Chapter 1 - The Fall

"It's beautiful here, Diego," Andrea said, smiling at the sky, a blend of soft pink and orange. The breeze fluttered her auburn hair at the edge of the cliff. "Thanks for bringing me."

Diego pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed on the exposed olive skin of her back revealed by the deep V-cut of her purple dress. "I'm glad you like it, Andy."

She turned from the distant meadows and waters to face him, her grin wide. The roar of the waterfall was distinct. 

Her expression changed, a frown creasing her forehead. "Why are you so tense? What's wrong?"

Diego turned away, pacing a short distance. He dipped his hands into his coat pocket. "Things could've been different, Andrea." 

"What do you mean?" She stepped back, her heart racing.

With a swift motion, he pulled a gun from his coat and aimed it at her face.

Her eyes widened. She stretched out a hand toward him. "Diego, what are you doing?!"

His grip on the gun wavered, his eyes reddening. "I'm sorry... But I have to do this to rule over the empire. I can't keep living in your shadow, Andrea. I have to be the boss," he sighed. "I've tried convincing you to give up your birthright because you're not the rightful heiress, but you wouldn't listen."

"Diego, I am the heiress," she breathed frantically. "I order you to drop the gun."

"Ordering your fiancé. How rude. You don't know the whole story, but I do. You're not the heiress."

At the end of his words, he pulled the trigger. The echo reverberated through the trees. She staggered back, clutching her stomach as her ocean blue eyes glinted with tears. Blood seeped through her fingers and she looked down at the crimson stain spreading on her dress.

She staggered, searching the air for something to steady herself, but found nothing.

"Diego?!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"As much as this hurts me..." He bit his lip, pausing. "I love you." He whispered before firing again, the bullet grazing her side and she fell backward off the cliff.

As the water collected her, an oncoming wave swept her away. 

Diego hurried to the cliff's edge, peering down at the flowing water. He thrusted the gun back into his coat pocket and turned away, his expression solemn as he strode to his magenta limousine. Sitting in the driver's seat, he adjusted the rearview mirror, his steely grey eyes piercing his reflection as he pushed back the fallen strands of his jet-black hair.

Dialing a number on his phone, he placed it to his ear. "It's done," he said as the call connected. "Now it's time for you to keep your end of the bargain." 

He slid on the sunglasses resting on the dashboard and turned on the engine. A hip-hop jam blasted from the radio as he maneuvered northward and drove off.

* * *

Andrea gasped, drawing breath into her lungs. As she coughed, water poured from her mouth. She screamed in pain, struggling to sit up on the desolate forest shore where the water had spat her out. The sky above darkened with the fading light of dusk. Rising to her feet with labored breathing, she staggered into the forest with trembling hands pressed against her wounded stomach.

She discarded her heels, sinking her bare feet into the cold earth as she ventured further. The pain in her legs, the throbbing of her head, and the excruciating agony of the bullet wound made her crave death, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

"I trusted him," she murmured through gritted teeth. "I thought he cared for me!"

"He will pay for this," she reassured herself.

Twenty minutes later, she was still walking, her damp hair and clothes attracting the breeze, making her shiver. With every ounce of strength, she pushed forward, the honking of cars in the distance giving her hope.

She emerged from the woods to the bright lights of the city across the road. She waved at oncoming vehicles, screaming for help, but they sped past her. Her pupils dilated, her lips cracked and begging for hydration.

"I will find him, and every traitor involved in my betrayal will pay dearly..." She collapsed, the pavement cold against her body.

'I have to survive,' she thought. 'I won't let them take over my family's legacy. I am the heiress to the Moretti Empire!'

A Camry pulled over, its headlights flashing into her blurry gaze. Someone stepped out and approached her in a hurry. "What happened to you?" a female voice asked.

Andrea looked up but saw only a blurry silhouette. "Who... Who are you?" she asked weakly, before darkness crawled over her vision.

