Mag-log inRoxana
I keep turning on my bed, Aaron’s words replaying in my head. I have to leave this house tonight. That’s the only way I can escape this arranged marriage and be with the man who truly loves me. Checking the time for the hundredth time today, I get out of bed. It’s 6pm. Almost dinnertime. Once my parents and Zendaya go to dinner, I will slip out through the back door and head straight to Aaron’s. My feet slap against the warm rug of my room as I walk into the closet. Packing a few of my clothes into a backpack, I place the bag on the bed. My hands shake as I zip it up. I heave a sigh. My eyes scan my room, the familiar fragrance filling my nose, and I briefly close my eyes to breathe it in deeply. I can’t believe I'm leaving everything behind tonight. On my dressing table are my favorite romance novels. I go over and run my fingertips across them. My heart tightens in my chest. They’re the only things I’ll miss. I open the first book. “ The beast’s angelic pet” It’s one of my favorites. About a sweet, loving princess sold to a heartless beast that everyone fears. A laugh escapes me. Turns out fairy tales exist, but mine is a nightmare, the one I'm trying to escape. Like, who still believes in arranged marriages? I slam the book shut. My eyes fall on the paper I dumped less than two hours ago. My breath catches. I put a hand on my chest. I scan my eyes over it. There are so many expectations for the bride: *The bride has to be young and cultured. *The bride has to be of noble birth. *She has to obey and submit to her husband. I keep reading, growing bored. Just as I’m about to toss it into the trash, my eyes fall on the last item on the list. *The bride has to be a virgin* My hand trembles slightly. I swallow hard, feeling a lump forming in my throat. Virgin! I can’t help but read more. It states she must be a virgin because a virgin ritual is performed on the wedding night, where the bride and groom go into a room for consummation. The groom’s family waits outside for good news. If it’s discovered that the bride isn’t a virgin, she faces harsh consequences. I read through the list of possible cruel punishments. The paper hits the floor before I realize it. Along with my jaw. I stagger, holding onto the wall for support. What did I just read? How can this be happening? My vision blurs, tears well up. How could he do this to me? Marco. He knows I'm not a virgin. He’s the only one who knows, yet he still agrees to give me to Tristan. So I could be killed? Or punished? My whole body shudders; I drop onto the bed to keep from falling. How could he be so cruel? Simply because I'm not his daughter? I wipe away the tears that have already stained my cheeks. It doesn't matter now. I'm leaving tonight. Far away from them. Far away from Tristan. And they will never see me again. I will make sure of that. A knock sounds on the door, breaking my thoughts. “Roxana, it’s your mother. Open up.” I wipe the tears with my sleeve, compose myself, then go to the door and yank it open. My mother stands there, with a fake look of concern. I know she doesn't really care about me—not as much as her first daughter. I'm a mistake. The one she regrets so deeply but has no choice but to live with. “Hi, Mom.” Her eyes scan my whole body. “Have you been crying?” I shake my head. “No, Mom.” Her shoulders sag a little. “It’s not as bad as you think. Your father and I want what’s best for you. And this is.” I almost roll my eyes. “I'm fine, Mom. I know you want what’s best for me.” She laughs, her long blonde hair—similar to Zendaya’s—bouncing as she moves. “Of course. Dinner is ready. I came to call you.” “I won’t be dining tonight. I want to sleep. See you tomorrow, Mom.” I slam the door before she can say more. I don't move until I hear her footsteps leaving, then start packing the essentials into the tiny backpack. At dinner, Marco asks my mother, “Where’s Roxana?” She shrugs, sitting beside her husband. “I think she’s having a hard time accepting her marriage to Tristan. I'm sure she’ll get over it by tomorrow.” “Are you sure?” he questions, concern flickering in his eyes. “Dad, don't worry about her. She’s not a kid,” Zendaya says, shoving a mouthful of food in her mouth. “Okay, then.” They continue eating, completely forgetting about me. A few minutes later, I'm walking away from Marco’s huge mansion. I keep going until I'm far enough from the house, then dial Aaron’s number. It’s not reachable. Shit! What am I going to do now? I don't have money for a cab Or any way to get to his place this late. As I keep pondering, the rain begins to fall. Turning the road into a blur of shadows and cold. I run for shelter, ignoring the wetness slapping against me. I find a small house, standing under the roof until the rain stops. I keep trying Aaron’s number, but it keeps ringing without answer. What am I going to do now? His house is far from here. A loud lightning strike makes me shiver, dread spreading. Drops of water hit my toes from my drenched clothes. I hug myself, the cold seeping in. While I wait for the rain to stop, a new thought hits me. Sandy’s house, just a few minutes’ walk away, could be my refuge for the night. I can leave early tomorrow. My family won't notice I’ve gone until morning, and by then, I’ll be long gone. So I run. Headed toward Sandy’s house. When I arrive, I knock on her door. A few minutes later, she peeks out, eyes wide when she sees me. “Oh my God, Rox, what happened?” “Can I come in?” I ask. She opens the door wide, and I step into her warm living room. “Come into my room. You need a shower,” she says, heading inside. I follow, wet and cold. It’s just for tonight, I tell myself. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone.TristanThe metal door to the torture room groans open and I step inside. The room smells of damp concrete and old blood. The kind of smell I'm used to. Daniel looks up immediately. He’s sitting on a wooden chair, wrists restrained in front of him, not beaten. Not yet.The moment our eyes meet, fear drains every ounce of color from his face. Good. He should be scared, because there is a certainty that he may not walk out of this room alive. I walk further into the room. Slowly, deliberately. The door clicks shut behind me. And silence settles between us. Heavy. Oppressive. The only sound in the room is the pounding of his breath. Daniel swallows, “ I.… I didn't know she was married.”I don't answer. I keep walking. Until I'm standing directly in front of him. The man my wife left me for. I stand close to him, so close he has to tilt his head back to look at me. My voice rings through the silence in the room, “You have been saying that.”His breathing becomes uneven. “It’s the tr
