesitated. The silence stretched thin, oppressive like a weighted blanket. Finally, she gave the door a light push, surprised when it creaked open.

The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, an uninviting void. Karina frowned, unease creeping into her thoughts. She took a cautious step forward, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps.

“Mr. Francisco,” she called softly, her voice carrying through the stillness. “I’ve come in...”

Her words faded as her eyes struggled to adjust to the pitch-black space. The air was thick, the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering. Something about the silence felt wrong—too deliberate, too heavy.

Karina swallowed hard, forcing herself further into the room. Her pulse quickened, each beat reverberating in her ears as the unsettling darkness seemed to press closer.

Was this the beginning of her worst nightmare—or something darker than she’d imagined?