The crisp Miami air was vibrant as Sevi and I strolled through the bustling streets. Our earlier encounter with Thiago at the jewelry store still lingered in my mind, but Sevi seemed determined to shake off the tension by filling the day with more activities. After a short stop for coffee, he turned to me with a boyish grin."You know what Miami is really known for, aside from the beaches and nightlife?" Sevi asked, his enthusiasm contagious."Let me guess," I replied, smirking. "Art?"He nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Exactly. There's this amazing art museum not far from here. I've been meaning to visit it, and since we’re pretending to be the quintessential couple, why not make it a proper date?”I laughed. “Lead the way, art enthusiast.”The Perez Art Museum Miami was breathtaking from the moment we stepped inside. Sunlight poured through massive glass walls, illuminating contemporary exhibits that ranged from the eccentric to the awe-inspiring. The air inside was tinged with the
My pulse raced as I tried to piece together what had happened. And waking up in a dimly lit room with a throbbing headache wasn’t the most encouraging start. One moment I was wandering through the museum, and the next, I woke up here—wherever here was.The faint scent of dust and mildew filled the air, and the faint hum of distant activity suggested this place wasn’t entirely abandoned. It looked like some sort of storage room, crammed with wooden crates, disassembled furniture, and random artifacts.I sat up, wincing at the ache in my temples, and scanned the room for clues. Two men stood near the door, talking in low voices. They were large, muscular, and exuded the kind of presence that said they weren’t the type to negotiate.Who could have done this?Charles and Jasper immediately came to mind. They had the resources and the audacity to pull something like this. Or maybe Cynthia? The thought of her icy demeanor made my stomach churn. She’d certainly made her disdain for me clear e
I couldn’t stop the doubts circling in my mind as I sat in the passenger seat of Thiago’s sleek black car. His expression was unreadable, as it always seemed to be, but there was an edge to his silence that unsettled me. My sudden abduction at the museum replayed in my mind like a fragment that was so confusing, almost similar to a puzzle I couldn’t piece together. It left me questioning myself all of a sudden, on why had Thiago abruptly shown up at the museum annex, of all places? And more importantly, why did those men, who had abducted me, appeared and talked to Thiago as though they were afraid of him? The guard hadn’t even tried to argue with Thiago—he’d just retreated, cowed by his commanding tone and then after a while, they all just left me with Thiago without any fight.It was screaming the obvious that they could be working together. I stole a glance at Thiago. His hands were steady on the wheel, his jaw set with a quiet determination. He looked like a man in control, bu
I woke up with a splitting headache, my entire body aching as though I had been trampled. My vision was hazy, and as I blinked against the dim light, the smell hit me first—rust, mildew, and something faintly metallic, like dried blood. The air around me smelled as though it was thick, damp, and suffocating. My heart pounded as I took in my surroundings. I was on a hard, cold floor with cracked concrete beneath me. The whole area was large and poorly lit, with shadows pooling in the corners. A few crates and rusted machinery were scattered about, and the distinct sound of laughter reached my ears. I froze, my breath catching as I realized I wasn’t alone. "Man, this mission's a jackpot!" one of the voices said, rough and slurred. “How much did he say we’re getting?” another chimed in, his tone greedy. “Thousand dollars each, maybe more if we keep her quiet,” the first replied. My stomach turned. Keep me quiet? Who are these people? I shifted slightly, careful not to make
I tapped my foot against the grimy concrete floor of the warehouse, my nerves fraying as the minutes dragged on. The air was stale, the kind that suffocated every thought, leaving behind only a haze of frustration and growing panic. My eyes flicked toward the three men standing near the dim light bulb that cast eerie shadows on their faces. They looked like they belonged in some bad movie—hulking frames, disheveled clothes, and the kind of casual menace that made your skin crawl."Who is this big boss you keep yammering about?" I snapped, my patience worn thin. "You've been playing this secretive game for hours now. Is it that hard to give me a straight answer?"One of them—a grizzled man with a scar running across his cheek—grunted but didn't bother looking at me. The other two exchanged glances, their silence louder than any response they could have given. It was maddening."Nothing to say?" I pushed, trying to inject steel into my voice despite the lump forming in my throat. "At l
"Oh, Bridgette, you always were the slow one, weren’t you?” Agatha sounded viscous and sarcastic particularly when she adde, “Well, to put it simply, I wanted to kill you that is why I took this all in violence to completely get rid of you, my dearest stepsister."Her words stung, but not as much as the implications of what was happening. I was tied to a chair in what appeared to be a remote cabin—judging by the faint chirping of crickets outside and the musty smell of old wood. My wrists burned against the rope, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the betrayal cutting through me. "You want to kill me." The statement came out flat, emotionless, but inside, my heart was racing like a drumbeat of panic. Agatha's smile widened. "Finally, you’re catching on. Yes, Bridgette. I want you dead. You see, dear sister, you’ve always been in my way. Ever since Daddy married your mother and you came into our lives, you were the golden child, the favorite. Romeo’s precious little prin
