millionaire heiress

Karen that I started not recognizing the womanizing and uncommitted man I had been before her. If I had known that my happiness could be numbered, I would not have made the choices I made. I wouldn't have.

wanted to be happier than I already was, because I feel like it was my ambition that took away everything I cared about in the world. Even though people said it was too early and that we both needed some alone time

before the kids, my wife and I were dying to have our frst heir. So we both ignored the intrusion of the people.

around us and went to the doctor to fnd out if the heart problem would be a risk to his life and that of the possible baby. Even though I really wanted to be a father at the time, I knew that I would never try anything if I suspected that everything could end the way it did. But we were assured that my wife could have a peaceful

pregnancy without risks for her or the baby if we followed medical recommendations and she received the necessary treatment. The gestation period was magical for both of us. The pregnancy confrmation came.

three months after we started trying and we were so happy that we started dedicating all our free time to our son. Like silly frst-time parents, we took courses, went shopping and decorated the baby's room with our own

hands. I went to every appointment, felt every touch and loved him from the frst moment. I remember as if it were yesterday the day she entered the operating room to deliver the baby and how her eyes were shining.

She entered the maternity ward smiling at me and that was the last smile I got from the woman I loved. It was the last time I saw her alive. They said the cardiac arrest was a fatality that could have happened to a woman

without any pre-existing illnesses, but I could never convince my mind and heart of that. I can't move forward.

without remembering that I lost my wife and my son in one fell swoop. As if it were a punishment for something unforgivable I did, I couldn't even see my baby alive. They left without me and I have nightmares almost every day about the image of earth being thrown over their cofns. Whenever I visit their tombstones, I

feel a stab of pain so sharp that it takes my breath away. Whenever I see happy people, I feel like I'm betraying their memories for the simple fact that I wish I could forget the empty, sad man I've become for at least a few minutes. So I became a man that few want to be around and I started dedicating myself completely to my

work. Before I met Karen, my life was my restaurant and partying on the weekends. After I loved her I started.

dividing my time, but everything went back to normal when I lost her. I do nothing but work and I feel like that's

what I need to forget that I'm still alive and that I have a heart that bleeds in my chest. Because I only thought about my typical local food restaurants, I made the decision to expand my horizons and open a branch in one of the largest capitals in the country. The chosen one is the capital of São Paulo and, between one

appointment and another, I ended up meeting Carlos again when I arrived last week, an old friend I met during.

the months I lived here to do a specialization in Japanese food a year before. to meet my wife. He is more than an acquaintance, Carlos became my closest friend and that has never changed. Carlos was the one who perfectly matched my party side and it was with him that I discovered all the clubs here. We didn't lose

contact with each other after I returned to Espírito Santo, which is why I accepted the invitation to have lunch with your parents as soon as I arrived a few days ago. Mr. and Mrs. Botelho are very kind people who treated

me like family every time we were together. I haven't had the opportunity to meet the adopted sister yet.

considering she's never home, but my friend talks about her so much that it feels like I know her intimately.

Not that anything about her personality interests me. I just laugh at the stories Carlos tells, just like I would laugh at a teenage sister if I had one. But I don't always like Carlos. Now, for example, I hate him for making.

me come here. He knows my story, he's smart enough to understand my mood without me having to open my mouth to say something, but today he took it upon himself to try to cheer me up. Not only did I not say that nothing would be able to alleviate the feeling that my soul was being torn apart every moment for twelve

months, but I accepted one of his many invitations to go out. I did it with the intention of making him realize that it was useless to keep trying to get me out of the deep end. Now I'm here alone and licking my own wounds while drinking. At least I can breathe a sigh of relief that he thought only with the head of his dick and disappeared behind a skirt fve minutes after we arrived. On the other hand, I haven't left my seat for an hour.

No matter how much I drink, I can't feel like I'm drunk enough. I'm also tired of ignoring covetous glances from women who don't interest me. That's why I choose to keep my head down, as if there's something very

interesting to look at at the bar. I feel the exact moment the atmosphere changes around me. First I smell an almost citrusy scent with something sweet, a smell that makes the invisible hairs on the back of my neck

stand up instantly. The immediate reaction makes me want to lift my head and stare at the woman who just sat down in the empty chair next to me at the bar, but I stop myself from making it look like I want to meet her.

