The First Bite of Betrayal
The next morning, San Martin stirred awake to the familiar smell of freshly baked bread drifting from the plaza and the briny whisper of the sea curling through the narrow pathways. Oriana walked toward the shoreline with her basket of fish balanced neatly on her hip, her movements soft and graceful like the tide itself.
But today, something inside her felt different and unsteady.
Yesterday's walk with Tavian replayed in her mind like sunlight warmed against her skin, yet beneath that warmth lay a quiet dread she could not name.
Inside their hut, Grandma Gina observed her with an uneasy stillness.
"Oriana," she said, voice low but edged with warning, "walk carefully today. Not every smile in this town carries kindness. And not every heart is as honest as Tavian's."
Oriana forced a small smile, hoping it might calm the ache in her chest.
"I'll be careful, grandmother. I promise."
She stepped into the bustle of the town, greeting vendors with her usual kindness. But the wind felt strange, too sharp, too knowing as if the sea itself had whispered a warning she didn't yet understand.
At the market, Oriana's steps slowed.
A woman stood at a fruit stall, elegant as a porcelain doll and twice as cold. Vionna. Her eyes sharp, calculating locked onto Oriana like a hawk sizing up prey.
When Oriana approached, Vionna's lips curved into a smile so sweet it nearly stung.
"So this is the little beach girl," she murmured, just loud enough. "The one Tavian seems enchanted by."
Oriana dipped her head. "Good morning, ma'am."
"How polite," Vionna said, tilting her head. "But tell me, little one, do you understand the kind of world you're stepping into? Tavian's world is not meant for the unpolished."
The words hit Oriana with quiet force, but she held her ground.
"I only live truthfully, ma'am. I mean no harm."
Vionna's lashes lowered, her voice turning silk around steel.
"Innocence can be dangerous. Especially when it gets in the way of what I want."
Before Oriana could reply, Vionna turned and walked away, leaving a thin trail of ice behind her.
Oriana breathed slowly, steadying her trembling fingers.
She refused to let fear swallow her day.
Hours passed, the market humming with activity. Then..
"Oriana!"
Tavian's voice cut through the noise like a beam of sunlight breaking storm clouds. He hurried toward her, eyes warm, smile earnest.
"I just wanted to see you," he confessed, gently taking her hand. "To make sure you're alright."
Just like that, Oriana felt her world soften again.
"I'm fine," she said shyly, though her heart fluttered wildly.
But hidden behind a stand of oranges, Vionna watched them.
Every glance.
Every touch.
Every smile.
Her nails dug into her palm, a cruel idea forming in the shadows of her mind.
"If I cannot have him," she whispered, voice dripping venom, "no one will."
That evening, Oriana returned home drained, her legs heavy, her heart heavier. Grandma Gina noticed immediately.
"Child, what troubles you?"
Oriana hesitated, then exhaled shakily.
"Grandmother, I think someone wants to hurt me. Not with hands, but with envy."
Grandma Gina's expression hardened.
"Vionna Cruz! Tavian's fiancée," she said flatly. "That woman is a storm wrapped in silk. Beautiful, yes but dangerous. She sees you as an obstacle. And obstacles, she removes."
Fear pricked Oriana's chest but so did something new.
Determination.
"I won't let her take what Tavian and I are building," Oriana whispered, surprising even herself. "I will not run."
Grandma Gina squeezed her hand.
"And that, child, is where your strength begins. Not from riches. Not from power. But from courage."
That night, while the waves crashed fiercely against the shore, Oriana lay awake.
The world had shifted.
Vionna's shadow had crept into her life.
But for the first time, Oriana felt the fire within her rise.
She would not hide.
She would not break.
And she would not lose the one thing her heart had finally found.
Even if the storm came for her
She said the same way, just send it! would rise.