CHAPTER 5

When I opened my eyes again, the room was already bathed in the warm embrace of morning light, as if the sun itself had been waiting patiently for me to join the world. 

My head pounded slightly, fragments of what happened last night lurking just beyond my memory's grasp. 

Yet, the first thing I did was quickly check my clothes. And I felt some sort of ease knowing  they were still intact, although messy from lying on the bed all night. Some relief washed over me—I guess nothing had happened with that blonde stranger and me again. 

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed to make another escape, but the door creaked open just as I was about to do so. 

My heart skipped a beat. 

There he stood—the same blonde from the night before was walking in, carefree and undressed in just a bathrobe that hung loosely, revealing his toned abs and chest, and a towel tied around his waist. 

He didn’t seem surprised to see me awake.

"And where do you think you’re going, damsel?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

For a moment, I was frozen. My eyes widened, captivated by the sight of his chiseled physique, every line and curve sculpted like a masterpiece. 

My brain was screaming at me to look away, but my body betrayed me, rooted to where I stood and unable to resist the temptation pulling me to remain staring at his beautiful body that once pressed against mine as he fucked me during our one-night stand. 

I could almost feel the drool threatening to form at the corner of my lips, and it was so humiliating that I wish he didn’t notice.

"Do you like what you see, Damsel?" he teased, snapping me back to reality. 

I blinked, my cheeks heating up as I quickly denied it. "I—No! Can you put on some damn clothes?"

But instead of backing off, he stepped closer, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. He was closing in, and with every inch he advanced, my resolve crumbled further. The heat between us was electric, making the air thick and suffocating. 

My panic instinct flared, and before I could think, I shoved him away, desperate for space to breathe. And that's when his towel slipped from his waist, and I gasped, covering my eyes with my hands before I could see anything more. 

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that only added to my embarrassment. "You’ve already seen and felt me, darling. What’s the point of being shy now?"

“You’re nuts!” I protested.

My heart pounded as I heard him make his way to the walk-in closet. "Wait for me outside, damsel," he said over his shoulder.

"No," I snapped, refusing to let him control the situation. "I want to leave right now."

He turned to face me, his expression serious for the first time. “That’s negative. You are not leaving until I say so.”

"And who are you to stop me?" I demanded.

"I’m your darling, remember?" he said, amusement lacing his tone.

I rolled my eyes. "Cut the crap and be serious."

“Well, if you insist on knowing me, I am Thiago Bermudez, but I would prefer you call me darling.” The name felt heavy on my tongue—like it carried weight I wasn’t ready to deal with.

"Now, let me leave, Thiago," I insisted. But he just shook his head, his stance firm.

"I told you that you can’t leave until I say so. Besides, we made a deal, right?"

"A deal?" I echoed, incredulous. "I was drunk last night! That doesn’t count."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Drunk or not, you owe to compensate me before you leave—especially after what you did last night."

My breath got caught up. What did he mean by that? 

I watched as he lowered the right side of his robe, revealing a series of hickeys and bite marks on his neck. The sight of them triggered a reel of memories. 

What the hell? I couldn’t believe I marked him last night and then promptly vomited on him afterwards.

My face burned with humiliation, and I couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Do you remember now, damsel?” He teased. “So as for your punishment, you will have to agree to becoming my wife as part of the deal.”

Feeling defeated, I had no choice but to oblige. "Fine," I muttered, defeated. "I’ll be your temporary wife, but you’re never touching me again. Got it?"

Thiago smirked, seemingly pleased with my agreement. "We’ll have talk further about that deal. But before we finalize anything, there’s one more thing."

I groaned. "What now?"

"We need to fly back to Miami tonight. There’s an auction I have to attend."

"Miami? Tonight?" I was shocked, as I couldn’t believe I had to return there again just after I only arrived in Monaco yesterday. "Why the rush?" I added asking.

He looked at me, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "I want to surprise my former family with my lovely new wife," he lied. I could feel there was more to it that he wasn’t telling me.

My mind raced. I had just arrived in Monaco yesterday, and now I was being whisked back to Miami for that selfish reason? 

This was happening too fast. But then I thought about my goal—revenge. Thiago seemed like a rich guy, and if Thiago’s wealth and connections could help me achieve that, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Thiago called in a team of stylists and makeup artists to prepare me for the evening. He was annoyingly hands-on in selecting my outfits, his eyes roving over my body with barely concealed desire every time I tried on a new dress.

"Pick your jaw up," I teased after the fifth time I caught him staring. "Or a fly’s going to wander in."

He smirked, clearly enjoying my banter. "I can’t help it. You’re quite the sight."

I didn’t want to admit it, but his words sent a thrill through me. Still, I couldn’t let him get too close. I quickly changed into the dress he had chosen for the auction—something sleek and black that hugged my curves in all the right places.

By the time evening rolled around, Thiago was waiting for me by the door, his eyes widening slightly as he took in my transformation. I smirked inwardly, glad I could still surprise him.

"I don’t think I still need to win anything at the auction," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I’ve already got the prize clinging to my arm," he added, leaning against my ear to whisper.

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my emotions in check. "Stop that. It cringes." I lied.

When we arrived at the auction, my heart raced. I knew my family would be there, and I was ready to make them pay. I slipped away from Thiago and sneaked into the operator’s room, bribing the visual operator to play a special video I had prepared. 

As I watched from a distance, the video played over the large screen, revealing a steamy scene between Derick and Agatha. The room erupted into chaos, and I reveled in the satisfaction of knowing I had exposed them both.

"Bridgette!" My father’s voice boomed through the hall, demanding my presence.

I stepped forward, holding my head high. "Did you like my homecoming gift, Father?"

His face contorted with fury, and his hand shot up, ready to strike. But before the blow could land, Thiago was at my side, his voice a menacing growl. "Dare to touch my wife, and you’ll regret it."

Thiago’s word, "wife," was heavy with domineering authority. My heart suddenly raced and I couldn’t help but ask myself, were we really married? 

Thiago's voice was so certain, so commanding, that it felt undeniably true.

“Thiago? You asshole! What did you do to my daughter?” My father’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and familiarity, as if he knew Thiago all too well.

Thiago’s hand lifted, revealing a wedding ring that gleamed with a chilling finality. "You heard me, right?. I said, She’s my wife."

A surge of defiance coursed through me. I couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. “Don’t pretend to care about me now. You disowned me, remember? You have no right to speak to me or my husband like that.”

My father's rage faltered, his hand dropping as he took a step back, realizing too late that he’d lost control of this situation.

Meanwhile, Derick and his mother, Cynthia, made their way to face me and Thiago as well. I could sense the fury that twisted Cynthia’s features. 

Suddenly, she jabbed a finger in my direction, her voice shrill with rage. "What the hell are you doing with my husband?" she screamed.

"Ex-husband, if I may remember it clearly, we’ve divorced.” Thiago cleared it, humiliating Cynthia.

Beside her, Derick sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "Well, if it isn’t my worthless ex-stepdad and my barren ex-wife," he taunted, his words dripping with venom.

“Of course, my good for nothing, former stepson.” Thiago replied, as though it didn’t bother him.

I turned to Thiago, my heart racing and my mind spinning. How could this be? 

Thiago never once mentioned that the family he spoke of was my own former in-laws. The shock hit me like a freight train—my soon-to-be husband wasn’t just older than me but happened to be my ex-husband’s ex-stepdad as well.

How did I get myself into this weird and awkward mess?