When she fnishes settling down next to me, she's as still as I am and that's actually comforting in a way. I know she is a woman, because this good perfume could never be confused with something masculine. The

two of us spend several minutes side by side without moving, so still that others might believe we're not breathing. But there comes a moment when curiosity gets the better of me, so I lift my head discreetly and turn my face toward her. Sensing my movement, the woman also moves and looks directly into my eyes. I am

taken by surprise by the beauty of a young woman with fair skin, brown eyes and hair as far as I can see in the dimly lit place. The girl is really beautiful and I couldn't help but notice, because even my miserable state didn't

make me blind. What's strange is thinking that I've seen many beautiful girls like her and none of them caused.

any reaction in me. What really catches my attention are the red eyes, which betray the fact that she had just cried, and the deep sadness that I identify on her face. I live with pain every day and I don't wish the same for anyone else, but something in me rejoices and feels relieved knowing I'm not the only one broken in a place

only happy people should go. - Martino, pour me a glass of beer, please - the woman asks, without taking.

her eyes off me. - Beer? You never miss anything that strong," the bartender says and lets me know she's a regular. - I know, but today I want something different. - For some r

several minutes moping and struggling to get away from women, but now here I am: becoming the target of one who looks too young to even be in a nightclub. - Why are you looking at me? - she questions, breaking

the silence between us. - I believe I can ask you the same question, right? - I return, fnding a little amusement in his pert little nose. The girl seems emotionally destroyed, but remains beautiful and proud. -

You are very beautiful and I am not blind. Now it's your turn to answer my question - she says, without looking away from mine when the waiter places her drink on the counter. - You're also very beautiful, but I'm not interested. - I'm acting like an asshole by talking like this when the girl hasn't even shown interest in me,

but I'd rather rush in than have to deal with misunderstandings later. - Who said I'm interested? Just so you know, I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me with one of my friends and I want to distance myself from

men. Including you. - Were you crying for the asshole? What is this girl doing to me? Suddenly, the man who.

shies away from small talk with strangers is striking up a conversation. This is not me. - Well, those two traitors don't even deserve my tears. - They really don't deserve it - I comment, as I order another beer. -

You don't look well either. Will you return my gesture and tell me why you seem unable to smile? - Today is the one-year anniversary of the death of my wife and my son - I say. I don't talk about it with many people, but I'm doing it with her. I prefer to believe that there is nothing special about the fact and that the girl is just the right person in the right place for a moment to vent. Maybe I needed that. Besides, I doubt I'll see her again.

after today. - I'm sorry - she says sincerely. The expression on her face becomes even sadder when she places her hand on top of mine to comfort me, but I pull it away immediately, as if her touch were poisonous. I

need her ears, not her comfort. - I feel it too - I declare, and I am completely left without a reaction when the young woman gets up from the chair and hugs me by the neck. Not knowing how to react, I extend my arms

and wrap my slim waist in a hug as tight as the one he's giving me. For the frst time in a year, I feel something.

warm my heart and my body. These are both physical and emotional reactions that should not be here. I feel

an almost unbearable urge to push her away from me because it's completely wrong, but I can't do it. I do the opposite by burying my nose in the space between her neck and shoulder, letting her scent penetrate my soul

for as long as the relief I feel now has to last. There's nothing romantic and special going on. We are just two desperate souls who bumped into each other along the way. When I take my head off his neck and look into

his beautiful eyes, eyes that I would never fail to recognize, my heart beats stronger because of the sincere way he looks at me. But the stranger, whose name I prefer not to know, really surprises me when she cups my

face in her small hands and simply kisses me. I react immediately by throwing my head back and moving her body away from mine. - Are you crazy, girl? "I... thought we could distract each other," she states. She at least

takes the trouble to look awkward. - We can not. I'm grieving for my late wife and you don't deserve to be used.

by me. - I'm suffering from the horn and I would also be using you - she declares, getting close to me again.