Tristan The tiny bedroom door slams shut behind me, the sound echoes through the hallway. I don't stop walking. One step. Two. I continue down the corridor without looking back. My jaw aches, I realize too late because I've been grinding my teeth together so hard I might crack them. The guards lower their heads as I pass. No one speaks. No one dares. Good. Because if anyone says a single word, I might kill them. The corridor stretches endlessly before me, every step should make me feel better. It doesn't. My hands still smell like her. My clothes. My body. Every single thing. My knuckles clench beside me. Making sharp pain jolt through my body. I stop and look down, blood. Mine. The cuts across my knuckles have opened again. I don't remember the last time I hit the wall that hard. I don't remember the last time I got so angry that I could have killed her right on that spot. The pain in my hand is nothing. In fact, not enough. Not enough to numb the one spreading through m
Roxana My entire body trembles violently. What the hell is going on? Another knock rumbles through the room. My legs dash to the door, before I reach it, the door opens from outside and I come face to face with Tristan. Looking disheveled. Exactly like a devil set to ruin and destroy. I take a step back instinctively, “W…. what’s the problem?”He doesn’t answer, instead, he steps into the room and slams the door shut, locking both of us inside the tiny room. Silence falls until it becomes uncomfortable, the only sound in the room is the thumping of my heart. I try again, “Is there a problem?”He says nothing, only walks further into the room, straight towards me. I take a step back again, then two, I keep taking until my back hits the wall.“You think you can keep running away from me right? You fucking slut.”Something painful crashes into me, my gaze drops to my feet as I try to force back the tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry.”Tristan stands in front of me, so close our b
RoxanaThe gates open silently. The mansion rises from the darkness exactly as I remember it — cold, silent, beautiful. Home.No. Not home anymore.The SUV rolls to a stop beneath the entrance. Nobody comes outside to greet us. No lights flood the front steps. No warm voices. Nothing.The engine dies. For several long seconds, no one moves.Then Tristan opens the door and steps out. I follow because I know better than to hesitate. Panic races through my body within seconds.Neither of us speaks as we climb the marble steps. The guards outside straighten immediately.“Boss.”Tristan doesn’t answer. He walks past them without slowing.The front doors open. The familiar entrance hall stretches before me — chandeliers, the grand staircase, the polished marble floor.Everything looks exactly the same. But I don’t belong in it anymore. I stop walking.Memories hit too fast — laughing with Texas on those stairs, his mother teasing us at breakfast. It feels like someone else’s life.“Move.” H
Roxana I don’t remember leaving the apartment. One moment I'm standing in the middle of the destroyed room. The next, I'm following Tristan. Every step feels unreal. The shattered furniture, the broken bowl of soup Maria had made for me, the tiny pieces of reference letter scattered across the floor. The little life I’ve built in Mexico…. Gone. Just like that. No goodbye, no explanation, nothing. My eyes sting again. I deserve this—every bit of it. I betrayed the man who has ever looked at me like I mattered. The man who showed me he loved me without saying it. Because I was too stupid, too self-centered. The hallway is silent except for the rain hammering against the windows. Daniel. My heart clenches. I twist around instinctively. He’s standing several meters away beside Dmitry. Alive. Thank God. His face is pale. Confused. Terrified. Our eyes meet. “ I'm sorry.” I mouth. He doesn't understand. How could he? All he does is give me the smallest nod as though he’
Tristan The room falls into silence. Only the rain remains; it batters against the window, the roof, whatever is left of my sanity. The front door slams shut behind Dmitry; his voice disappears into the hallway. Now, it’s only her, the woman I crossed continents to find. Just us. She stands there trembling, red eyes, tear-stained cheeks— the same face I spent weeks imagining covered in blood. The same woman I nearly burned the world down for. I stare at her. She can't even meet my eyes. “Tristan….” My name. God. She still says my name the same way, as if nothing happened, as if she didn't disappear or that I didn't find another man holding her. “Please….” Her voice shakes so badly it barely sounds like hers. “I'm sorry.” I laugh—a quiet, empty, hopeless laugh. “Sorry?” She nods frantically, “Yes, I'm sorry.” “You are sorry.” Another laugh escapes me, this one broken. “So that’s it?” She takes another careful step toward me. “I can explain.” “No.” “I made a m
RoxanaIs something wrong with my eyes? Or is what I'm seeing real?I stare down at the paper in front of me, blinking a few times.This can't be real. There's no way I'm getting married to Tristan Kozlov—the ruthless and dangerous first son of the Kozlov Russian mafia. I know my stepfather is try
Roxana This is a nightmare! What did he say? Claim me? He’s acting like I’m something to be claimed. I open my mouth to argue but snap it shut. I know better than to argue with Tristan. “Don’t punish me, please….” My voice breaks, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears. “ I will.” With
Roxana I slam my hand over my mouth to stop from screaming as the scene unfolds before me. Tears choke me. My knees buckle, and my entire body shakes uncontrollably. Is this a nightmare? A lump forms in my throat. I can already feel wetness staining my cheeks. This is the man I love so much—th
Tristan My phone buzzes, waking me. I ignore it, opening my eyes for a moment and staring into the blank space. It buzzes again. This time, I stretch my hand to the bedside drawer and pick it up. There are several texts from my brothers, my mother, and all the family members. *We are in your li
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