Ana jolted awake, her breath catching in her throat as the sound of shattering glass
echoed through her mind. It was so real, so sharp that for a moment she swore the floor
beside her bed should have been littered with shards.
She sat upright, clutching her sheets, staring into the dimly lit room of the Santiago
estate. Moonlight spilled faintly through the tall windows, casting pale streaks across her
trembling hands.
It was the second time that week. The second dream of breaking glass.
The first had been subtle: the faint clink of glass slipping from a table. But this one, this
one had been violent. Wine goblets exploding, mirrors shattering into countless
fragments, a thousand reflections of her face staring back at her in anguish. And behind it all, the low murmur of a voice she could not recognize.
Ana pressed her palms to her ears, trying to block out the phantom sound. Her heart
thundered like a war drum inside her chest. Something was wrong. Something was
coming.
The Santiago estate was too quiet. No footsteps in the hall, no faint sound of servants moving about. Just silence, heavy and oppressive.
Unable to calm herself, Ana slipped from bed and walked barefoot across the cold marble floor. She pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor, its chandeliers dimmed to soft golden embers.
The house carried a scent of polished wood and roses from the gardens, but even that
comforting familiarity couldn't ease her.
She made her way down to the veranda, where the night air carried a crisp bite. She
leaned against the iron railing, staring at the gardens below. Somewhere deep in her
bones, she felt it, the storm before the storm.
***
By morning, the estate buzzed with activity. Sunlight streamed through high arched
windows, warming the grand dining room.
Gabriel Santiago sat at the head of the table, his presence larger than life. His laughter
rolled through the room as he recounted a story from his youth, his hands animated, his voice commanding.
He looked anything but ill. His eyes were bright, his posture strong, his aura as
formidable as ever. He was Gabriel Santiago, the tycoon, the patriarch, the unshakable pillar.
Ana studied him from her seat, pushing food around her plate. How could she explain her
unease? How could she tell him about the dreams without sounding childish?
"Why so quiet, hija?" Gabriel's deep voice broke into her thoughts. His sharp eyes
softened as they landed on her.
Ana forced a smile. "I just didn't sleep well."
Gabriel leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Nightmares again?"
Her lips parted in surprise. "How did you…"
"You used to run to my room when you were little, remember?" His chuckle carried
warmth, but then his tone lowered. "Dreams are the mind's way of warning us. Pay
attention to them, Ana. Especially in this family."
Ana's chest tightened. She nodded, though the weight of his words unsettled her.
From the other end of the table, Mariana Santiago, her father's second wife, watched with an unreadable expression. She stirred her coffee slowly, her perfect lips curving into a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Gabriel, you'll scare her," Mariana teased lightly, but Ana noticed the flicker of
something sharper in her stepmother's gaze.
Gabriel's hand rested briefly on Ana's shoulder as he rose. "A word of advice, Ana," he said quietly. "Trust is the most dangerous currency…
Spend it wisely."he said
And with that, he walked toward the day's waiting business, his shadow stretching long against the marble floors.
Ana stared after him, unease prickling at the back of her neck. Why did it sound like a
warning?
***
That evening, the Santiago board members and closest associates filled the dining hall.
The family gathered Alejandro, calm and seated at his father in law's right hand; Isabella, graceful as ever, her beauty sharpened by ambition; and Ana, who sat quietly beside her plate, her eyes drawn often to Gabriel.
It was supposed to be an ordinary dinner.
Laughter, discussions of business expansions, a toast to Santiago legacy. Gabriel was in fine form, wine glass raised, voice
commanding the room.
"To family," he declared. "To loyalty. To everything we've built."
Glasses clinked. Smiles spread. For a moment, Ana thought maybe she had been wrong.
Maybe her nightmares were only the echoes of her own fear.
And then it happened.
Gabriel's words faltered. His hand trembled, wine spilling onto the white tablecloth. His
face drained of color, eyes wide with sudden terror.
"Papá?" Ana shot up from her chair, panic rushing through her veins.
Gabriel clutched his chest, gasping. A heavy thud echoed as he collapsed forward onto
the table. Plates clattered, silverware scattered, and the room erupted into chaos.
"Call a doctor!" Alejandro's voice thundered as he rushed to his father in law's side. He
shook him hard. "Papá! Stay with me!"
Ana pushed past servants, falling to her knees beside Gabriel. His breathing was ragged, shallow, his lips tinged with blue.
"Papá, don't leave me," she whispered, gripping his hand. Her tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let go.
Isabella shrieked, a dramatic cry that rang hollow to Ana's ears. She pressed a delicate
hand to her chest, but her eyes, her eyes held something disturbingly calm.
And Mariana—Mariana stood frozen, her face pale, but her expression strangely
measured. No frantic tears, no desperate screams. Just a chilling stillness.
The doctors arrived swiftly, rushing Gabriel into another room, the family trailing behind
in a storm of panic.
Ana's knees gave way, and she sank against the wall, sobs racking her chest. Alejandro
paced like a caged animal, fists clenched.
Isabella clung to the arm of a servant, wailing dramatically.
Minutes passed like hours. And then the door opened.
A doctor stepped out, his eyes heavy with the weight of tragedy. "I'm… sorry. Gabriel
Santiago is gone."
The words cut through Ana like a blade. Her body went cold, her scream tearing from her
throat before she could stop it.
"No… no, no, no!" She collapsed to the ground, her sobs echoing through the hallway.
Mikel, Gabriel's business partner and friend roar shook the walls, a sound of rage and
grief fused into one. He slammed his fist against the wall, his face twisted with
devastation. Isabella's tears finally streaked down her cheeks, though her voice carried
more drama than despair.
But Mariana… merely closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, as though she had expected
this.
Ana caught the look. And something inside her snapped.
The mansion descended into mourning. Black drapes covered the windows. The halls carried the hollow sound of footsteps, whispers, and the heavy air of grief.
But Ana could not shake the unease. Her father hadn't been sick. He had been strong,
vibrant, full of life only hours before. His death didn't make sense.
She wandered the halls like a ghost, her dreams of shattering glass returning each time she closed her eyes. And each time, the image sharpened: shards falling like rain, her father's face reflected in every broken piece.
At night, she overheard hushed whispers among the staff. Words like poison. Words like murder.
Ana's grief hardened into suspicion. Someone had taken her father from her. And she was determined to uncover who.
***
That night, as the household finally settled into a restless quiet, Ana lay awake staring at the ceiling. Her eyes burned from crying, her body heavy with exhaustion, but sleep
would not come.
And then it happened.
A sharp crash. The sound of glass shattering.
Ana bolted upright, her heart hammering. The sound had come from her father's study.
Barefoot, she padded down the hall, her breaths quick and shallow. The study door was ajar, a faint draft seeping through. She pushed it open slowly.
The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight across the mahogany desk.
Papers were scattered across the floor. A glass decanter lay shattered, its contents
seeping into the carpet.
Ana stepped carefully into the room, her pulse thundering in her ears.
And then she froze.
There's someone in her father's study…searching through his documents, a figure she couldn't recognize shadowed, still, watching her.
Her blood ran cold.
"Who's there?" Her voice trembled.
The figure ran away from the back door.
Ana's breath caught as the moonlight shifted across the room… revealing the faint glint
of a ring she recognized. A Santiago family crest.
Her heart nearly stopped.