That evening, the house was calm, the kind of peace I’d come to treasure lately. Bridgette was curled up on the couch, flipping through a baby name book with a focused look that could rival any boardroom negotiation. I was in the adjacent study, catching up on work while keeping an ear out for her.Suddenly, I heard her gasp, a sharp intake of breath that sent me bolting out of my chair.“Bridgette?” I called out, rushing into the living room.She was clutching her belly, her face pale and tense. “Thiago, I—I think I’m having cramps.”My heart stopped for a second before surging into overdrive. I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands hovering near hers as panic crept into my voice. “Cramps? How bad? Where exactly?”“It’s... not unbearable, but it’s sharp,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what’s happening. Is it normal?”“I’m not taking any chances,” I said, grabbing my phone. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, even
The next day began with sunlight streaming through the curtains. Bridgette was still curled up in bed, her hair a cascade of soft waves across the pillow. I slipped out quietly, determined to make her morning special.In the kitchen, I found myself chopping fruit for a smoothie—mangoes, strawberries, and a hint of mint, just the way she liked it. Cooking was never my forte, but for Bridgette, I’d learned.As I brought the tray into the bedroom, she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I said, placing the tray beside her.She blinked at me, then at the tray. “Breakfast in bed? What did I do to deserve this?”I grinned. “For putting up with me, mostly.”Her laughter was the sweetest sound.Later in the afternoon, I had a surprise planned.“Where are we going?” she asked as I led her outside.“You’ll see,” I said, guiding her to the car.We drove to a property just outside Monaco, where I’d been secretly working on something special—a nursery designed specifical
It was another busy morning at the office, the kind that used to consume me from dawn until well past dusk. But now, everything was different. I glanced at my watch for what felt like the tenth time in the past hour."Mr. Bermudez?" My secretary, Sofia, peered into my office with a stack of documents. "You’ve been glancing at that watch all morning. Big plans later?"I looked up, signing the last page of a contract with quick strokes. "Yes. I’m heading home early today."Sofia raised an eyebrow, setting the papers on my desk. "Again? That’s the third time this week.""And it won’t be the last," I replied with a smirk.She chuckled, folding her arms. "Let me guess—it’s the joys of being a first-time father?"I leaned back in my chair, a genuine smile forming on my face. "You could say that. I just… I can’t get enough of them. My wife, my baby—they’re my whole world now. I don’t want to miss a second."Sofia smiled warmly, her tone softening. "It’s good to see this side of you, Thiago.
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—
[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
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
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’
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 weight of Victor’s words settled deep in my chest long after they were spoken. I stared down at the amber liquid in my glass, but it offered no answers. Only more questions.Had I already lost the ability to choose? Had Thiago already decided for me?Victor sighed, rubbing his jaw as if he were debating something. Then, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and met my gaze.“I need to tell you something,” he said.A chill skated down my spine. “What?”He hesitated. Just for a second. And that alone sent warning bells ringing in my head.“Victor,” I pressed.His lips parted, but before he could speak, his phone buzzed sharply on the table.He glanced at the screen, and whatever he saw made his expression darken.I frowned. “What is it?”Instead of answering, he stood abruptly, snatching his jacket from the chair. “You should stay here tonight.”“What?” My heart stuttered. “Why?”His jaw tightened as he typed something on his phone. “Thiago’s looking for you.”Cold dread curled in
I clenched my fists, my pulse hammering in my ears. “I don’t have to choose anything.”Javier let out a quiet chuckle, his gaze steady, almost expectant. “That’s where you’re wrong, mija.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve already chosen—you just don’t realize it yet.”A chill ran down my spine.Thiago stepped between us, his broad shoulders cutting off Javier’s view of me. “If you’re done playing riddles, we’re leaving.”Javier exhaled sharply, clearly unimpressed. “You’re a fool if you think you can keep her out of this, Bermudez.” His gaze flickered back to me, dark amusement in his eyes. “And you, Bridgette… you’re an even bigger fool if you think you can outrun your own legacy.”Something in my chest tightened, but I refused to let it show. I lifted my chin, forcing steel into my voice. “Watch me.”Javier just smiled. “Ah, mi pequeña tormenta,” he murmured. “We’ll see how long that defiance lasts when the world comes crashing down.”Before I could say an
The air in the car felt suffocating. My pulse pounded against my ribs, but I refused to let my panic show.Thiago's expression had turned to stone, his body tense beside me. "How does he know we're here?"Mateo shrugged, too casual. "Your father has eyes everywhere, Bermudez. Did you really think you could waltz into Madrid unnoticed?"Thiago exhaled sharply. His fingers tapped against his knee in a slow, calculated rhythm—a sign that he was thinking, strategizing.I forced my voice to stay steady. "What does he want?"Mateo tilted his head, considering me. "To see you, of course. He’s given instructions for you to be brought to him—immediately."Brought. Not invited. Not welcomed.My fingers curled into fists. "And if I refuse?"Mateo’s smirk deepened. "Then you already know what happens next, princesa."I swallowed hard.Thiago shifted beside me. "She’s not going anywhere she doesn’t want to." His voice was calm, but the edge beneath it was lethal.Mateo chuckled, but his eyes remai
