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 old pier stretched before me, silent except for the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the wooden posts. A single lamplight flickered above, casting long shadows across the damp planks. My heart pounded as I scanned the area, my breath visible in the night air.I checked my phone again. Midnight. I was a few minutes early, but whoever had sent the message wasn’t here yet.Or maybe they were watching.A gust of wind sent a shiver down my spine. I crossed my arms, not just against the cold, but against the gnawing uncertainty clawing at my insides. This could be a trap. Thiago could have sent the message, luring me here to force a conversation I wasn’t ready for. Or worse—someone else, someone more dangerous, could be behind it.I turned, about to leave, when I heard footsteps. Slow. Measured.I spun back, my pulse skyrocketing as a shadow emerged from the darkness.It wasn’t Thiago.Victor.His sharp features were cast in half-light, his expression unreadable as he stepped towar
Thiago kissed me like he was trying to brand himself into my soul—like he could erase every doubt, every betrayal, with the heat of his mouth.And for a moment, I let him.For a moment, I kissed him back, gripping his shirt like it could anchor me to something real.But reality crashed in just as fast.I shoved him away, breathless, my lips still tingling from the force of him.His chest rose and fell, his dark eyes locked onto mine with a heat that burned straight through me.“No,” I said, voice hoarse.Thiago’s jaw tightened. “Bridgette—”“No,” I repeated, stepping back. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to lie to me, manipulate me, and then kiss me like I’m supposed to forget everything.”His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I wasn’t lying to you.”“Really?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Then why do I feel like I just walked into a trap?”Thiago exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like this.”I crossed my arms.
I forced myself to meet Santiago’s gaze, schooling my expression into something unreadable. If he was here, breaking into my penthouse in the middle of the night, it wasn’t just to chat.He wants something.I wasn’t going to give it to him.“You have about ten seconds to explain why you’re here before I call security,” I said, gripping the wine bottle so tightly my knuckles ached.Santiago smirked, the kind of lazy, self-assured grin that made my stomach twist. He took a slow step forward, completely unfazed by my threat. “Security?” he mused. “Mmm… You could call them. But we both know they won’t get here in time, mi amor.”His voice was smooth, practiced, laced with the kind of confidence that came from knowing he held all the cards.I refused to let him see the flicker of unease tightening in my chest.“I don’t have time for games, Santiago.”“I know,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Which is why I’ll get to the point.”In one fluid motion, he reached inside his suit jacket. I
His lips moved against mine with a slow, deliberate hunger, as if he was savoring every second of my surrender. I should have pushed him away. I should have turned and walked out of this penthouse, out of his life, like I swore I would.But the second his hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, every ounce of resistance melted away.Thiago knew my body too well. He knew exactly how to unravel me with a single touch, how to make me forget logic and consequences. His fingers trailed down my spine, sending a shiver through me, his kiss deepening until I was breathless.I tore away, gasping, my palms flat against his chest. “Thiago—”His forehead rested against mine, his breathing just as uneven. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this.”My fingers curled into his shirt, torn between desire and the storm raging in my mind. “It’s not about what I want.”He exhaled, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “Then what is it about, Wifey?”That nickname. The way it rolled off his tongue like a promise
The hallway felt too small, too suffocating with both men standing there—Victor rigid with frustration, Thiago exuding that quiet, commanding presence that had always been my undoing.I should tell him to leave. I should push past this moment and pretend my heart wasn’t beating too fast, that I wasn’t already losing this battle.But I didn’t.Instead, I met Thiago’s gaze head-on. “What do you want?”He tilted his head slightly, studying me, before stepping closer. Too close. The scent of him—expensive cologne, faint whiskey, something distinctly him—wrapped around me like a noose.Victor shifted beside me, his tension palpable. “You’re wasting your time, Bermudez. She’s done with whatever game you’re playing.”Thiago let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes never leaving mine. “That so?” His fingers twitched at his side, like he was resisting the urge to touch me. “Because she hasn’t told me to leave yet.”Damn him.Victor exhaled sharply. “Bridgette.” His voice was low, a warning.I swallow
The silence stretched between us, thick with words left unsaid. Victor's gaze remained steady, unwavering, as if he could will me into understanding the danger I was walking into. Maybe he could see the fracture lines forming beneath my skin, the way I was slowly unraveling under the weight of my own choices.But what choice did I have? Thiago was a shadow I couldn’t outrun. No matter how far I went, how fiercely I tried to carve out a life separate from him, he was always there. And worst of all, some part of me still wanted him to be.I exhaled sharply, shoving past Victor toward the kitchen, needing space—needing something to ground me before I lost myself completely in this never-ending push and pull. I reached for the half-empty wine bottle on the counter and poured myself a glass. My hand trembled slightly as I took a sip, the bitter liquid burning down my throat.Victor followed but didn’t say anything right away. He just leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest,
The silence between Victor and me stretched, taut and suffocating. He watched me like I was a puzzle he had almost solved but was too frustrated to finish.“Bridge,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to do this alone. You know that, right?”I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Victor had always been my safety net, the one person who saw the mess I was and still chose to stand by me. But even he couldn’t save me from myself.I turned away, rubbing my arms as though that could shake off the cold creeping into my bones. “I’m tired, Vic. Can we just—can we not do this tonight?”His eyes darkened, but he nodded once, reluctant. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”With that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him. I waited, standing frozen in place until I heard his footsteps fade down the hallway. Then, with a shaky breath, I turned and pressed my forehead against the door, letting my eyes close.Not five minutes later, my phone vibrated on the counter.I didn’t wan
The weight of Lucia’s words lingered long after she was gone, settling over me like an unwelcome shroud. The air in my apartment felt heavier, thick with the ghost of Thiago’s presence.I set the wine glass down with a soft clink, pressing my fingers against my temples. My head throbbed, not from the alcohol but from the war waging inside me. Thiago was a storm—unrelenting, consuming, and I was the fool who kept stepping into the rain without an umbrella.I forced myself to move, needing to shake off the static thrumming in my veins. One step, then another, until I was standing before my bedroom mirror. The woman staring back at me looked like a stranger. There was defiance in her eyes, yes, but beneath it, something else lurked—uncertainty.My gaze dropped to the ring, still snug on my finger. I could almost feel the phantom trace of Thiago’s touch lingering there. My hands curled into fists. I should take it off. I should have done it the second he walked out that door.With a sharp
The elevator ride to my apartment was silent except for the dull hum of the machinery. My fingers hovered over the ring on my hand, debating whether to rip it off before I stepped through the door. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I stepped out into the hallway, my heels clicking against the polished floor, my pulse a steady drumbeat in my ears. As I neared my door, a whisper of hesitation curled in my chest, but I ignored it. My fingers trembled only slightly as I unlocked the door and stepped inside.The lights were already on.I froze.And then…“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”Thiago’s voice curled through the space, rich and smooth, wrapping around me like a silk noose. He was there, lounging in my living room like he belonged. A bottle of wine sat open on the table, two glasses half-poured. Like he’d planned for this. Like he knew I’d come.My breath stuttered. “You broke into my apartment.”Thiago smirked, tilting his head. “Now, now, wifey. You gave me a key, reme