Dominated by Four Dark Desires

Modern

When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married. His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope. But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search. "Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars."

Moderno

El aire en el panteón era denso, cargado de tristeza, mientras sostenía entre mis manos la pequeña urna de Leo, lo único que quedaba de mi hijo de seis años. Fue allí, en medio de mi desolación, buscando el consuelo de mi esposa Sofía, que la encontré, no llorando a nuestro hijo, sino riendo en un