Thiago watched me carefully, gauging my reaction. He was waiting for me to flinch, to back down—but I didn’t.Instead, I met his gaze head-on. “Fine,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Let’s do it.”A slow, satisfied smirk curled on his lips. “That’s my girl.”I ignored the way my pulse jumped at those words. “Do you have a plan, or are we just throwing ourselves into the fire and hoping we don’t get burned?”His smirk widened. “Oh, we’re the fire, princesa. And it’s time they learn that the hard way.”He turned, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving in an hour.”I blinked. “Wait—what?”Thiago didn’t even look up as he typed out a message. “You wanted to go on the offensive. That means moving fast.”Panic warred with the determination burning in my chest. “Where are we going?”He finally met my gaze, and for the first time, I saw something beyond amusement and arrogance. I saw purpose.“To the last place they’d expect us to be.”A chill ran down m
Thiago’s entire posture shifted—controlled, calculating. His fingers tightened around his knife, but he didn’t move. Not yet.The blade against my throat pressed in just enough to sting. Not enough to cut. A warning.“Let her go,” Thiago said, his voice dangerously soft.The man behind me chuckled. “Now, now. You of all people should know how this works.”A shiver ran down my spine. They weren’t just some random attackers. They knew Thiago.I felt my captor shift slightly, his grip tightening. “Put the knife down, Bermudez.”Thiago’s jaw clenched. His knife hovered midair, hesitation flickering for just a second.Then, without warning—He threw it.Not at the man holding me.At the other attacker.A sharp cry echoed as the second man collapsed, the knife buried deep in his thigh.The split second of chaos was all I needed.I jerked my head back, slamming it into my captor’s nose. He cursed, his grip faltering.I didn’t waste time. I dropped, twisting free just as Thiago lunged.His fi
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. If this was a test, then I couldn’t afford to let them see any hesitation. Lucia grinned, sensing my frustration. “Don’t look so tense, Bridge. You wanted in, remember?” I shot her a glare. “You’re enjoying this way too much.” Thiago, who had been silent, stepped closer. His presence sent a ripple of awareness through me, but I refused to react. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single item—an old-fashioned stopwatch. “You have sixty seconds,” he said, pressing the button. I barely had time to register his words before Lucia shoved me—hard. My balance wavered, and the next thing I knew, I was tumbling down a small incline, my arms scraping against rough earth as I hit the ground with a grunt. I groaned, rolling onto my back, but before I could get up, Thiago’s voice called down to me. “Fifty seconds.” Shit. I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding as I took in my surroundings. The woods stretc
The next morning, the training began.Lucia wasn’t gentle. She didn’t ease me into it, didn’t give me time to hesitate.“Again,” she snapped as I stumbled back from a sharp blow to my ribs.I gritted my teeth, lifting my arms to block her next strike. My muscles burned, my breath came in ragged gasps, but I refused to fall.“Sloppy,” Lucia muttered. “You’re thinking too much. Stop trying to predict—react.”Thiago stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching. He hadn’t said a word since we started.I hated that I wanted his approval.I lunged forward, aiming a punch at Lucia’s side. She dodged effortlessly, then swept my legs out from under me. I hit the mat with a grunt.“Better,” she admitted. “But not good enough.”I glared up at her. “You love this, don’t you?”She smirked, offering a hand. “A little.”I ignored her and pushed myself up.Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thiago’s mouth twitch like he was fighting a smile.Lucia clapped her hands. “Alright, let’s move on. Time to ge
Lucia gripped the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Somebody better start talking before I drive this damn car into a wall.”Victor ran a hand down his face, still tense. “Santiago attacked Bridgette. Thiago handled it.”Lucia’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, locking onto me. “You handled it, didn’t you?”I swallowed, my fingers still curled into fists. The weight of the gun’s grip still felt imprinted on my palm.“She shot him,” Thiago confirmed, voice rough.Lucia nearly slammed the brakes. “You what?”“He was going to kill me,” I snapped, defensive. “I didn’t have a choice.”Silence.Then Lucia exhaled, shaking her head. “Damn it, Bridge.”Victor, however, was focused on something else. “He’s not dead?”Thiago’s lips curled in something almost amused. “No. But he’ll wish he was when he wakes up.”Victor cursed. “We should’ve finished him off. Now he knows Bridgette isn’t just some pawn—he’ll come for her harder.”My stomach twisted. He was right. This wasn’t the ki
I took a step back, my breath coming too fast. I needed space. Air. Something solid to hold on to, but all I had were shifting lies.Santiago watched me, his smirk fading into something more dangerous—anticipation. Like he was waiting for me to break.I wouldn’t give him that.I forced my voice steady. “You don’t get to decide for me.”Santiago sighed, almost bored. “You think you have a choice?” He gestured lazily with the gun. “You were born into this world, hija. You don’t just walk away from it.”Victor stepped forward, his hand subtly shifting toward his jacket. “She’s not you, Santiago.”Santiago laughed. “And you still think you can save her?” His amusement vanished in a blink. “I’m giving her a way out. If she’s smart, she’ll take it.”My heart pounded. “And if I don’t?”His expression darkened. “Then you’ll regret it.”A flicker of movement. A breath of warning.And then Victor lunged.I barely had time to react before he was on Santiago, knocking the gun aside. A shot rang o