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
Days had passed since Matthias and Julia's wedding, but the words Thiago said at the hospital kept replaying in my mind. He wanted more than our contract. More than the absurd contract we had—now he wanted a genuine relationship with me. It was as if my brain had short-circuited at that moment, unable to process the meaning behind it. Genuine relationship? Those words didn’t belong in the same sentence as Thiago Bermudez. I had chalked it up to a whim. Maybe it was because of the short flutter of excitement he'd felt when he thought I could be pregnant, which was why he suddenly said that. He always enjoyed control, after all, and a child—his child—would be the ultimate tie between us. But genuine feelings? I couldn’t seem to accept that. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the distraction. Work was piling up, and Lucia had been waiting for me to sign off on a stack of docume
I sat there, stunned.Thiago Bermudez—the man who always had a plan, who never left anything to chance—was admitting that he wasn’t in control. That he was, in some way, vulnerable to me.“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.He leaned back, his gaze never leaving mine, giving me the space to process. But I knew he wasn’t going to wait forever. Thiago wasn’t the type to give anyone endless time to figure things out. He was patient, but only to a point."Say whatever you're feeling, Wifey" he suggested, his tone gentler than usual. “I don’t expect you to have an answer right now, but I need you to be honest.”Honesty? With Thiago? The man who thrived on power games and manipulation? It seemed ironic. And yet, here he was, asking for something that made my chest tighten with uncertainty.I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can trust this,
The next morning, the air was thick with anticipation as I prepared to meet the mysterious sender. My mind spun with possibilities—what could they know about Thiago that I didn’t? And why now?I arrived at Bayleaf restaurant early, my stomach churning. I had barely slept, the weight of last night’s conversation with Thiago still pressing on me. Was I walking into some kind of trap, or was this person genuinely trying to help me?I ordered a coffee, forcing myself to remain calm as I waited for the stranger to arrive. The minutes felt like hours, my mind running through every possible scenario. Was this some business rival trying to sow doubt in my relationship with Thiago? Or worse, was this someone from Thiago’s past?As the clock struck 10 AM, a man approached my table. He was tall, dressed in a well-tailored suit, his face unfamiliar. His expression was serious, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on me.“Bridgette Martinez?” he asked, his voice low but firm.I nodded, my
The mysterious man I met yesterday wouldn’t leave my mind. His dark, penetrating gaze, the way he casually hinted at Thiago’s secrets without ever revealing his own name—it all gnawed at me. There was a chill in the way he spoke, as if he knew something that I didn’t. Something dangerous. And as much as I wanted to pretend that I didn’t care, that I could confront Thiago directly, a part of me was terrified.What was Thiago hiding?He wasn’t the type to offer his secrets freely. I knew that much. But I had to know the truth, even if it was ugly. No, especially if it was ugly. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to uncover, but the gnawing feeling that Thiago was hiding something dark couldn’t be ignored.That’s why I hired Marcus.Marcus caught my attention the moment I saw him in the café, mostly because of his ridiculous polka-dotted red tie. It was completely out of place, clashing horribly with the gray, nondescript suit he wore. It almost made me doubt his abilities—almost.“Mrs.
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
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
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
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
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
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
"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
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
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