[Morning — Felix's Villa]
Amelia stretched lazily across the mattress, her fingers wandering across the sheets in search of him. Empty. Only creases remained where his body had been.
She frowned, eyes still closed, patting the bed.
Nothing.
With a sigh, she blinked awake. Soft morning light slipped stubbornly through the curtains, painting faint gold lines across the room.
Then she heard it — the steady rush of water from the bathroom — and relief loosened her shoulders.
A slow smile curved her lips.
He hasn't left yet.
She tossed the blanket aside and caught sight of herself — naked, Bruised kisses.
Fingers brushed over the marks, memories of the night unfurling like a reel in her mind. Heat flushed through her at the thought, and her gaze drifted to the bathroom door.
He was probably naked in there too.
The thought made her bite her fingertip.
A little morning surprise wouldn't hurt. Just a taste.
She slid one foot to the floor.
Vrrr.
Felix's phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Amelia paused, eyes flicking between the bathroom door and the phone. Curiosity tugged harder than her self-control.
The caller ID read:
No. 14
She frowned.
Who labels someone like that?
After a short internal debate, she picked up.
"We're practically one," she told herself. "What's mine is his. What's his is… also mine."
She lifted the phone to her ear.
Before she could say hello, a woman's voice poured through — sweet, breathy, and far too intimate.
"Where have you been, Daddy? I tried calling all night. You should've seen how badly I wanted you. I was losing my mind thinking about you inside me…ah..!"
Amelia went rigid.
Her blood turned to ice.
The voice giggled softly. "I missed you. I even used my vibrator while screaming your name. Why aren't you saying anything?"
Please let this be the wrong number, Amelia begged silently.
"Felix?"
The sound of his name shattered any hope left.
"Who are you?" Amelia bit out, her jaw tight, rage climbing up her throat.
"Oh," the woman said lightly. "You must be one of his girls. Cute. Me too."
Amelia's grip tightened.
"Where is he? Tell him to come see me when he's done with you. I really need him."
"How dare you?" Amelia snapped, rising from the bed, every nerve on fire.
"This is my man. Call him again like this and I swear I'll…"
"Relax," the girl laughed. "We're both in the same club. Both bitc..hes. I'm just Number Fourteen. There are more."
The words dropped like stones.
The number suddenly made sense.
Fourteen.
Meaning thirteen came before her. Maybe more after.
And all this time, she had believed she was the only one.
"Anyway, don't be greedy," the girl added sweetly.
"Everyone loves a tasty snack. Good things are meant to be shared. Tell Daddy I'm fucking wet this morning too and he wouldn't wanna miss."
The line went dead.
The silence after felt louder than the voice before it.
The phone slipped from Amelia's fingers and landed on the bed with a dull thud. She sank down slowly, like her knees no longer trusted her.
Tears gathered, hot and quiet, sliding down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Felix stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling behind him. A white towel clung low around his waist, droplets tracing the lines of his chest. The scent of soap and cool aftershave drifted across the room.
"Good morning, babe."
He leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to Amelia's cheek, just a casual kiss.
He turned away, opening his wardrobe, fingers sliding through rows of perfectly pressed suits. He always wore suits, his armor, his comfort, his habit. Felix didn't feel like Felix unless he was buttoned into one.
He chose a deep blue set and began pulling on the trousers.
"Dad called," he said, voice light, unsuspecting. "Something important. I'm going to the mansion to meet him."
Silence answered him.
He paused, slipping his watch onto his wrist.
"Babe?"
Still nothing.
He turned fully this time
Amelia sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, eyes unfocused, like she was staring straight through the wall.
A ripple of unease crossed his face.
"What's wrong, babe?
Her voice came out soft.
"Which number am I?"
He blinked. "What?"
She lifted the phone with a trembling hand.
"Number Fourteen just called."
His shoulders tensed.
"She said she waited for you last night. Said she missed you. Said she wanted you inside her." The words left her mouth flat, emotionless — like reciting a diagnosis.
Felix's throat worked. "Babe, that's not… it's not what you think."
Her eyes finally met his, wet and burning.
She swallowed hard. "Do you enjoy it when they scream your name? When they call you…" Her jaw clenched. "…Daddy?"
He moved closer, carefully, like approaching something fragile.
"Babe, listen.."
She shifted away before he could touch her. A tear slipped free.
"Babe, that girl is nothing. Just someone who won't stop hanging around. I swear… you're the only one I love."
She laughed — cracked, wounded. "So I'm the only one you love… but not the only one you f*ck?"
Her voice shattered into a sob.
He flinched.
"I'm sorry, babe." He wrapped his arms around her before she could retreat again. "I promise, I won't do it anymore."
She hit his chest weakly, fighting him — but her body still leaned into the warmth she hated needing.
"Those girls chase me. They trap me. Sometimes I mess up. I loose control. I'm trying. Please.. you have to understand me."
Her sobs softened against him.
"I love you, Felix. I don't want to share you. Not with anyone. Not ever."
He pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her tighter, as if pressure could stop the bleeding.
When her tears finally slowed, he eased back, palms still on her shoulders.
"Take a shower and rest, okay? I need to see Dad. Promise me you won't keep crying."
She turned away instead.
He gently tilted her chin back, kissed her again — softer this time, almost apologetic.
"No one will ever take your place. I love you."
Her heart melted despite the bruise forming inside it. When his lips brushed hers, she kissed him back with hunger — like she could claim him, brand him, keep him.
He broke the kiss first.
"See you later, babe."
She only nodded.
Felix grabbed his suit jacket and phone and left the room.
