I didn’t sleep that night.The city buzzed below me, neon lights flashing like warnings I couldn’t decipher, while I sat curled up on the edge of my designer couch in a $5,000 suit that now felt like a straightjacket. My mind kept rewinding, skipping, looping like a broken tape—Thiago. Eduardo. Renner. The laptop. Cartagena.Had I been a pawn?No. No, Bridgette. You don’t get played.But… I had. Or worse, I’d played myself.By 4 a.m., Lucia was back at my place with two laptops, six double espressos, and a look that screamed she was also done playing nice.“We found something else.” She dropped one of the laptops onto the glass coffee table, its screen already glowing.“What is it?”“A burner email account tied to the Cartagena shell company. Draft folder only—someone was writing to Thiago. They didn’t send it, but the contents…” She hesitated. “You should read it yourself.”I pulled the laptop toward me, heart rattling in my ribs as I scrolled.Thiago,This isn’t what we agreed on. Y
Every empire has its reckoning.And mine? It was scheduled for Thursday at 11 a.m.The Bermudez Group’s emergency board meeting had been summoned under the guise of “financial restructuring”—a phrase that usually meant someone was about to be sacrificed. Thiago was still CEO. On paper. But I wasn’t just paper. I was legacy. Blood. The last woman standing from the Martinez dynasty.And thanks to Eduardo’s intel and Renner’s stupidity, I had more than enough ammunition to light the whole damn building on fire.“I don’t care how you do it,” I told Marcus on the way up to the 40th floor. “Just make sure every board member sees that email chain. I want the full display—projector, screenshots, the works.”Marcus smirked. “You want popcorn with that?”“Extra butter.”We rode the elevator in silence after that, the weight of what was coming pressing down like the top floor itself. Lucia had already taken her seat in the boardroom, flanked by two of our loyalists and a very confused junior ass
The old safehouse.It was one of our secrets. A quiet, almost-forgotten villa in Coconut Grove with vines creeping up the walls and a keypad entry that only three people knew about—Thiago, me, and the guy who installed it, who died two years ago.I punched in the code. The door opened with a low hiss.He was already there.Standing in the dim light, sleeves rolled, eyes shadowed and unreadable.“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.“And yet, here I am.”He poured himself a drink. Didn’t offer me one. That stung more than I cared to admit.“You’re bleeding my company,” I said, voice low. “One leak at a time.”“It’s not your company anymore.”“That’s funny,” I snapped. “Because I’m pretty sure my name’s still on the door.”He sipped slowly. “You think you can kill a god and not face wrath?”“I never believed you were a god,” I said. “Just a man who got too drunk on the power I helped him build.”He looked up. For the first time, his mask cracked—just a sliver. Enough for me to see something
They say the first blow stuns.But the second?The second breaks.And Thiago knew exactly where to hit me.I didn’t realize anything was wrong until Lucia walked into my office holding a plain envelope—no address, no sender, just my name in perfect block letters. Her face was pale. Eyes shaking.“I didn’t open it,” she said, her voice brittle. “But something’s… off.”I took it from her, sliding my finger under the flap with slow precision.Inside were photos.Printed. Glossy. Intentional.The first was of me and Marcus at our last strategy dinner, leaning too close, heads bent in conversation. Innocent, but easily twisted. The second was Lucia… leaving my building late at night. Alone. Vulnerable. The third was a shot of my driver’s kid—Daniella—playing outside her school.The fourth?Was of me.Asleep.In my bed.In my penthouse.That picture made my stomach hollow out.Same silk pillowcase. Same slight wrinkle in the corner of the duvet. The photo had been taken from the adjoining b
The road north blurred beneath my tires, a straight stretch of asphalt cutting through scrub and sky. I kept one hand clenched on the wheel, the other gripping the key Thiago gave me like it might burn a hole through my palm.Forty-five minutes.That’s what he said.Forty-five minutes, and I’d be at the safehouse. At Lucia.My mind wouldn’t stop racing. Why would she do that? Sacrifice herself for me? What did she think would happen—that I’d just stop?She knew me better than anyone.She should’ve known that taking herself out of the fight would only throw me into a fury. Should’ve known I’d scorch the world if it meant getting her back.And yet… she’d done it anyway.Because that’s what love looks like when it’s not poisoned by control or dressed up in obsession.It looks like loyalty.Like quiet defiance wrapped in silk.Like Lucia.**The safehouse was buried behind a cluster of pines near an abandoned water tower, exactly where Thiago said it would be. The gravel crunched beneath
By the time I reached the top floor, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind something rawer—like scraped skin under silk. I could still feel the echo of Thiago’s voice in my ear, still smell his cologne in the elevator like a haunting.You’ll never get that.His absence.Maybe he was right.Maybe I’d never truly be free of him, not when every victory I earned still carried the ghost of his hands somewhere in the shadows. But that didn’t mean I had to let him stay in my life. He could linger in memory, in scar tissue—but not here. Not anymore.The executive suite had already been cleared.Victor stood behind my old desk—my new desk again—his tie slightly loosened and his laptop open. He looked up the moment he saw me.“Well?”I dropped the signed resolution on the desk.“Unanimous.”He gave a low whistle. “Damn. You really did it.”“Of course I did it,” I said, collapsing into the leather chair. “I told you I would.”He nodded. “I know. But that was before he strolled in like a Bo
