When Destiny Misfires

Kabanata 1

Chapter 1: Dine

I just kept staring at him, disbelief clearly written all over my face. But he just stood there, looking at me like I was a stranger he bumped into on a random night in Rome.

I cleared my throat and quickly averted my gaze. I hadn't heard anything about him since the last time I visited. My parents didn't even tell me he had been released from prison.

Is that why Mom and Dad have been constantly fighting? Because this jerk is finally free?

I was about to walk away because I couldn't handle seeing him. I didn't even want to be in the same room with him. But before I could take a step, someone pulled me back.

"Got you, babe," the creep from earlier whispered before kissing my neck—right in front of Mr. Santiago.

My eyes widened in shock; my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't even scream. I just stood there... frozen...

Allesteve didn't move either; he just stood there, staring, his expression unreadable.

"Let's go, babe. I know you'll like what we're gonna do." The guy grinned and yanked my arm again at doon lang ako tuluyang natauhan.

"Let me go!" I shouted, struggling against his grip. I tried to knee him, aiming for his groin, but he dodged it.

Tears welled in my eyes. I was scared. I felt powerless...

Then, all of a sudden, someone pulled me away and stepped in front of me, shielding me from him.

It was... Mr. Santiago.

"What the hell is your problem, dude?" the pervert snapped.

"You're forcing her. Isn't it obvious she doesn't want to go with you?" Mr. Santiago's voice was low and threatening.

"She's my girlfriend. We just had a misunderstanding. That's all," the guy lied.

I scoffed. "Excuse me? I'm not your girlfriend. I don't even know your name!"

Mr. Santiago raised an eyebrow at me, like he wasn't sure whether to believe me. But then he turned back to the guy.

"Sorry, dude. She says she doesn't know you. That's enough for me."

"Puoi darmi quella donna, cazzo?!" the guy barked in Italian.

Mr. Santiago smirked. "Scusa, ma non rinuncerò mai alla mia donna con te." And with that, he took my hand and pulled me out of the bar.

He didn't say a word, he just held my hand as we walked. His grip was firm. Almost too firm. When we reached a quiet street, I pulled my hand away.