In the days that followed, I tried to keep my suspicions to myself, but the tension between Thiago and me only grew. Every interaction felt strained, and I found myself second-guessing everything—every kind word, every affectionate touch, every lingering look. It was like a wall had grown between us, one I couldn't cross, no matter how hard I tried. Every night as he held me, I would close my eyes, wondering if his secrets ran as deep as the investigator had hinted. I’d force myself to remember the Thiago I knew—the man who’d protected me, the man who fought tirelessly for his family’s legacy and for us. But these doubts clung to me, whispering just out of reach.One evening, as I was packing up at the office, my phone rang, the sharp tone breaking the silence. It was the investigator I’d hired, his voice crackling with urgency."Bridgette, I found something you might want to see. Are you available tonight?"My pulse quickened. "Yes, where should we meet?"We arranged to meet at a d
The weeks of suspicion and relentless digging had led to this moment, a moment I never would thought I would thought of depending on to find answers that had been bugging up my mind lately.I couldn’t believe that I would end up going to see my father again. Romeo Martinez, my father, was the only person who might hold the key secrets behind my mother’s death. Which was why when the perfect opportunity arose, I quickly grabbed it. A few days later, I told Thiago I’d be on a business trip in Nebraska with Lucia, but in reality, our flight was bound for Miami. I hate to even actually go and lie about it to my husband but I needed answers—answers only my father could give me.When we arrived, Lucia immediately concern etched into her face. She leaned in, her voice low. “Are you sure about this, Madam CEO? You know what kind of man your father is. She might hurt you.”I took a steadying breath. “That’s exactly why I have to do this. He may be a monster, but he’s the only one who can gi
When I returned to Monaco, my mind was a tangled mess of questions and anger. Each step toward the house felt heavier, the confrontation with my father gnawing at me, his words burrowing deep into my psyche. “Thiago murdered her… Avenge her… Bring justice.” They replayed like a terrible song stuck on repeat, one I couldn’t shake, no matter how much I wanted to.The house felt emptier than usual. I looked around, wondering if Thiago was here, if he could see through the mask I now wore. If he could sense the wall growing between us. But as much as I wanted answers from him, a part of me recoiled at the idea. I needed more—proof, clarity, something I could hold on to.Lost in thought, I nearly jumped as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked down to see Charles’s name flash on the screen. The last person I wanted to talk to. But something about my conversation with my father, combined with Charles’s involvement, made me feel that he held something I was missing. I hesitated, then an
With all the information I gathered from my father, plus the somewhat related ones I had gathered from Charles, I finally have decided to call my private investigator to ask for updates.The moment the call came in, I froze, my heart lodged somewhere between fear and relief. The investigator’s voice was calm, clinical, as he laid out each piece of evidence he had collected—facts that aligned all too closely with the stories Charles and my father had told me. Each revelation was another blow to my resolve. Every instinct in me wanted to reject it, to deny the truth lurking in those findings.But there was no denying it anymore. Thiago’s secrets, the shrouded details of my mother’s death, and the suspicion that had crept into my life like a silent intruder—all of it had been validated in one damning phone call.I clutched my phone in a white-knuckled grip, barely feeling the sensation in my fingers. My mind raced back to that night in Miami, to my father’s words and the darkness in Char
As I drove away from the mansion, the bitter chill of the night seemed to seep through the car windows, sharpening the anger and determination pulsing through me. The quiet hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the silence, but inside, my mind was chaotic, unraveling Thiago’s words, each one sinking like a blade into the depths of my resolve. He’d admitted to everything—without remorse, without hesitation. I could still see the cold indifference in his eyes as he’d said it, as if my mother’s death had meant nothing more to him than a minor inconvenience.But if he thought he could silence me or manipulate me into staying, he had sorely misjudged me. Whatever small, twisted bond we’d shared was gone, dissolved into nothing under the weight of his betrayal.I wasn’t just going to leave. I was going to make sure Thiago paid for every single life he had ruined—starting with my mother’s.I parked the car at a nearby overlook, the city lights below shimmering in a way that would’v
Days had passed since I’d stormed out, but the weight of everything that happened between Thiago and me still felt fresh, raw.Eventually I had decided to return for two reasons: one was to collect my things and finally close the door on the life I thought I’d been building here. The life I’d been lied into. And then the second, was to gather anything I could find from Thiago’s things that would associate him to my mother’s death.It has been so long since that murder happened, and I bet finding evidence from Thiago’s things would be rough but I was still willing to bet on whatever I would find.When I arrived back, I wasn’t really expecting him to be here, yet there he was, waiting in the foyer as if he’d known I’d return. His expression was unreadable, a mask of both anticipation and wariness. But I didn’t care to decipher his emotions anymore; I was done trying to understand this man who had made a fool of me.“I’m only here for my things,” I said, my voice sharp and emotionless,
