"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
Thiago’s words hung in the air like a challenge, his steady gaze fixed on me as if daring me to contradict him. My fingers curled tighter against my lap, my stubbornness flaring despite the sincerity in his tone.“I’m not some damsel in distress that needs constant saving,” I snapped, glancing out of the car window at the blur of the city lights. “And you can’t just swoop in and expect me to owe you everything.”His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening. “You can call it whatever you want, Bridgette, but the facts speak for themselves. You were in trouble, and I got you out.”I turned to face him, heat rising to my cheeks. “And I appreciate that, Thiago. But this doesn’t change the fact that I can take care of myself.”He let out a low chuckle, the sound laced with frustration. “Oh, really? Was signing away your inheritance part of your grand plan to take care of yourself?”The jab stung, and I scowled. “That was a distraction, Thiago. It was to buy time.”“You
Thiago’s car glided through the streets behind the police convoy, the tension in the air between us thick enough to cut with a knife. I glanced out the window, trying to distract myself from his earlier question. “Will you already believe me when I say that the only safest place you’ll ever be is by my side?”” His words echoed in my mind, stirring a mix of emotions I wasn’t ready to face.“Are you going to answer me, Wifey?” Thiago’s voice broke through my thoughts, smooth but edged with the insistence that always made my temper flare.I turned to him sharply. “First of all, stop calling me that. Second, just because you played hero today doesn’t mean I’m moving back to Sevi with you.”Thiago’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenching. “You’re being reckless again. Agatha is behind bars, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe. You need protection.”“I can protect myself,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “I’ve been doing it my whole life.”He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping h
I tightened my grip on my bag as I followed Thiago into the police station, the sharp scent of disinfectant mingling with the hum of activity around us. My heels clicked against the tiled floor, each step feeling heavier than the last. This was the last place I wanted to be, but Thiago had insisted—no, demanded—that I file my statement against Agatha. He didn’t care that I felt exposed, or that every moment spent here reminded me of the tangled web of family betrayals I’d tried so hard to escape.“It won’t take long,” Thiago said as he opened the door to the interview room for me. His tone was firm but not unkind. “Just tell them exactly what happened. The more solid your statement, the stronger the case against her.”“I know how this works,” I muttered, stepping inside. “But don’t think for a second that this is me giving in to your demands.”He didn’t respond, only giving me one of his unreadable looks before gesturing for me to sit. The officer assigned to take my statement—a ster
As I walked into the museum where Sevi and I last went, the museum was already close and I had to resort to looking for a nearby cafe. The familiar scent of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries wrapped around me like a warm hug. My eyes scanned the room, landing on him instantly. Sevi sat at our usual table near the window, his brows furrowed as he stared intently at his phone. He looked up just as I approached, and the tension in his face melted into a relieved smile."Bridgette!" he exclaimed, standing so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. "Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick! Do you even know how many times I called you?"I forced a smile, feeling a pang of guilt at the concern etched on his face. “I’m sorry, Sevi. I should’ve called you back earlier. Things got... complicated.”“Complicated?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “That’s all you’re going to say? You disappear, don’t answer your phone, and now you just show up like it’s nothing?”I s
The weight of Thiago’s confession followed me like a shadow, clinging to me even as I tried to leave it behind. The tears I’d been holding back since I walked out of his apartment stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I didn’t want to cry over him anymore. I didn’t want to feel anymore.But when I reached the solitude of my apartment, the dam broke. The tears came, hot and relentless, as I sank onto the edge of my bed. The memory of Thiago’s words played on an endless loop in my mind."I want everything with you. And I’ll wait as long as it takes."How could he say those things now? When I had finally gathered the strength to move on, when I had convinced myself that whatever we had was over—he came back with those words, cutting through my resolve like a knife.The knock on my door startled me. For a brief moment, I thought about ignoring it, but then the knocking grew more insistent. Wiping my tears hastily, I stood and opened the door, fully expecting it to be Sevi.It was
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—