Two weeks later, the air in the city felt different—reborn, much like the Golden Castello.
The grand reopening was a whirlwind of polished brass, high-end spirits, and the frantic energy of a kitchen pushed to its limits.
Alejandra moved with clinical precision, her hands moving through ingredients, yet the line was dangerously thin.
They were short on staff, and the pressure was rising like steam in a pressure cooker.
"Need some help?"
The voice at the door acted like a reset button.
Sunny stood there, looking slightly paler than usual but wearing a smile that could outshine the new chandeliers.
"Sunny!" Mariana cried out. The kitchen erupted.
The staff, usually bound by Alejandra's iron discipline, abandoned their stations to swarm the girl they thought they'd lost.
"Did you think I'd miss this?" Sunny laughed as Ines and Mariana nearly squeezed the life out of her.
"Sorry I'm late. I had to handle something first."
"Too tight!" Sunny gasped as the hugs grew more frantic.
"We were worried sick," Ines whispered, wiping a stray tear.
"Thank you all for visiting me," Sunny said, her eyes drifting toward Alejandra, who stood at the center of the kitchen, frozen.
"The hospital was a lot less lonely because of you."
"Has the wound healed?" Samuel asked, his voice full of genuine concern.
"Not fully, but I'm functional," she replied.
Alejandra cleared her throat, the sharp sound slicing through the sentimentality.
"Ahem. The dining room is full. Back to work."
N nThe crew scattered, but the atmosphere had shifted.
The 'grey and thin' world Alejandra had been living in for the last fortnight suddenly felt vivid again.
"What can I do, Chef?" Sunny asked.
"Help me stir-fry the noodles," Ines interjected before Alejandra could speak.
As Sunny rolled up her sleeves and took her place at the station, Alejandra found herself distracted.
She stole glances at the way Sunny handled the wok, the effortless grace of her movements.
When did the entire kitchen visit her? Alejandra wondered, a prickle of something like jealousy sparking in her chest.
I couldn't even bring myself to walk through the hospital doors, yet she's been flooding my mind for seven days straight.
Looking at her now... I'm captivated.
The night was a triumph. As the last guest departed, the staff collapsed around a large communal table, bottles of beer and wine appearing as if by magic.
Sunny's phone buzzed on the wood. She answered, her voice softening into that 'Mama Bear' tone.
"Mama Bear, when are you coming home?" Sofia's voice was loud enough for the table to hear.
"I don't like you staying out late."
"Baby, I'm not done yet. I'll come straight home when we close," Sunny promised.
"No! I want you home now!"
"Patience, baby."
"Fine," the child huffed. "But you have to buy ice cream and pizza as compensation."
"Ice cream? At midnight?" Sunny groaned, but everyone at the table could see she was already losing the argument.
"Okay, you win. One hour. I love you too. Kisses."
She hung up to find the table staring at her.
"Mhmm," Samuel teased, nudging her. "Is the boyfriend calling you home already?"
"I'm so jealous," Mariana added, winking. "The girl with the secret love life."
"No, you misunderstand—"
A ping from Alejandra's phone killed the conversation. It was a text from Abuela.
Alejandra's jaw tightened, the exhaustion of her double life settling back onto her shoulders.
"A toast!" Samuel shouted, sensing the dip in energy. He raised his glass.
"To Sunny, for not dying on us. You're a valuable member of this crew now. And to the Chef, for giving us our jobs back!"
The staff cheered, the alcohol flowing freely. Hours passed, and the celebration turned into a blurred haze of laughter.
One by one, the staff stumbled into cabs, until only Sunny remained, slumped over the table, her head resting on her arms.
Her phone rang again. It was Audrey, and she sounded like she was vibrating with anxiety.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"I'm at work," Sunny whispered into the phone, her words slurred and melodic.
"Send me your location."
"Nooo," Sunny giggled. "You might kidnap me."
"Shit!" Audrey hissed and hung up. Forty-five minutes later, the front door of the Golden Castello was thrown open.
Audrey marched in, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Sunny.
"You really are a lightweight," Audrey sighed, rushing to her side.
"Baby! You came for me!" Sunny chirped, reaching up to pat Audrey's cheek.
Alejandra emerged from her office at the sound of the intrusion, her hand instinctively drifting to the small of her back where her weapon was holstered.