Starting over was harder than I thought it would be.Filing my resignation at the Bermudez Group was the first step, yet walking out of that building felt like tearing away a piece of myself. My work had been tied to Thiago for so long, every project, every deal stamped with his mark, whether I liked it or not. I took a deep breath as I left for the last time, reminding myself this was the beginning of a new chapter. The divorce papers followed next. It was a hollow victory, knowing it wouldn’t be easy; Thiago’s stubbornness was practically a trademark, and he would drag this process out as long as possible.The knowledge weighed on me as I tried to slip back into some semblance of normalcy. Each day felt both liberating and strangely empty, like I was relearning how to navigate life on my own terms, without him lurking in the background, dictating or influencing my decisions. My focus was clear: rebuild and find out the truth. I needed to know exactly how Thiago was tied to my mo
I was still buzzing from the unexpected kindness Sevi had shown last night, my mind replaying his warm smile and easy laugh as he drove me to my hotel. So when he suggested lunch, I agreed, curious about what more I’d find beneath his calm exterior.When I met him in the hotel lobby, he greeted me with the same gentle smile that seemed to soften every hard edge in my mind. Dressed in a simple white shirt and dark jeans, he looked effortlessly put together."I hope you like cafes," he said, leading me to his car.“I practically live in them,” I admitted with a grin. “Perfect place to escape without really going anywhere, don’t you think?”He chuckled. "Then I know just the place for you.”The drive was filled with snippets of conversation that made me feel like I’d known him far longer than just a day. It was easy to fall into step with him, and by the time we reached a tucked-away part of the city, I was utterly at ease.The cafe Sevi had chosen was nestled between tall, vine-covered
The weeks following Emilia’s birth were filled with tender moments and sleepless nights, but it was a rhythm Bridgette and I quickly embraced. She was thriving in her new role as a mother, and seeing her light up whenever she held Emilia made everything we had gone through feel worth it.But peace never seemed to last in our world.One afternoon, as I was working in my study, Lucia burst into the room without knocking—a sure sign something was wrong.“What is it?” I asked, putting down my pen.Her face was pale, her usual confidence replaced by unease. “Thiago, there’s a situation.”My stomach tightened. “What kind of situation?”She hesitated before replying. “It’s Victor. He’s back, and he’s making noise about challenging your position in the company.”Victor. My former right-hand man turned adversary. He had been ousted years ago after betraying my trust and attempting to sabotage a critical project. I thought I’d seen the last of him, but apparently, he had other plans.“What’s hi
With the chaos behind us, our days slowly found rhythm. Bridgette’s health continued to improve, and her confidence grew stronger with each passing day. Though we had overcome so much, the weeks leading up to the baby’s arrival were filled with new challenges, albeit ones we welcomed.One afternoon, Bridgette stood in the middle of the nursery, her hands resting on her belly. She’d chosen soft greens and whites for the room, accented with woodland animal decals along the walls. The crib sat under the large bay window, sunlight spilling over its polished wood.“It’s perfect,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.I stepped behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. “It’s not just perfect—it’s ready for our little miracle.”She smiled, leaning back against me. For the first time in months, her laughter came easily, like music filling the quiet of the room.As we moved forward, an unexpected visitor brought a reminder of our past. Victor arr
Despite the glimmers of hope and progress, Cynthia and Justin refused to back down. Their next move came in the form of a court summons—an audacious lawsuit claiming defamation and damages from the public fallout after Bridgette’s pregnancy announcement.“They’re claiming we ruined their reputation?” Bridgette exclaimed, pacing the living room. Her hand rested protectively over her belly as her frustration mounted. “They’ve been the ones spreading lies about us!”“They’re bluffing,” I reassured her, though I couldn’t hide my own irritation. “This is a scare tactic. They want to distract us from the real fight.”Victor, seated across from us with a stack of legal documents, nodded in agreement. “Their case is flimsy, but we’ll need to counter it aggressively. If we can prove malice and falsehood in their claims, we could turn this into a significant win.”We decided to take control of the narrative once and for all. I arranged a press conference where Bridgette and I addressed the rumo