My wrists throbbed against the tight ropes binding them, but the ache was nothing compared to the storm raging in my mind. Agatha paced before me, her sharp heels clicking against the cold concrete floor of the warehouse. Her face was a picture of calm malice, as if orchestrating my abduction was just another task on her to-do list.I couldn’t believe it. My own step-sister.“Agatha…” My voice came out shaky, but I forced steel into it. “This is insane. Let me go, and we can pretend this never happened. I’ll forget all of it—this whole ridiculous plan.”She stopped abruptly, turning to me with a sneer. “Oh, you’d forget it, don’t you? How noble. But you see, Bridgette, I don’t want you to forget. I want you to comply.”My pulse spiked. “Comply with what?”Her eyes gleamed with a twisted delight as she stepped closer, crouching so that her face was level with mine. “I want you to sign over everything to me. The properties, the shares, the company, all of it. Once Daddy dearest kicks t
Agatha sat across from me in the dimly lit van, her face cold and unyielding. My heart was racing, but I forced myself to stay calm. I had one shot at this, and I needed to execute it perfectly.“Let me call Dad,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “You can watch me the whole time. If I’m going to sign my life away, I deserve at least one chance to hear his side of things.”Agatha’s suspicious glare remained fixed on me for several tense seconds. Then, with a sharp sigh, she pulled her phone from her pocket and handed it over. “Fine, but no funny business. You’ve got two minutes.”I took the phone, my bound hands fumbling slightly as I dialed the number I knew by heart. As the line connected, I took a deep breath and launched into my performance.“Hello, daddy. It’s Bridgette,” I said, my voice steady despite the thrum of adrenaline coursing through me. “There’s something I’d like to clarify about my inheritance.”I heard Agatha shift in her seat, but I kept my focus on the phone.“I kn
The jet cut through the night sky, its engines humming beneath us like a beast biding its time. I sat stiffly in my seat, staring out the window at the endless black void below. The reality of what was happening still hadn’t fully settled.My mother was alive.And she was in Spain.I turned my head, watching Thiago from the corner of my eye. He had leaned back, fingers tapping against his glass in slow, measured beats. His eyes were on me, as if he was waiting for me to break the silence.I refused to give him that satisfaction.Instead, I asked the one question that had been burning in my mind since we took off.“How long have you known?”Thiago’s tapping stopped. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. “A few weeks.”A sharp breath left my lips. “A few weeks?” I repeated, my voice cold. “You let me believe she was dead for weeks?”“I didn’t let you believe anything,” he corrected. “I was gathering proof. If I had told you too soon, you would have gone straight to your father and gotten
The private jet hummed softly beneath us, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in my chest. Spain. My mother. The words still didn't fit together in my mind. For years, I had assumed she was dead, lost in the wreckage of my father’s games. And now, she was suddenly alive? Hiding in another country?I gripped the armrest, my nails digging into the leather. “How long have you known she was in Spain?”Thiago didn’t hesitate. “A few weeks.”A sharp, bitter laugh escaped me. “And you just decided to tell me now?”He swirled the last of his drink before setting the glass down with a soft clink. “I told you when it mattered.”“When it mattered to you.”His jaw flexed, but he didn’t deny it. Of course, he wouldn’t. Thiago Bermudez wasn’t the kind of man to offer apologies.I crossed my arms, my body tight with frustration. “You should have told me the moment you knew.”His dark eyes settled on mine, unreadable but heavy with something that made my breath catch. “Would it have changed anythin
Thiago’s words lingered long after he pulled away, their weight settling like lead in my chest.You should have let me handle it.I clenched my fists, refusing to let his voice take root in my head. I had spent years fighting my battles alone, carving my own path despite my father’s suffocating grip. And now, for the first time, I had won. I had backed him into a corner, forced him to sign away what he had stolen.So why didn’t it feel like a victory?I forced a deep breath, turning away from Thiago. “I need a shower.”“Of course you do.” His voice was smooth, calculated. He leaned against the suite’s bar, watching me with an unreadable expression. “You always run when you don’t want to deal with something.”I froze mid-step but didn’t turn around. “I’m not running.”“No?” I heard the ice clink in his glass as he poured himself a drink. “Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel it.”Feel what? The suffocating tension? The invisible noose tightening around my throat? The way