Suddenly, the young woman manages to make me feel tempted. This has never happened and I have to believe it's not about her, but about the idea of ​feeling alive for the frst time in a long time, even though the biggest part of me knows I don't deserve any of it. - You'd better go away - I say like a coward who wants to

escape the temptation and the ideas that the beautiful stranger made appear in my mind. The girl shows that she is stubborn when she not only doesn't obey me, but also when she insists on not leaving me alone with my loneliness. Then we start talking like people who have known each other for longer than a few minutes

and very quickly I start to feel connected to her in some way. Naturally, as would happen if our situation were different, she approaches me dangerously and I don't push her away. My body doesn't tense in terror whenshe touches my chest in a distracted way, and much less do I move my head away when she approaches hers

and steals another kiss. A kiss that I reciprocate this time by grabbing the hair at the back of her neck and sticking my tongue into her soft mouth. Obviously, we're both too drunk to think coherently or regret anything.

right now, but I still end the hot kiss and ask, "Are you sure?" - I hope she really understands all the implications behind my questioning when she nods in confrmation. A little dizzy from the alcoholic drink, her soft body, delicious mouth and good smell, I forget the pain of the past and even my name when I intertwine our hands and take her to a hotel room. When I get rid of your clothes and put it in your pussy without

stopping all night, I do it without being sure if I'm seeing your face or my late wife's face, but I'm able to recognize it and feel especially aroused by the sound of the your moans. I fuck the girl until I can no longer.

move my body on the bed and it's no different with her. We only stop when I fll her pussy with my cum for the last time, close to dawn. As my sweaty body falls onto the mattress, I look up at the ceiling of the hotel room and smile with satisfaction like I haven't done in a long time. Right now, I am unable to feel guilt or remember

why this was the biggest mistake of my life. As I pull her body in and hug her, I am carried away by the feeling.

that everything is back on track, but my world really comes crashing down in the morning when I wake up with

my head almost exploding from the pain of the hangover. Struggling to open my eyes, I sit up in bed and it takes me a while to understand that I'm alone in a fve-star hotel room. As I pull the silk sheet away from my waist, I almost freak out when I realize I'm naked. And even if I wasn't, the smell of sex would be enough to

give away the fact that I had sex last night. Then quick and confusing fashes begin to pop up in my mind with such intensity that they make me get up in a hurry and collapse on my knees with my head stuck in the toilet.

to vomit my guts out. The more memories of the early morning emerge, the more I vomit. Pathetically, I start.

to cry desperately for having betrayed Karen's memory on the anniversary of her death. When I feel like I have nothing to put out, I get up again and stop in front of the mirror to wash my face, but I can barely look at my refection. I made a very big mistake last night by allowing myself to weaken and experience moments of

pleasure that I didn't deserve. I wanted to be able to remove your smell and the feeling of your touch from my skin, I wanted to be able to forget everything we did during the morning

miserably. Today, for example, is one of those days. After so many years living in the United States with my daughter, I returned to Brazil and I already feel like my life is upside down. We disembarked just two hours ago and I quickly went into my usual disheveled bitch mode, pacing back and forth without stopping for a drink of water. Whenever stress comes, I do another one of my exercises to open a little smile and remind myself that

I also need to be grateful for my work as an advisor to Calvin Derek, one of the most famous pop rock singers today. It was his fame that brought me back to my country after many years of following him around the

world. With my entire life in boxes and suitcases, I have an apartment to organize and a daughter to take care

of. Yet here I am, acting like a babysitter, instead of doing more serious work than chasing a twenty-eight-year-

old man who behaves like he's ffteen. The worst part of all is that I'm almost certain it's my fault. If I didn't like.

Calvin so much and if he hadn't become more than just an employer, I would be more steady and not let him play hide and seek with me when we have important things to take care of. Like, for example, answering

questions for the reporter he wants to win over and scheduling an interview with the local broadcaster to talk.

about the tour that starts next week. - Are you sure he's not answering his cell phone? - I ask Mila, my assistant and friend who often supports my bouts of stress. Not that I take it out on her, but I imagine it must

be a pain to be my ear all the time. - I've called more than ten times, darling - she says and looks at me in a way that leaves no doubt that she's feeling sorry for me. In her place, I would also feel sorry for myself, after.

all, I have a daughter who needs my attention right now, but I can't be with her right now. All because idiot.

