Chapter 2: Echoes of Room 808
The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow from overhead's warm lights. Seated on the plush leather couch was a man whose presence seemed to command the entire space.
His chiseled features, sharp and flawless, were like something sculpted by the hands of a master artist. The tailored suit he wore clung to his firm, broad shoulders, hinting at power beneath the polished exterior.
This was Enzo Presgrave, a name synonymous with wealth, power, and mystery. Yet, his usually cool, confident eyes now held a storm of conflict as his grandmother’s stern words echoed in his mind:
Enzo, you must marry Alana Tavares. Only her. She is the only one I will accept as your wife in this family.
His jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists. Right now, however, his thoughts weren’t on marriage. They were on a haunting memory—the woman from five years ago, the one whose life he had unwittingly shattered.
That night came rushing back in vivid detail. He remembered the dimly lit room, the scent of perfume hanging in the air, and the way his vision blurred under the influence of a drugged drink. He had taken off his watch, his last tether to lucidity, and pressed it into her trembling hand before succumbing to unconsciousness.
It was a memory he could never forget and a mistake he could never erase.
Five years had passed, but he was still searching for her. The watch she had sold last week at a thrift store was the only clue he had, but it might already be too late.
The ringing of his phone shattered his thoughts. He picked it up, his voice sharp and commanding.
"What?"
"Young Mr. Enzo, we’ve found the woman who sold the watch. Her name is HeloÃsa Simões," came the reply on the other end.
Enzo’s breath hitched, and his cold demeanor thawed just enough to let a spark of hope shine. "Send me her address," he ordered, his voice tight and determined. "I’ll see her myself."
Minutes later, Enzo’s sleek black car pulled up outside a quaint boutique. Inside, HeloÃsa stood behind the counter, nervously arranging jewelry displays. Her small shop had been her lifeline for over a year, but business was slow. The financial strain was suffocating, and when she decided to sell the watch she had kept hidden for years, she never imagined it would fetch a staggering R$500,000.
The watch hadn’t been hers, but she had claimed it as her own when the nightclub staff handed it over from the lost and found. She guarded it a secret until desperation pushed her to part with it.
Last updated on May 30th, 2025 at 08:04 pm