{thiago]The pressure was relentless, and even with our best efforts, the weight of Cynthia and Justin’s schemes loomed over us like a storm cloud. Bridgette, always so composed and strong, had been working tirelessly, determined to protect her family's legacy. But as the days dragged on, I began to see the toll it was taking on her.One evening, I found her in the studio, staring blankly at her unfinished sculpture. Her hands trembled as she tried to work the clay, but it crumbled beneath her touch.“Bridgette,” I said softly, stepping closer. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t stop, Thiago. If I let up even for a moment, they’ll win. They’ll take everything.”I reached for her, gently pulling her into my arms. “We’re fighting this together. But you have to take care of yourself too. What happens to all of this if you burn out?”She didn’t answer, just buried her face in my chest, her body trembling with suppressed emotion
The calm after the exhibit was short-lived. Bridgette’s triumph was celebrated in Monaco’s circles, her sculpture making waves beyond the event. But success had a way of drawing out old ghosts, and soon enough, whispers began to circulate—whispers that hinted at the return of someone neither of us wanted to deal with: Cynthia.It started with a simple call from Lucia.“She’s back,” Lucia said, her tone sharp. “I overheard her talking at a private luncheon. She’s been asking about you and Thiago.”Bridgette was seated across from me at our breakfast table, savoring a fresh croissant when I put the phone on speaker. Her relaxed expression turned icy at the mention of Cynthia’s name.“What does she want now?” Bridgette asked, her voice steely.“Leverage,” Lucia replied. “From what I gathered, she’s trying to position herself back into Victor’s favor—and that means dragging your name through the mud.”Bridgette clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug. “She never kno
The days in Monaco had settled into a rhythm—a quiet lull before the baby arrived. Bridgette seemed more content, her fire still present but tempered by the anticipation of motherhood. Yet, our peace was interrupted one brisk morning when a knock on the door echoed through the penthouse.I wasn’t expecting anyone. Neither was Bridgette, who sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through baby name books. Her head lifted, curiosity flickering in her eyes.“I’ll get it,” I said, moving toward the door.When I opened it, I was met with a face I hadn’t seen in years—Alonso Serrano, an old business rival. His polished suit and calm demeanor belied the sharp edge he’d always carried.“Thiago,” he greeted with a smooth smile. “It’s been a while.”“What are you doing here, Serrano?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral but guarded.“May I come in?” he asked, his gaze flickering past me, likely catching sight of Bridgette.I hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. Whatever this was, it wasn’
Bridgette was restless, pacing back and forth in the grand living room of the penthouse in Miami. The faint glow of city lights illuminated her determined expression. I leaned against the doorway, watching her silently. She was consumed by this—her father’s company, the stolen assets, the legacy she wouldn’t allow to crumble.“They’re not just thieves, Thiago,” she said, finally stopping to face me. “They’re parasites. Feeding off years of my father’s hard work and dedication.”“And you intend to hunt them down,” I replied calmly, stepping closer.Her eyes blazed with determination. “Yes. Someone has to. My father is too kind—too trusting. But I won’t let this slide.”I admired her fire, but I also knew it would take more than passion to solve this. “We’ll do it together. But we have to be smart about it. We’re not just dealing with thieves; we’re dealing with professionals.”We started by reviewing the financial records Bridgette managed to retrieve from her father’s office. Late nig
[THIAGO’S POV]Bridgette was scrolling through her tablet one quiet morning while lounging on the couch. Her relaxed demeanor suddenly shifted as she frowned at the screen, her fingers rapidly tapping to navigate through a series of news articles."Thiago," she called out, her voice tight with concern.I emerged from the study, coffee mug in hand. "What’s wrong, love?"She looked up, her face pale. "It’s my father’s company. There are reports of financial troubles. They might be on the brink of bankruptcy."I set my mug down and approached her. "Bridgette, I know this is worrying, but you’re in no condition to take on stress right now. Let someone else handle it."Her brow furrowed, and I could see the determination in her eyes. "No, Thiago. I need to go back to Miami and look into this. If the company goes under, it’ll ruin everything my father worked for."I sighed, already sensing where this was headed. "You’re pregnant, Bridgette. Traveling, dealing with business stress—it’s not s
As Bridgette's pregnancy progressed, I became increasingly worried about leaving her alone while I went to work. Though she insisted she was fine, I knew better. She was stubborn but vulnerable, and I wasn’t about to take any chances.So, I decided to hire someone to look after her—a personal maid who could help with errands and chores, making Bridgette’s life easier while I wasn’t around.The morning I introduced the new maid, Clarisse, things didn’t exactly go as planned.When I brought Clarisse to the house, I was all smiles. "Bridgette, this is Clarisse. She’ll be helping out around here so you can rest more."Bridgette’s eyes narrowed as she took in Clarisse, who, admittedly, was strikingly beautiful. Tall, blonde, and perfectly poised, Clarisse looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine.Bridgette’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I don’t need a maid.""It’s just to help you," I said, trying to ease the tension. "She’ll handle everything—cleaning, errands, cooking—