"Who the hell are you?"
"This is my girlfriend!" Sunny blurted out happily, pointing at Audrey with a shaky finger.
Audrey didn't look up, busy trying to steady Sunny. "Yeah, we know. Sit still."
Alejandra froze. The word girlfriend felt like a physical blow to her stomach, an irrational sting she couldn't explain.
She relaxed her stance, but her eyes remained cold.
"Sweetie pie... ice cream... pizza..." Sunny mumbled into Audrey's shoulder.
"I took care of it, Sunny. It's at home."
"You're a superhero," Sunny sighed, gazing at Audrey with glazed eyes.
"Are you here to rescue my heart?"
"This is why I hate it when you drink," Audrey muttered.
Sunny suddenly turned her head toward Alejandra.
"Hey! Look at my boss. Isn't she the most beautiful creation of the Lord? I wish I could just ki—"
Audrey slapped a palm over Sunny's mouth. Sunny immediately licked it.
"Eww! If you weren't drunk, I'd give you a punishment so bad you'd wake up sober," Audrey growled.
"Ohh," Sunny purred, muffled by the hand.
"Are you going to tie me to the bedpost?"
Alejandra watched the exchange, her pulse hammering.
Was she making her jealous on purpose? Was this all a performance?
"Handcuffs this time," Audrey countered, hauling Sunny up.
"Let's go home... you'll do that thing I like," Sunny said, tripping as they moved toward the door.
Audrey caught her effortlessly and hoisted her onto her back for a piggyback ride.
Alejandra stood in the middle of her new restaurant, surrounded by the scent of expensive wine and the echoes of Sunny's laughter.
A couple? A lesbian? The questions swirled in her mind like smoke.
The next morning was a symphony of hangovers and high stakes.
Ariana had taken few drinks with Sunny last night and now she's paying the price.
She arrived at Roberto's office to drop off the final documents, her head throbbing.
She hadn't even crossed the threshold when a blur of silk and perfume intercepted her.
Slap.
The sound echoed in the quiet hallway.
Ariana's head snapped to the side, her cheek blooming with fire.
"It was YOU!" Jessica screamed.
"What was that for?" Ariana gasped, clutching her face.
Roberto lunged from his desk, his eyes wide.
"You're the one in these pictures, aren't you?" Jessica shoved the paparazzi shots into Ariana's face.
"The 'fiancée.' And it was you in the hotel, wasn't it?"
"I don't understand," Ariana stammered. "I've never been to a hotel with him."
"Don't lie! You were at the bar, then his house!" Jessica threw another set of photos onto the floor—clear shots of Ariana and Roberto entering his private residence.
Ariana looked at the photos, then at Roberto. The betrayal felt cold.
He had promised her she was safe, that her face wasn't visible.
"Jessica, get out," Roberto roared. "I never want to see you again!"
Ariana didn't wait. She dropped the remaining files on the table and turned to run.
If she leaves now, Roberto thought, a cold panic seizing him, I'll lose her forever.
He reached out, grabbing her wrist—not with the violence of before, but with a terrifying, fragile softness.
"Ariana, please. Wait."
Jessica let out a jagged, hysterical laugh.
"You've never begged a soul in your life, Roberto. Not even your mother. And you're begging this... this trash?"
The word snapped something in Roberto.
He turned and struck Jessica across the face, the force sending her to the floor.
Ariana watched the scene, her blood running cold. This wasn't protection; this was a different kind of danger.
Roberto pulled out his phone, his voice shaking with a dark, redirected fury as he called security to dispose of the woman on the floor.
The security team arrived like a physical tide, their boots echoing against the marble.
"Get her out of this building," Roberto commanded, his voice trembling with a dark, cold frequency.
"I never want to see her set foot in this company again. If she breathes the air in this lobby, you are all unemployed. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," they murmured, hoisting a shrieking Jessica off the floor.
Her heels scraped against the carpet as they dragged her toward the elevators, her threats fading into the hum of the air conditioning.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.
Ariana turned toward the door, her hands shaking as she reached for the knob.
She needed to breathe; she needed to vanish.
"Ariana, please. Let me explain," Roberto said, moving to block her.
He placed his hand over hers on the handle, a physical barrier she couldn't bypass.
