He Brought His Mistress Home—So I Threw The Party He Didn’t Expect

oak doors of the mansion.

The night air hit my face. Cool, crisp, smelling of rain and wet earth. It smelled of life. It smelled of the world outside a cage I hadn’t realized I was living in until I stepped through the door.

Behind me, I heard the sound of glass shattering—likely Franco throwing a bottle against the wall. I heard Doña Matilda wailing continue reading …