I didn’t sleep. Not because I couldn’t, but because I wouldn’t.Sleep meant silence. Darkness. Space for my thoughts to twist around his voice like barbed wire. And right now, I couldn’t afford that luxury. I spent the night combing through my father’s old records, scanning for clues, pieces—anything Thiago might’ve leveraged to bait me.But I came up empty.I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.That was the most dangerous part.By noon, I was standing at the address Thiago texted—an old, nondescript warehouse tucked between the abandoned ends of the Miami shipping district. Classic. The kind of place where secrets didn’t just get told; they got buried.The guards outside didn’t question me. They just opened the door.Because of course they did.He still thinks I belong to him.The inside was dark, silent, save for the flicker of a single overhead light near the far end of the space. It lit up a long metal table—and Thiago, standing at the head of it like he’d just called a damn
It took less than two minutes for the flash drive to crack open.Encrypted, of course. My mother wouldn’t make it easy—that would be too humane for her. But Lucia was a genius, and stubbornness ran through our veins like inherited poison.I watched the loading bar fill, the digital hum of secrets about to detonate vibrating through my bones. It felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall would break me but leaning forward anyway.The folder auto-opened once decrypted. A list of documents. Names. Transfers. Voice memos.Lucia frowned as she clicked into the first file.Then, she cursed.“What?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.“Bridgette…” she turned the screen toward me. “Your father knew.”I leaned forward, eyes scanning.It was an internal email chain from five years ago.Subject line: “Containment Strategy – Tier II Entities.”The sender: Antonio Martinez.The recipient list included names I didn’t recognize—aliases, most likely. But two names I did know j
The next few days were filled with a sense of impending danger. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking on a tightrope, and any misstep would send everything crashing down. Thiago seemed just as on edge as I was, though he didn’t show it on the surface. But I could see it in his eyes—the same hunger, the same drive, the same readiness for whatever came next.I met him in his office late one afternoon. He was reviewing documents, his sharp gaze scanning the pages with an intensity that was almost unsettling."Thiago," I said softly, stepping into his space. He didn’t look up, but I could feel the tension in his posture. "Leah called me last night."His eyes flicked up to meet mine, narrowing slightly. "What did she want?"I hesitated, then told him everything she had said. "She thinks she can make a deal, but I don’t trust her. This isn’t over."Thiago placed the papers down carefully, then stood, crossing the room to stand in front of me. His presence was overwhelming, and fo
The city skyline shimmered under the evening lights as I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of Thiago's penthouse. The weight of recent events pressed heavily on my shoulders. Leah's calculated moves had thrown our world into disarray, and the revelation of her betrayal still echoed in my mind.Thiago entered the room, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Bridgette," he began, his voice steady, "we need to talk."I turned to face him, searching his eyes for answers. "About Leah?"He nodded. "She's not just targeting the company; she's targeting us—our relationship, our future."I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "We can't let her win."He approached, taking my hands in his. "Then let's fight back. Together."The next morning, Lucia, Marcus, and I convened in the conference room. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation.Lucia began, "We've traced the leak to a secure server. Only a handful of people had access."Marcus added,
The days that followed felt like a slow, meticulous countdown. The taste of victory was still fresh, but the knowledge that the war was far from over lingered in the back of my mind. Leah was not one to surrender easily, and I knew she'd find another way to fight back. But for now, the cards were in our hands.Thiago had been unusually quiet since the meeting, his focus sharp, but there was an intensity in his eyes that I couldn’t shake off. As if he was preparing for something I couldn’t yet see.I sat across from him one evening in the penthouse, papers scattered in front of me, but my thoughts were far from the numbers on the page. My mind kept wandering to Leah—how she had looked at me when she left the room, her smile not one of defeat, but of patience, like she was biding her time. That worried me more than any immediate retaliation.Thiago leaned forward, breaking my thoughts. "You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?"I met his gaze, not surprised that he had read me so easily.