"Don't leave. Just listen."
"You slapped her," Ariana whispered, staring at the wood of the door. Her voice was thin, fragile.
"I lost control. I wasn't thinking," he pleaded, his breath warm against her hair.
"She called you names. I couldn't stand it."
"I knew returning here was a mistake," she said, finally looking up at him.
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"You claim to protect me, but so far, you are the only one creating problems in my life."
"I wanted to tell you about that night at the bar," Roberto said, his gaze desperate.
"I wanted to tell you so badly, but I didn't want you to see me differently. I didn't want to lose the way you looked at me."
"And the proposal? You told her you proposed to me." Ariana's voice rose, fueled by a sudden, jagged anger.
"Why? Why do you always make decisions without considering anyone else's feelings? Am I just a shield for you to hide behind?"
"I just wanted to get her off my back, Ariana."
"So I'm just a back door? A convenience?" She pulled her hand from beneath his. "I hate you, Roberto."
Before she could move, he pulled her into a fierce embrace.
He held her as if she were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.
"You are not a convenience. I want to keep you by my side. I want yours to be the first face I see every morning and the last thing I see before I close my eyes at night. I don't want a back door; I want you."
Ariana stood rigid in his arms for a moment before pushing him away.
She smoothed her blazer, her expression hardening into a mask of professional ice.
"Mr. Roberto, I think I'll have my resignation letter on your desk by tomorrow morning."
"No shenanigans. I promise," he said, his voice cracking.
"Just... sit. Please. Talk to me."
Obediently, though her heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs, Ariana sat on the edge of the leather couch.
"Tell me the truth. What happened that night at your house?"
"You said you wanted to leave it in the past," Roberto reminded her, his shadow stretching across the office floor.
"I want to know," she insisted.
Roberto took a deep breath, his eyes calculating, weighing the cost of honesty.
"I found you at the bar that night. You were drunk—well beyond caring—and some guy was hitting on you. I stepped in. I asked for your address, but you couldn't remember where you lived. I couldn't leave you there, so I brought you to my home."
"And then?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I brought you home, and you went to bed."
Ariana narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."
"What? How can you say that?"
"When you lie, you pause before you finish the sentence," she said, her voice steady.
"I've worked for you long enough to know your lies, Mr Roberto. What happened?"
Roberto sighed, the sound echoing in the high-ceilinged room.
"When we got home, I went to shower. While I was gone, you found the beer in my fridge and drank nearly all of it. I tried to stop you, but you were adamant. I sat with you so you wouldn't feel lonely, but then..." He paused, his gaze dropping to his shoes.
"You asked me to hug you."
"Did you?"
"Yes. You asked me never to abandon you like everyone else did. You told me you felt useless. I couldn't stand hearing you talk about yourself that way. I was so overwhelmed by your sadness that I... I kissed you."
The air in the room seemed to vanish.
"We kissed?"
"Yes. But you fell asleep almost immediately after. I put you to bed. I swear to you, we didn't have a one-night stand. But after that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for a single second. For three months it kept replaying in my head."
"Please, stop," Ariana said, raising a hand. "I've heard enough."
"I know you're disgusted," Roberto said, stepping toward her.
"But give me a chance. Let me show you—"
"I want things to go back to the way they were," she interrupted.
"Before the bar. Before the photos."
"Things can never be the same," Roberto said, his voice turning low and possessive.
"After everything that has happened, 'normal' is gone. We've passed the point of boss and employee."
"That is exactly what we are," she countered.
"I will do anything to keep you close," he vowed.
Ariana paused. She remembered what Sunny had told her: Show him you have the dignity of a woman.
Don't let him think he can buy your heart.
She stood up, tall and resolute.
"Mr. Roberto, do not mistake me for one of those girls you can buy with a gesture or a bank statement. If you think I'll fall for this charade just because you're bored with your social life, you are delusional. I am not part of your games. I am your employee, not your puppet."
She walked toward the door, her hand firm on the knob this time.
"I have to get back to work. I expect you to snap back to reality before the afternoon is out."
"Ariana," he called out, his voice soft, wounded.
She didn't turn back. "You have a meeting at two o'clock. Don't be late."
She stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.
The "grey and thin" world was still there, but for the first time, Ariana felt like she was the one holding the brush.