* * *

Andrea fluttered her eyes open, her aching body resting against a soft couch. A fluffy blanket covered her, providing warmth as a ceiling fan screeched with each pivot. She sat up with a groan, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar room. She now wore a loose black tank top and sweatpants.

Minutes later, the door opened, and a girl struggled in with grocery sacks, using her body to shut the door.

"Oh, you're awake!" she said, meeting Andrea's gaze. "Great. I got us breakfast."

"How did I get here?" Andrea asked hoarsely. "Who are you?"

"You passed out by the roadside last night, leaving a trail of blood. You should be grateful I found you; otherwise, you'd be a carcass by now."

"I think 'corpse' is the word you're looking for," Andrea corrected. "Carcass sounds inappropriate, since I'm human."

"Are you sure?" The girl teased with a smirk. "Anyway, I'm Stephanie."

Andrea pulled up the tank top to examine her stomach, which was covered in bandages. "Are you a nurse?" she asked.

"I'm not, but my mom was. I've watched her dress wounds a few times," Stephanie said, pulling out plates from the cupboard. "I did my best with what I had."

"Thank you," Andrea said.

"It's okay. What's your name?" Stephanie asked.

Andrea paused, her eyes darting. "Ava," she said finally. "Ava Anderson."

"Girl, you scared me for a second. I thought you had amnesia." Stephanie chuckled. "Tacos or bacon and eggs?" She lifted the plates, her eyebrows raised in question.

"Bacon," Andrea replied, standing up. Her sore feet pressed against the tiled floor as she glided to the kitchen and sat at the table.

Stephanie placed a plate of food in front of her and set down a hot cup of tea, the beverage's aroma lingering in the air.

"Thank you," Andrea smiled, pulling the food closer.

"Sure," Stephanie said, sitting down to her own plate of tacos. "So, Ava, what happened to you last night?"

Andrea hesitated as the night before flashed through her mind like a fragmented nightmare. "I crossed paths with some thugs," she said. "They took my car, purse, and phone, shot me, and left me for dead. I think someone sent them."

Stephanie nodded, her expression serious. "Well, you're safe here."

Andrea nodded, chewing the bacon. 

* * *

"It was done. The hard decision I had to make was done: choosing power over love. It was all over, but can I ever forgive myself?" Diego sat shirtless, scribbling in his journal. "I must not show my feelings. No one must know how hurt I am by what I did; they must think I don't feel any guilt."

An approaching footstep in the usually tranquil hallway made him wrap up his journal, tucking it behind the headboard. His suite was the last in the hallway, so as the clicking of shoes came closer, he was certain he had a guest. A quick knock on the door, and he went to open it. His boss strode in with such magnificence like she owned the apartment.

"You did great, Diego. You carried out the job cleanly. The board of directors bought the story about Andrea running away with half the company's funds. Well done," she said, spreading herself over his bed.

"You underestimate me. Everyone does, Ma'am," he said.

"Ma'am?" She chuckled. "Oh, please, you know you can call me by my first name." She winked at him, her gaze lingering on his physique.

"You said you'd fix me in Andrea's place." He said, ignoring her as he walked away from her flirty stares to his wardrobe to get a shirt. 

"No need to rush, my dear. Together, we will grip the Moretti estate so tightly that no one will dare to snatch it from us," Freya assured. She reached into her bust and pulled out a paper, gesturing for him to take it.

"What's this?" He asked as he took it.

"It's a who, not a what," Freya said. "She goes by the name Stephanie Davis. Kill her, too. She'll be a threat when she finds out the truth."

"What truth?" He frowned.

"You don't need to know, just get the job done!" she said.

"No more killing, Freya. I'm not a murderer!" He retorted.

"You killed the love of your life. You're already a murderer, and unless you want Andrea's death to be in vain, you'll handle this one too." She stood up, swaying her hips as she moved toward the door. "Don't get rid of her, and you will die." Her lips curved into a smirk as she exited, closing the door behind her.