By noon, I couldn’t pretend the walls weren’t closing in.The silence after Leah’s visit wasn't the kind that gave you peace—it was the kind that echoed. Every word she’d said, every warning she dripped like poison, kept looping in my mind like a cursed song I couldn’t turn off.Thiago was mine long before you walked into his life.You’re carrying a weapon.I stood in the shower longer than necessary, letting the water scald away the chill that had crept beneath my skin. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn’t rinse her off me.When I stepped out, I found Thiago waiting.He didn’t knock. He just stood there in the doorway, sleeves rolled, tie gone, shirt clinging to him like armor that no longer fit.“You’ve been quiet,” he said.“So have you.”He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him like he was sealing us off from the world.“You want to yell at me?” he asked. “Do it. I can take it.”I didn’t yell. I dried my hands on a towel, then looked at him square in the eyes.“Was
The next morning, I didn’t wake up to the usual soft chime of my alarm or the scent of espresso brewing from Thiago’s automated machine. I woke up to silence.Too much silence.The kind that settles like a fog in the bones, whispering that something has shifted. That something is wrong.I sat up, the silk sheets slipping off my skin as I reached for my phone. No new messages. No updates from Lucia or Marcus. Not even a single email from the security firm Thiago had commissioned. The stillness wasn’t peace—it was calculated quiet.Someone had pulled the plug.I moved quickly, throwing on one of Thiago’s button-downs, not bothering to fasten every button as I padded across the floor, phone in hand. I headed straight for the control panel by the wall—one that synced to the penthouse’s surveillance and internal comms. The screen lit up. Offline.“What the hell?”I tapped the screen again. Nothing.“Thiago?” I called out. No answer. My voice echoed back at me.That’s when the hairs on the
Bridgette’s POVI stood in front of the penthouse window, watching the city lights blink below me. Everything looked so peaceful from here, but I knew better. Behind the glimmering exterior, everyone was moving, plotting, fighting, hiding. Even the glass separating me from the world below felt like a wall between reality and illusion.Thiago had done his part—leaving no stone unturned, going after every single person who might have leaked information about my pregnancy. At least, that’s what he said. But that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t rely entirely on him. This was my fight too. And I wasn’t about to be dragged into a game I didn’t understand.I let out a long breath and walked back to the table, picking up the digital tablet in front of me. Lucia, Marcus, and the rest of the team were still waiting for the next move. There were no comforting words from Thiago; just the calculated look in his eyes whenever he saw me. He seemed pleased with the progress. He was the kind of man who belie
Bridgette’s POVThe war room atmosphere had descended on the office.Lucia, Marcus, and a handful of trusted executives gathered in the conference room, their faces grim. Even the interns sensed the tension and kept their heads down. No one wanted to be in the crossfire, not when the walls seemed to have ears—and possibly eyes.I stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, scanning the room.“This leak wasn’t random,” I said. “Someone here is feeding intel. And considering how quickly it reached the public… it had to come from someone high up.”Lucia nodded in agreement, tapping at her tablet. “We traced the earliest gossip back to an anonymous tip sent to three digital tabloids. Same language. Same phrasing. It wasn’t a coincidence.”Marcus leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “And you’re thinking it was someone in this room?”I didn’t flinch. “I’m thinking someone in this room knows who.”The silence was deafening.Thiago’s POVI arrived midway through the meeting, my presence d
The next few hours felt like I was walking through a fog, each step heavy with the weight of what was at stake. The note had shaken me more than I cared to admit, but it was also a wake-up call. I couldn’t let this go unnoticed. Not now.I grabbed my phone, dialed Marcus’s number, and pressed it to my ear. The ringing felt like an eternity.“Bridgette,” he answered, voice smooth, like he hadn’t just been part of the most volatile corporate environment I’d ever been in.“Marcus,” I said, keeping my tone level. “I need to know if you’ve had anything to do with the leak.”There was a long pause, longer than I expected.“Bridgette, you know I don’t get involved in... sensationalist games. That’s not my style,” he replied. The casualness of his words didn’t sit right.“I’m not asking about style. I’m asking about leaks.” I pressed, my voice tightening. “You had access to sensitive information, and I need to know if you gave it to anyone.”There was another beat of silence before Marcus spo
[BRIDGETTE'S POV]The sound of Thiago’s breathing lulled me. Slow. Steady. Unshaken.I hated that.How could he lie there like he wasn’t on the edge of something catastrophic? Like our whole reality hadn’t shifted the second I handed him that test?Maybe it had always been this way—me unraveling in silence while he anchored us with that dangerous, deliberate calm.I lifted my head slightly, just enough to watch him sleep. His face looked younger like this. Less ruthless. The weight of control he always carried had slipped off, if only for the night.I should’ve felt safer. I didn’t.I felt... seen.And being seen terrified me more than the test ever could.I slipped out of bed before dawn, dragging the blanket with me like armor. My feet found the cold marble of the penthouse floor, but I didn’t flinch.I needed space.Not to run—Just to breathe.The bathroom lights were too harsh, so I settled on the balcony. The city was just waking up. Lights blinking to life like a million eyes f