Introduction
***
¿Todo ha sido un error? ¿O quizás solo parte del destino? La ida por un vaso de agua, resultó en el inicio de un deseo culposo con consecuencias irreversibles.
Soy Erika Martín de 21 años, soy una latina, proveniente de Venezuela, me mudé de mi país buscando el sueño Americano ante una oportunidad de empleo como servicio doméstico en la mansión uzcategui, sin saber que mi destino cambiaría por completo, al conocer a Alejandro Uzcategui, el heredero y magnate de negocios más prestigioso dela ciudad, con una ciudad tan grande y él puso sus ojos en mi, su humilde y tímida empleada, que no sabe decirle que no, todo con él era perfecto, pero él tiene dos grandes defectos, es casado y jodidamente posesivo, me llama bomboncito y me reclama como suya. Estoy locamente enamorada de él y temo por la repercusiones de lo que vendrá, ya que se que no me dejará escapar, menos cuando sepa mi gran secreto.
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About Author

Isabella
Chapter 1
Advertencia
Esta novela contiene escenas de sexo explícito (+21), lenguaje fuerte y temas sensibles como la violencia, el engaño y la traición. Si eres una persona sensible a este tipo de contenido, se recomienda discreción. Pero si te atrae la pasión que rompe todas las reglas, sigue conmigo hasta el final.
Prólogo
"¡Joder! Qué apretada estás…"
Su voz, un gruñido ahogado por la urgencia, me atravesó con la misma fuerza que sus dieciocho centímetros de pura lujuria. Su aliento caliente en mi oído, su cuerpo tenso contra el mío, me decían todo lo que su mente no podía expresar en ese momento. Apreté mis piernas contra su cintura, suficientemente mojada y excitada para soportarlo, mi espalda arqueándose por cada embestida. La sorpresa era palpable en su rostro.
"¡Oh, demonios! Eres señorita, eso sí que es una sorpresa, bomboncito, pero no te preocupes, lo haré inolvidable."
Sus palabras, sus ojos, su boca, todo en él me gritaba que éramos un error, una pasión prohibida que no debió haber existido. Pero mi cuerpo, mi alma, gritaban algo más. Gritaban que este placer culposo era exactamente lo que yo quería.
Capítulo 1. Mi vida
POV Erika
Esta no es la típica historia de la protagonista que busca escalar socialmente. Mi vida es mucho más simple. Soy una mujer que vino a América a los dieciocho años en busca del sueño americano, de la mano de mi tía Martha. Me crió sola, con el amor y el rigor de una madre. Mi padre fue una ausencia, un desconocido. Mi madre, una pérdida temprana que me marcó para siempre; el cáncer de útero se la llevó cuando yo era apenas una niña, y desde entonces, mi tía se convirtió en mi única familia.
Nos vinimos a América gracias a una oportunidad única. Mi tía trabajaba en una de las mansiones más glamurosas del Hatillo, en Venezuela, y se había ganado la confianza de la dueña, la matriarca de la familia, una mujer que le tenía tanto aprecio que la consideraba una amiga. Después de graduarme del colegio, mi tía me ayudó a conseguir un puesto en la misma casa. Juntas, trabajábamos para salir adelante. Mi objetivo era simple: ganar suficiente dinero para pagar mis estudios universitarios. En Venezuela, la carrera de diseño gráfico, mi gran pasión, era un lujo que pocos podían permitirse, pero yo estaba decidida a ser una de esas pocas. El trabajo en la mansión me pagaba bien, y por fin vi un futuro tangible.
Ese futuro se hizo aún más brillante cuando la matriarca, en un acto de fe y amistad, le ofreció a mi tía la oportunidad de mudarse a Manhattan, en Nueva York. La señora quería que mi tía continuara con sus servicios, y mi tía, que no me quería dejar atrás, le pidió que me incluyera en el trato. Así, ambas obtuvimos una visa de trabajo y un permiso de residencia. Al llegar a este lugar, nos dimos cuenta de que la familia era mucho más poderosa de lo que pensábamos. Sus hijos eran magnates de negocios con grandes empresas, y sus nietos, lo que llaman CEO. La matriarca se había mudado a Venezuela siguiendo a su esposo, que había fallecido allí, buscando un escape de la vida suburbana. Era una explicación para muchas cosas que no entendíamos.
En la mansión de Manhattan vivían el nieto de la matriarca, Alejandro Uzcátegui, de treinta años, y su esposa, Alison Mich, de veintiocho. Alison, una mujer con una discapacidad que limita su movilidad, requería la ayuda de un especialista, pero a menudo nosotras teníamos que asistirla en tareas como bañarse. No nos molestaba. Era parte de nuestro trabajo.
Dos años después, la matriarca falleció. La pérdida fue un golpe que nos puso en una balanza. Nos aterrorizaba la idea de ser despedidas. Sin embargo, el nieto de la gran señora, Alejandro, nos ofreció continuar en la casa. Sentí un inmenso alivio. Mi carrera en la Academy of Art University, una universidad que ofrecía programas en línea de diseño gráfico, dependía de este empleo.
