FEW DAYS AFTER what seemed to be a chaotic week at the office, was already making me feel lightheaded each morning. I had gone used to seeing Thiago left the side of my bed empty each morning that today was a total surprised for me.I stirred awake, feeling the warmth of the early morning light streaming through the sheer curtains. And as my eyes blinked open, I was startled to find Thiago already awake, watching me intently. His half-naked form lounged beside me, his gaze burning into mine as if he'd been studying me for hours.“Morning, Wifey” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.I blinked rapidly, the grogginess of sleep still clinging to me. “Thia—darling?” My voice was barely a whisper, my heart doing that annoying flutter it always did when he was this close.He grinned, clearly enjoying my reaction. Without warning, his hand moved to cup my face, pulling me towards him for a deep, lingering kiss. His lips, warm and demanding, made me momentarily forget my confusion. My han
The car ride to the wedding was filled with an uncomfortable silence. I stared out of the window, watching the city blur past as my mind raced. I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be another one of Thiago’s carefully orchestrated games. He always had a plan—a way to keep me guessing, off-balance, and completely under his control.Thiago sat beside me, calm and composed, his hand resting possessively on my thigh. His touch, though light, felt like a reminder that no matter where we were headed, I was still bound to him.“You’re awfully quiet,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, as though he hadn’t just upended my entire day. “Thinking about something?”I glanced at him, the weight of his question heavy in the air. “Just trying to figure out what your angle is,” I replied, my tone sharper than I intended. “You always have one.”His lips curved into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly, studying me with that unnerving intensity. “You think I need
Thiago’s hand slid up my thigh, disappearing under the hem of my dress. My breath caught in my throat as I realized just how bold he was being. We were standing just behind the door to the restrooms at a crowded wedding reception, and anyone could walk by at any second.His fingers found their way to my most sensitive spot, and a sharp gasp escaped my lips. I bit down hard, trying to suppress the sound, but the intensity of his touch was overwhelming. Thiago smirked, clearly enjoying the control he had over me in that moment.“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” he whispered against my ear, his voice dark and teasing. “I can feel how wet you are.”“Thiago… stop,” I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper. But even as I said the words, I knew they lacked conviction. My body was betraying me, responding to him in ways I couldn’t deny.He laughed softly, the sound low and dangerous. “Stop? You don’t really want me to stop, do you, Wifey?”I tried to fight it, tried to regain control of th
The moment Thiago’s lips collided with mine, it was as though everything around us ceased to exist. His kiss was forceful, needy, and overwhelming, pulling me into a vortex of raw desire that I couldn’t escape—even if I wanted to. I could feel his body pressing into mine, and I gasped, overwhelmed by the heat between us.“Thiago,” I muttered between kisses, my breath catching as I felt his hands slide down my body. I could barely think straight. “My dress… it’s going to get ruined.”But Thiago was relentless, his lips brushing against my neck, his hand already at the back of my dress. Before I could even finish my sentence, I heard the sound of the zipper sliding down. His fingers moved deftly, and the fabric slipped off my shoulders, exposing my bare skin.“You’re not really worried about this dress, are you?” he whispered against my ear, his voice dripping with amusement. “You just want to get this thing started quickly, my naughty wifey.”I tried to protest, but the words caught in
After the steamy moment inside the car, I felt flushed as Thiago carefully helped me adjust my clothes. The heat of our earlier encounter still clung to the air between us, making it almost impossible to focus. Thiago was nonchalant, his face relaxed as he pulled his pants back up, as though what had just happened was the most natural thing in the world. “Fix your hair, wifey,” Thiago said, smirking as he reached out to tuck a stray strand behind my ear.I slapped his hand away playfully, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”He chuckled, stepping out of the car before offering me his hand. “We can’t keep the newlyweds waiting.”The reception hall loomed ahead, buzzing with laughter and conversation. As we walked in, I felt a wave of awkwardness wash over me. The guests were older, many of them probably around my father’s age. I tugged slightly at my dress, suddenly conscious of how out of place I felt. I couldn’t help but glance at Thiago, who was moving with his usual confidence, c
The rest of the evening passed in a haze. I stayed close to Thiago, playing the role he expected of me—his arm candy, the woman by his side. But inside, my thoughts were spiraling.Every time Mathias or Julia came over to chat, my stomach churned. I couldn’t shake the image of Thiago sealing a deal that could ruin my father. The fact that he’d orchestrated this entire evening to meet with Mathias, all while pretending it was just a wedding invitation, made me feel used. Yet, I stayed. I stayed because walking away now felt impossible.As the evening wore on, Thiago excused himself to take a call. It left me alone at the table, sipping champagne while watching the other guests mingle. I glanced at the bride and groom across the room, laughing together with a group of friends. It was hard to imagine them divorced from other people, only to find their way back to each other. “Bridgette, right?” a voice interrupted my thoughts.I looked up to see Julia standing beside me, her smile warm
The night had gone better than expected—for Thiago, at least. As the wedding’s celebration was winding down, and the deal was secured. I stood beside him, watching as he and Mathias exchanged knowing glances and handshakes. The Saskatchewan project was officially in Thiago’s hands. My father’s belief of victory aftering notching Saskatchewan ahead of Bermudez Group was about to crumble, and Mathias, the man who was supposed to be my father’s trusted contractor, had just sealed the deal to betray him.I should’ve been happy. I should’ve felt triumphant, proud even, of being part of this powerful play that would topple the Martinez corp. But instead, there was this heavy, unbearable weight on my chest.I watched Thiago, his smirk widening as Mathias congratulated him. The way they toasted to their success made my stomach churn. The glass of champagne in my hand felt cold, distant, like it belonged to someone else. Everything felt distant, actually. As if I was on the outside, looking
I sat there in stunned silence, the weight of Thiago’s words sinking into my chest. Me? Pregnant?The possibility gnawed at me, twisting my thoughts into knots. My hands trembled slightly, and I could feel the blood drain from my face.Thiago, still watching me closely, leaned forward and took my hand, his fingers warm and steady. "Wifey, I want you to tell me seriously."I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "I am not pregnant, thiago. I just had my period last month and I am not even delayed yet. So how the heck am I even pregnant?" My eyes darted around the room as if the walls would offer some escape. But there was no way out of this conversation. "And aren’t we always careful about having sex, right?"He nodded but didn’t seem as shaken by the possibility as I was. "Careful, yes. But not foolproof."A shaky breath escaped my lips. "So what if I really am pregnant? What does this mean for us? For you telling me that it changes everything? Didn’t you stated in the clause that
He met me at the rooftop bar of the Grove, as if nothing had changed.Victor leaned back in the booth, looking too polished. Too calm. Like someone who didn’t think his world was about to collapse.“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he said, sipping from a tumbler of scotch. “Is this about Thiago?”I sat across from him, dropped the printouts on the table.He didn’t touch them.“You could at least pretend you don’t know what this is.”He exhaled slowly. “I won’t insult you.”“So it’s true.”“Yes.”A silence stretched, thin and tight as piano wire.“How long?” I asked.“Since before Bermudez Group,” he said. “Since your father needed someone to protect you from the inside. Someone to make sure the sharks didn’t circle.”“By being the shark?”He flinched, just barely.“I never lied to you about what I was,” he said. “You just never asked the right questions.”“You should’ve told me,” I whispered.“I couldn’t. You wouldn’t have believed me. And I needed you to stay clean.”I shook my
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
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
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
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
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 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
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
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