My heels clicked against the polished marble of the lobby, my heart still hammering in my chest. The rush of adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet, but the weight of what had just happened was starting to settle.I had won. I had finally backed my father into a corner, made him sign away the power he had stolen.So why did it still feel like a hollow victory?I pushed the thought away and focused on the present.Thiago followed a few steps behind, silent but watchful. I could feel his gaze on me, tracking every breath, every twitch of my fingers. He was still angry. No, not just angry—furious.And I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.The moment we reached the car, I yanked the door open, but before I could slip inside, his hand shot out, slamming it shut again.I turned to him, fire flashing in my eyes. “Don’t.”Thiago stepped closer, his body blocking mine from the street, from the world. “You’re shaking.”I clenched my fists. “I’m fine.”His gaze swept over me, slow and calculated, readin
The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. My father’s fingers tapped against the rim of his whiskey glass, his mind working through the implications of what I’d just said. He was a master manipulator, but this time? He had backed himself into a corner.“You don’t have proof,” he said finally, but there was something uncertain in his voice.I leaned against his desk, forcing a smirk. “Oh, but I do.”Lucia’s voice crackled in my earpiece. “We have everything, Bridgette. His authorizations, timestamps, and even the IP addresses he used. All trace back to him.”I didn’t break eye contact. “I have enough to bury you in court. Fraud. Embezzlement. You’d be finished.”His jaw clenched, and for the first time, a flicker of unease crossed his face.Thiago, standing just behind me, chuckled lowly. “She’s not bluffing, Martinez.”I felt the heat of his presence at my back—solid, unwavering. And I hated that some part of me found comfort in it.My father exhaled slowly, setting his
I stormed through the ballroom doors, my heels clicking against the marble as I pressed a hand to my earpiece."Lucia, where’s Victor?" My voice was sharp, betraying none of the unease curling in my gut."Already on it," she replied. "He's pulling up transaction records now. But, Bridgette—""Just tell me."Lucia hesitated. "It looks internal."I froze mid-step.Internal?A chill swept through me. This wasn’t just some competitor hacking our accounts. This was someone inside Martinez Holdings.I pushed forward, ignoring the glances thrown my way as I made my way toward the exit. I needed to get to my office. Now.But then—A hand closed around my wrist.Firm. Possessive. Familiar.I turned sharply, my gaze colliding with Thiago’s. His eyes—dark, unreadable—searched mine."Let go," I said, my voice colder than ice.He didn’t. Instead, he studied me like I was a puzzle he was piecing together."Someone stole from you," he murmured. It wasn’t a question. He already knew.I yanked my wris
The world still saw me as Bridgette Martinez, the woman who clawed her way to the top, but behind closed doors, I was fighting battles that no one could see.Thiago's encroachment wasn’t just financial. It was personal. Everywhere I turned, he was there—at high-profile investor meetings, in the whispers of board members questioning my next move, in the shadow of every deal I tried to secure.And worst of all?He was still in my head.I sat at the head of the table, my expression unreadable as Lucia and Victor debriefed me on the latest developments.Lucia tossed a report onto the table. "Thiago's now the second-largest shareholder in Martinez Holdings."Victor leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "At this rate, it won’t be long before he’s in a position to demand a seat on the board."A chill crawled up my spine. I had spent years making sure no one—not my father, not Cynthia, not any man—could take my power away. And yet, Thiago was tightening his grip without ever raising
I woke up tangled in silk sheets, the ghost of Thiago’s touch lingering on my skin. The city skyline stretched beyond the glass walls of the penthouse, bathed in the pale hues of dawn. For a moment, I let myself savor the illusion of peace.Then reality sank its claws back in.Cynthia was gone, but her words still echoed in my mind. You’ve only traded one cage for another.I turned my head slightly. Thiago was still asleep, his features relaxed in a way I rarely saw. But even in sleep, he exuded control—one arm draped possessively over my waist, his grip loose but firm.Carefully, I slipped out of bed, moving toward the floor-to-ceiling window. The city buzzed below, alive with possibilities and dangers.I wasn’t naive.Thiago’s offer of a merger was strategic, but it wasn’t just about business. He wanted control. Over the empire I had fought to build. Over me.And the worst part?I wasn’t sure I minded.A soft rustle behind me made me tense. “You’re thinking too much.”I turned to fi
…me a knowing look. “Doesn’t matter. It’s about perception.”I sank into the chair across from him, exhaling sharply. “So, what’s our move?”He smiled.That slow, dangerous smile that always meant trouble.A Week LaterCynthia was gone. Her empire, shattered. Her name, tarnished.But the world didn’t pause for my victory. The moment she fell, new threats emerged—rival companies trying to swoop in, investors questioning my leadership, and whispers in the dark from people who had once feared Cynthia but now saw an opening to take me down.And then there was Thiago.Always watching. Always waiting.It was late when he finally cornered me in my office, his presence stealing the air from the room.“You’ve been avoiding me, Wifey.” His voice was smooth, but there was something sharp underneath it.I didn’t look up from the contract I was reviewing. “I’ve been busy.”Thiago chuckled, low and knowing. “Bullshit. You’re running, and we both know why.”I exhaled slowly, finally meeting his gaze