Mi vida se redujo a una rutina: trabajaba en la mansión durante el día y estudiaba por las noches. Me iba bien. En la mansión, me había convertido en una figura casi invisible. Era poco sociable, totalmente enfocada en mi trabajo. Apenas intercambiaba una que otra conversación con la madre de Alejandro, que venía de visita, pero con Alison y él, la distancia era una norma. Era una relación de respeto, sin insinuaciones. Mi uniforme era una declaración de mi invisibilidad: un gorro de tela que cubría mi cabello, siempre recogido en un moño para que ninguna hebra cayera en la comida. Mi larga bata, que iba desde el cuello hasta las rodillas, era de un gris insípido con blanco y negro, sin forma, sin ningún toque de feminidad. Pantimedias blancas y zapatillas negras completaban el atuendo. No había nada provocador en mi apariencia, nada que pudiera incitar a la tentación.
Sin embargo, a pesar de mi atuendo, tengo una belleza que no me atrevo a exponer. Mido 1.60 metros, tengo la tez clara y unas curvas bien definidas. Mi rostro es atractivo, con labios gruesos, una nariz respingada y unos ojos grandes de color café intenso, de mirada ligeramente achinada. Mi cabello, una melena larga y castaña, me llega hasta las caderas. Podría decirse que soy una belleza, pero una que prefiere no ser vista. Soy tímida, inexperta con los hombres, y mis metas no incluyen relaciones amorosas. Mi único objetivo era terminar mi carrera y buscar un empleo donde pudiera ejercer mi talento. Hago buenos diseños, y en unos meses, con mis ahorros, podría rentar un departamento y comenzar mi verdadero sueño americano.
"¿Te falta mucho, Erika?" La voz de mi tía me sacó de mis pensamientos.
"No tía, termino este diseño, lo envío y me acuesto."
"Date prisa, niña, tenemos que estar despiertas temprano."
"Lo sé."
Se fue, cerrando la puerta. Me sentí agobiada, así que decidí tomar un vaso con agua. Pero al pasar por el pasillo principal, escuché sollozos y una fuerte discusión.
"¡¿CÓMO ME PIDES ESO, ALEJANDRO?! SABES QUE YO NO PODRÍA CUIDAR DE UN BEBÉ. ¡MÍRAME! NO PUEDO CUIDARME NI A MÍ MISMA, ¿CÓMO PRETENDES QUE LO HAGA CON UN BEBÉ?"
"¡QUIERO HIJOS! EL DOCTOR DIJO QUE TU DISCAPACIDAD NO ERA UN IMPEDIMENTO. ESTÁS DISCAPACITADA DE LAS PIERNAS, NO DE TU REPRODUCCIÓN. TENEMOS EMPLEADOS QUE TE AYUDARÁN, PERO SIEMPRE PONES UNA EXCUSA TRAS OTRA. ME TIENES ATADO, ALISON. TENGO NECESIDADES COMO HOMBRE. TÚ ERES MI ESPOSA, Y ESTOY CONTIGO. NADA TE LIMITA. ESTO NO ES UN IMPEDIMENTO."
"¡LO ES PARA MÍ! NO ME SIENTO COMPLETA, ¿ACASO NO LO PUEDES VER?"
"¿Y TÚ NO PUEDES VER QUE TE QUIERO? ESTOY CONTIGO Y TE HE APOYADO TODO ESTE TIEMPO. RECAPACITA. NO PODEMOS PERMITIR QUE ESTO NOS ARRUINE."
"¡ERES MUY EGOÍSTA! ¡SOLO PIENSAS EN TI!"
"¿QUÉ DIJISTE? NO CREO QUE HAYA ESCUCHADO ESO DE TI."
"PUES LO DIJE, ¡ERES EGOÍSTA!"
El sonido de cosas rompiéndose se hizo más fuerte. Platos, cristales, muebles. Una furia ciega se había apoderado de Alison.
"¡PARA, ALISON, DETENTE! ¡DETENTE…!"
De repente, un portazo resonó en la mansión. Me exalté y me giré para huir, pero escuché pasos apresurados. Mis ojos se abrieron como platos. No tenía escapatoria. Corrí a la cocina y me escondí debajo del mesón, el corazón latiendo tan rápido que temí que se me saliera del pecho. Me tapé la boca con una mano, rezando para que se fuera. Mis ojos estaban fijos en la sombra que se acercaba.
"Sal de ahí." Su voz era un susurro frío, una orden que me heló la sangre.
Estoy temblando. Me ha descubierto. Lentamente, salgo, mi cuerpo encogido, mi mirada fija en el suelo, evitando su rostro.
"Lo lamento, señor. Yo no quise escuchar. Salí por un vaso con agua, se lo juro que acabo de llegar. Por favor, perdóneme. Me iré. No me corra. No fue mi intención escuchar, por favor, yo…"
Intenté marcharme, pero él se interpuso en mi camino.
"Espera. No te vayas."
Latest Chapters
#172 Capítulo 172. Traslado.
Last Updated: 12/18/2025 05:40#171 Capítulo 171. Búsqueda.
Last Updated: 12/18/2025 05:23#170 Capítulo 170. Ataque.
Last Updated: 12/18/2025 04:50#169 Capítulo 169. La despedida.
Last Updated: 12/18/2025 00:09#168 Capítulo 168. Verdad.
Last Updated: 12/16/2025 18:30#167 Capítulo 167. Golpe de realidad.
Last Updated: 12/16/2025 18:30#166 Capitulo 166. La despedida.
Last Updated: 12/16/2025 17:08#165 Capitulo 165. Desolación.
Last Updated: 12/16/2025 15:48#164 Capítulo 164. El Secreto Multiplicado.
Last Updated: 12/15/2025 04:08#163 Capítulo 163. Impotencia.
Last Updated: 12/13/2025 16:09
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me encanta
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Me encanta está historia 😍
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muy buena
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About Author

Isabella
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