Santiago’s jaw tightened as he leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. His eyes bore into Esmeralda, filled with frustration and a trace of hurt. “Was this why you cut all ties with me?” he asked, his voice cold but tinged with something deeper. “I tried to reach you, Esme. For months. I called, left messages. Hell, I even reached out to Enrico. But it was clear, you wanted nothing to do with me. Was it because of the child?”
Esmeralda held her ground, her expression unreadable. “I have my own life to live,” she said firmly. “I was clear when I said it was over between us.”
Santiago’s gaze darkened, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. “So that’s it?” he asked, his voice laced with bitterness. “Diego dies, and suddenly I’m useless to you?”
She flinched slightly at his words