Down in the garage, he slid into the driver's seat, jaw clenched tight. He dialed quickly. The call connected instantly.
"Daddy…" the voice purred.
His expression turned to stone.
"If you ever call me again, I'll cut off your head. We're done."
"Wait…"
He hung up before she could finish, started the engine, and drove away.
☆
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[Rodriguez Mansion]
The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted across the dining hall, soft morning light spilling through the tall windows.
Annabella walked downstairs slowly, dressed simply — a white long-sleeve shirt and short trousers — the casual clothes making her feel smaller than usual.
"Good morning, Dad," she said gently, as a maid pulled out her chair.
Martin didn't answer. He kept cutting into his breakfast with cold precision, as if she didn't exist.
Her gaze slid toward Maxwell, silently pleading.
He looked away.
Annabella lifted her plate, served herself a neat portion of tortilla de patatas, and began eating with quiet grace.
Martin's voice cut through the silence.
"Shall we talk about your behavior now?"
Her fork stopped halfway to her lips. She set it down with a sighed.
He leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"Leaving the business event without permission. Drinking alcohol. Declaring you 'own the law' in front of cameras. Smashing a bottle over someone's head. What if he had died?"
His palm struck the table. The sound made her flinch.
"But he didn't," she replied coolly, masking the flicker.
"That news spread everywhere. Do you know how much damage it would have done if I hadn't taken it down?"
Annabella exhaled slowly. "But you did take it down. And if it happens again, you can take it down again. We have power."
Her tone sharpened.
"That pervert deserved it. I only left him with a scar. I didn't kill him. So what's the big deal?"
Martin's voice hardened.
"You are the Rodriguez heiress, Annabella. Every move you make must be calculated. Controlled. What do you think the business world will say about you when they see this kind of behavior?".
"They can think whatever they want. I don't care about the business. I hate it!" She scoffed.
"Annabella!" His fork clattered against the porcelain.
"You are the only true Rodriguez heiress. This empire will be yours to rule one day."
Her chest tightened.
"I'm not running anything," she shot back.
"Give it to Brother Max if you need someone. He's right here."
"You're my only child, Ananbella." Martin said firmly reminding her.
"Dad," she whispered, staring at him.
"This isn't fair."
Tears burned behind her eyes.
"I'm full."
She stood and walked away, even though she had barely eaten.
"I'll be heading to the office," Maxwell murmured, rising as well.
The room fell silent again.
Martin leaned back, pressing his fingers against his brow.
"Why can't you understand, Princess?" he whispered to the empty table.
"Everything I built… I built for you."
☆
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☆
[Morales Mansion]
Felix eased the car up the long, gleaming driveway, the engine purring to silence as he stopped.
The mansion rose ahead of him — glass and white stone layered like something carved out of money and ambition.
Morning lights washed over the walls, soft and elegant, making the house glow like it owned the world.
The infinity pool stretched along the front like a sheet of dark glass. Two copper pipes descended from the high roof, pouring steady ribbons of water into the pool.
The sound of it — calm, rhythmic — was the only thing moving in the quiet.
He stepped out of the car and inhaled the faint scent of chlorine and polished stone.
No laughter. No footsteps. No staff hovering nearby. Just silence — the kind that felt intentional.
Felix walked past the pool, his reflection rippling across the surface, and pushed open the heavy front door.
Inside, the mansion swallowed him whole.
Cold. Immaculate. Expensive — like everything inside existed only because someone had paid enough to make it obey.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framing the dark water outside, marble stretching endlessly toward the back of the estate.
Lorenzo Morales sat in the center of the living room, on a wide leather couch like a king on his throne. He didn't even glance up.
"You're late," he said,calmly.
Felix dropped onto the opposite couch, relaxed, almost lazy. "Good morning, Dad."
"Morning, son." Lorenzo's eyes finally shifted toward him. "You didn't come home last night?"
"I was at my villa," Felix replied, as if it were nothing.
A smirk twitched at Lorenzo's lips. "Fucking another woman, right?"
They both laughed — easy, careless — like that was simply part of the routine.
But then Lorenzo's expression changed.
"So," he said slowly, leaning forward, "I need to talk to you about something very important."
Felix straightened a little, attention sharpening.
"I just received intel from my agents," Lorenzo continued, voice calm but edged with strategy.
"Fifty percent of the Rodriguez assets are under Annabella's name." he added.
Greed flickered immediately in Felix's eyes. "That much?"
"Martin foolishly transferred all his shares to his daughter," Lorenzo said, almost amused at the mistake.
He leaned closer, lowering his tone.
"Do you understand what that means, son?"
Felix frowned, thinking.
"That girl is young. Naive. She has no idea how vicious the business world is. With the right push… we can make her hand over those shares… to us."
A slow smirk curved across Felix's lips.
"Well… actually, I've been working on that for a while now."
Lorenzo's brows rose. "So you already knew?"
"I have my own source too, Dad." Felix brushed a hand through his hair, casual but proud.
"Infact, Annabella has fifty percent of Martin's shares, and twenty percent as Rodriguez heiress. She's the biggest shareholder in the entire empire."
"I'm already planning how to take it from her." he smirked.
Lorenzo watched his son with something like satisfaction. "You grew up smarter than your father. I'm proud of you son."
Felix smiled, but it was sharp — all ambition.
"You always taught me," he said softly, "that money is power. And when it comes to power… it's never enough. It decides who own the world."
He leaned back to the sofa.
"Soon enough, The Morales empire would rise to the highest level, and when that happened, no one can take it down." He said firmly.