Calvin decided to hide like a child running away from his mother. - That idiot! Do you want to bet how much he ran after a skirt? - I ask Mila, as I lie down on the sofa in the ofce we rented for the period we will be here in

Brazil. This will be our HQ, where some decisions regarding my star's career will be made. The place proved ideal for him when I discovered that next to the ofce there was a recording studio for Calvin's rehearsals with

the band. Apart from the guy's escape, everything about our trip to Brazil was minimally planned so that there

would be no mistakes. I know this because I took care of all the details myself. In practice, despite being just the press ofcer, I take care of practically everything that concerns the man, although he has a whole team

behind the smiles that appear on TV and in the photos that are taken by fans almost every day. Even though it can be tiring, and even stressful, depending on what he gets up to that day, Calvin is more than fair and pays

me not only what I deserve for covering his shit, but much more than anyone else in my position would.

receive. . I know that not everything in life is about money, but my origins and what I could have become if I

hadn't been taken in by loving parents at the age of fve make me value everything I have, especially money. I

am aware that many other girls left in orphanages were not as lucky. - I have no doubt that he saw a girl that caught his attention and went after her without thinking that he could be leaving us like two idiots standing.

here. - Like me, Mila is already used to Calvin's lack of responsibility, but she has little patience, unlike me. At thirty-fve years old, ten years older than me, my assistant likes to say that she is at a stage in her life where she has no more nonsense. That's why she doesn't shy away from saying everything she thinks about Calvin

to his face. She stands up to him without fear of losing her job, not only because she is brave, but also because she knows that I would never allow Calvin to tell her to leave. She wouldn't let me because I couldn't.

stand injustice and because I couldn't imagine myself without my best friend. Not that Mila is taking any risks.

considering that the rock star couldn't live without her daily doses of teasing that drives the redhead crazy. -

When he shows up, I'll tell him exactly what I think about the fact that he never learned to think with his head

instead of letting himself be guided by the head of that worn-out dick. - Mila laughs at my words and I follow her. It's always like this: we stress over our irresponsible yet handsome and hot boss, but we end up laughing

at our own stress in the end. We do this because we know that it has been like this for years and that nothing.

will change. - Please, darling, try calling again - I ask, after I stop smiling like crazy. - She must be in agony

waiting in the car. I said I'd be back in fve minutes. Calvin and I agreed to drive here from the airport in separate cars. He would come in a car with the band and I would come with Mila, my daughter and her nanny in another vehicle. To my surprise, the man wasn't here when I arrived a few minutes ago. Now my baby is

moldy in the car. I bet she's throwing a tantrum at poor Nica because she fnds the different place strange. My daughter spent her fve years of life traveling from one country to another constantly and she should have

gotten used to the routine by now, but she didn't. Tammy is only okay in new places after I hug her for a while.

and explain that she doesn't need to be scared. I spend several minutes showing photos of the most beautiful tourist attractions in the countries we visited for the little one. Before we move on to the next one, I take her

for a walk around the places that catch her attention the most in photos. This time I'm not with her when she needs me most and the urge I feel now is to kill damn Calvin for being so irresponsible. He says he loves my daughter, but that's not how it seems when he keeps me away from her because of his nonsense. Deep down.

I know I'm being slightly more dramatic than I should be about the situation and that this is all to mask the pang of fear I feel about being back in my country. I've been with my parents and my dear older brother a few times in recent years, but it was brief visits that brought me a sense of security. This time, knowing that the

tour across the country will last three months and that I will live weeks and weeks in fear of bumping into the ghost of my past, I have the feeling that I won't be able to live in peace, that I won't be able to walk the streets

without looking back. all the time, waiting for a faceless, nameless man to appear out of nowhere like a horror movie villain to take my most precious possession away from me. Due to the circumstances in which she was

conceived, but mainly because she is my sweet girl, Tammy is the air I breathe and I don't know what would.

become of me if she lost her for some reason. - Why do the most beautiful women in my life seem so sullen?

- Calvin enters smiling and talking. I almost fall off the couch when I jump up quickly. As if he had done