He never wanted you from the start. You were just a game to him—a piece in a bet he placed. And eventually, you found out.

The boy you got involved with—his name was Santiago. That heavy Spanish accent. He drove flashy cars. He did dangerous things. From the moment you met him, you were drawn in— His sultry eyes. The tattoos on his body. His athletic build. His tall figure. His style. He came from a rich family. And the way he spoke—mysterious, dark, tempting— it pulled you closer, made you crave a connection with him.

For three months, the relationship felt perfect. Sweet words. Movie nights. Long drives. Moments full of laughter. Silly, maybe… but to you, it was the best version of love you’d ever had.

One night, the two of you went to the cinema to watch a romantic drama: Three Steps Above Heaven. Nothing but a love story. You sat side by side— Your arm brushed against his. Your head rested on his strong, broad shoulder— warm… and somehow cold at the same time.

That night, you had your first kiss. Soft. Simple. Just three seconds. He pulled away— And that was it. You wanted more. But just then… The movie ended.

Santiago stood up from his seat. Adjusted his shirt. Said nothing. And walked away.

You were confused. Frozen in place. The confusion showed in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Santiago walked down the hallway. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. Brrr... Brrr...

The person on the other end picked up.

Santiago gripped the phone tighter to his ear and spoke in a low, cold voice:

“The game’s over. Fine, I lost. I’ll give you your damn money back. I can’t stand that ugly, broke girl anymore—got it?!”

His last sentence was loud. A harsh growl. He ended the call. Shoved the phone back into his pocket. And stepped into the men’s restroom.

Santiago never truly wanted you. His heart may have skipped a beat for you—just once— but even that meant nothing to him. You were just part of a stupid bet. A cruel game with feelings he never intended to honor.

He stood at the marble sink. Fists clenched. Water running loudly. Staring at himself in the mirror. Breathing uneven. He wiped his tired face with his hand— and whispered curses under his breath. He was cursing himself.