C1 Crash and burn

Daphne

My hands were shaking so badly I almost tore the buttons off my blouse.

“Daph, what are you doing?” Patrick’s voice cracked from behind me. He sounded confused, almost alarmed. “Why are you—oh, my God, are you—”

“Take off your shirt,” I whispered frantically, my voice breaking. “Now.”

He blinked, frozen where he stood. “What—”

“Patrick, please.” I turned to face him, standing there in nothing but my underwear, heart pounding like a war drum. “Get on the bed. Just do it.”

Patrick’s brows drew together, confusion and panic warring on his face. But he obeyed. We’d been friends since college — he knew when not to ask questions. He climbed onto the bed stiffly, looking everywhere but at me.

“Daph—”

“Don’t talk,” I hissed, because I could already hear the familiar rhythm of polished shoes on marble tiles coming down the hall.

Antonio’s footsteps.

God, no. Not yet. Not now.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Every breath hurt. Every second stretched into an eternity. I climbed onto the bed, straddling Patrick just as the doorknob turned.

And then the door opened.

“Daphne?” Antonio’s voice sliced through the silence, confused and disbelieving. I didn’t dare look up. His presence filled the room — the air grew heavy, electric. I could feel his eyes on us. My throat tightened so painfully I thought I’d choke.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I slammed my lips against Patrick’s.

His startled gasp was swallowed by the sound of our fake kiss — desperate, frantic, wet. My hands gripped his shoulders, and I forced myself to move, to make it look real. To make it hurt.

Antonio didn’t speak for a long, shattering second. When he finally did, his voice was low, raw, and shaking.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It broke me.

I pulled away from Patrick, panting. My heart screamed at me to stop. To tell the truth. To run to him.

But I couldn’t. Not when everything I touched turned to ruin.

“Wait for me in the car,” I murmured to Patrick, forcing a trembling smile as if nothing was wrong. “Please.”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking from me to Antonio, then nodded and slipped out silently.

And then it was just Antonio and me.

He looked wrecked. His dark hair was messy, his tie undone, his jaw tight enough to crack. His usually sharp brown eyes looked glassy, almost lost.

“Daph…” His voice cracked. “Why? What—what is this?”

I wanted to scream because I love you.

But I swallowed the words like poison.

Instead, I lifted my chin and said coldly, “I should’ve gotten engaged to Patrick when my father asked me to. Would’ve saved me a lot of time.”

He flinched as if I’d slapped him. “What are you talking about? What’s going on with you? If there’s something wrong, we can fix it. Just—tell me what you need, and I’ll—”

“I need you to stop pretending we’re right for each other,” I cut him off sharply, my voice shaking despite my best effort. “We’re engaged, Antonio, but we both know this isn’t going anywhere. You’re broke. You’re chasing investors who don’t even call you back. I can’t—”

I exhaled shakily. “I can’t marry someone who’s drowning and expects me to drown with him.”

His eyes darkened with pain. “I told you, I’d take care of you. I’d work harder, I—”

“No.” I forced the word out. “You can’t fix this. You can’t fix you. And I’m done pretending you can.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Just looked at me — at the woman he loved, standing half-dressed, eyes cold, heart breaking beneath the surface. The silence between us was unbearable.

He took a step closer, voice low and trembling. “So that’s it? You’re just… done?”

I nodded. My throat felt tight. “It’s over.”

I walked past him toward the door. His hand brushed my wrist — a gentle, pleading touch — and it took everything in me not to turn around. When I reached the front door, I could hear him following me.

“Daphne, wait,” he said hoarsely. “Please. Don’t—don’t do this.”

I turned, my heart fracturing as I saw the faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.

It was the same look he’d had when he’d first told me he loved me — earnest, pure, believing that love could conquer anything.

And I had to destroy it.

I slipped the engagement ring from my finger and threw it at him. It clattered to the floor between us, cold and final.

“I don’t want to be with you while you crash and burn.”

His breath caught. His face crumpled — not with anger, but with disbelief. With heartbreak.

I turned before he could see the tears spill down my cheeks and walked straight to Patrick’s car. The moment the door shut behind me, I broke.

I pressed my face into my hands and sobbed until my lungs hurt.

Because I loved him.

And I’d just ruined him.

I could still see his face in my mind — the confusion, the devastation. I wanted to run back, to tell him the truth: that my father’s company was collapsing, that Galanis Corporation was being investigated for fraud, that every headline would soon carry our name like a curse.

And that I couldn’t drag Antonio into that ruin with me.

He deserved better.

He deserved a clean slate. Investors. A future.

Not a fiancée whose father was going to prison.

So I had to be the villain. The cold, heartless woman who broke his heart so he could move on and thrive.

Except… I couldn’t move on.

---

Five days later, the universe delivered the final blow.

I’d eaten something bad, or maybe my body had just given up — either way, I found myself hunched over the bathroom sink, vomiting blood. Patrick rushed me to the hospital, panic etched all over his face.

The sterile smell of disinfectant filled my nose as I lay on the hospital bed, weak and trembling. My body ached. My chest burned.

When the doctor came in, his expression was soft, careful. Too careful.

“Miss Galanis,” he began, flipping through a chart. “You were pregnant.”

I blinked at him, numb. “Was?”

He sighed. “I’m very sorry, but you lost the baby. The stress… it caused severe complications. There’s also scarring. Carrying a child again could be very dangerous for you.”

The words didn’t register right away. My brain refused to process them. Pregnant. Lost. Dangerous.

I stared at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights blurring into white streaks as tears slipped down my temples.

I didn’t even know. I didn’t know I was carrying a piece of him inside me.

And now it was gone.

Just like him.

---

Three years later, everything about my life had changed — or maybe it had just… crumbled.

My father was in prison. Galanis Corporation was a ghost. Every friend I used to have had vanished, afraid the scandal would stain them too.

I’d gone from designer heels and charity galas to secondhand clothes and instant noodles. I’d applied to a hundred jobs. Rejected by ninety-nine.

Until one company finally hired me — Nikolaou Holdings.

I didn’t know much about the owner except that he was powerful, elusive, and terrifyingly rich. I didn’t even care. I just needed the paycheck.

The irony of working myself to the bone for a faceless man didn’t hit me until much later — when I found out whose empire I’d just walked into.