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Chapter seven.

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last update Veröffentlichungsdatum: 18.03.2026 16:50:47

Bridget stared at the envelope on her desk like it might bite. The photos inside felt heavier than paper should. She shoved them back into the envelope, folded it twice, and tucked it into the bottom drawer under a stack of printouts. Her hands were steady now. The shock had burned through to something colder.

She glanced up. Alexander’s office blinds were still open. He stood at his window, arms crossed, watching her.

She typed a single line into their private text thread. The one they’d start
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  • Claimed by Her Father's Shadow    Chapter Eleven- Under the Table

    The Callahan house smelled like it always had. Garlic, tomato sauce, and the faint cedar undertone of Patrick’s aftershave. The dining room table was set casually with paper plates, plastic cups, two extra-large pizza boxes already open in the center. Patrick stood at the head, pouring wine into mismatched glasses, laughing at something Elena had just said.Bridget walked in first. Alexander followed a beat later, close enough that she felt the heat of him at her back, far enough that no one would notice.“Bridge! Alex!” Patrick’s face lit up. He pulled her into a quick hug, then clapped Alexander on the shoulder like they were still the same two men who’d once fixed a boat engine together at three in the morning. “About time. Elena got here early, said she couldn’t wait to see you two.”Elena turned from the kitchen doorway, wineglass in hand, smile polished and perfect. Her dark hair was swept into a low chignon, red dress hugging every curve she knew still turned heads. She looked

  • Claimed by Her Father's Shadow    Chapter 10- Family fire.

    Bridget stepped out of Alexander’s office and closed the door with a soft click. The hallway stretched ahead like a gauntlet. Her thighs still trembled, the ache between her legs sharp and insistent, a private reminder of how roughly he’d taken her just minutes ago. She could still feel him, hot, thick, filling her completely. Could still hear his growled ‘I love you’ vibrating against her skin.She made it back to her desk on autopilot and sat down carefully. Opening the Acme file, the numbers blurred into nonsense. All she could think about was pizza at her father’s house tonight. Alexander there. Patrick smiling like nothing had changed. Elena’s wine. The four of them around the same table where she used to draw while they laughed about old deals and bad golf swings.Marcus appeared at the edge of her cubicle, coffee mug in hand, grin too knowing.“Still breathing after the boss’s morning deep dive?” he asked, leaning against the partition. “You two were locked in there a while.”

  • Claimed by Her Father's Shadow    Chapter nine. Fractured edges.

    Bridget arrived at Ridge Enterprises at 7:45 a.m. on Friday, the video clip from Jake still looping in her mind like a bad song she couldn’t mute. She hadn’t slept more than two hours. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt his fingers digging into her wrist, heard his mocking laugh, saw the grainy frame freeze on her flinch. And then she saw Alexander’s face when he’d watched it over her shoulder last night, promising things he hadn’t said out loud.The twenty-third floor was still waking up. A few early analysts nodded as she passed. She dropped her bag at her desk, opened her laptop, and stared at the Acme revisions without really seeing them. Her phone buzzed once. Alexander.*My office. Door’s unlocked.*She stood, smoothed her navy pencil skirt, and walked the corridor, ignoring the whispers from her colleagues.His door was ajar, so she pushed it open.Alexander stood at the window, back to her, hands braced on the sill, shoulders rigid under the black dress shirt. The blind

  • Claimed by Her Father's Shadow    Chapter eight.

    Thursday morning felt like walking into a room where everyone had already read the script except her.Bridget arrived at 7:55 a.m., coffee in hand, eyes scanning the lobby for any face that didn’t belong. No Jake. No suspicious shadows. Still, the envelope from yesterday sat folded in her bag like a live grenade.The elevator ride up was silent except for her own breathing. When the doors opened on the twenty-third floor, Marcus, the CFO who’d once teased Alexander about her ‘wet T-shirt contest vibes’ was waiting at the coffee station. He raised his mug in greeting.“Morning, Callahan. You’re making the rest of us look bad showing up this early.”She forced a smile. “Gotta earn my keep.”He leaned in conspiratorially, voice low. “You and the boss seem… in sync lately. Late nights on that Acme deal?”Her stomach twisted. “Just doing my job.”Marcus chuckled. “Right. Just the job.” He winked, then walked off whistling.Favoritism. The word lodged in her throat.She dropped her bag at h

  • Claimed by Her Father's Shadow    Chapter seven.

    Bridget stared at the envelope on her desk like it might bite. The photos inside felt heavier than paper should. She shoved them back into the envelope, folded it twice, and tucked it into the bottom drawer under a stack of printouts. Her hands were steady now. The shock had burned through to something colder.She glanced up. Alexander’s office blinds were still open. He stood at his window, arms crossed, watching her.She typed a single line into their private text thread. The one they’d started using after Monday because work email felt too exposed.*We need to talk. Now.*His reply came in seconds.*My office. The door’s unlocked.*She stood, smoothed her skirt, and walked the corridor like nothing was wrong. Heads turned as she passed. Curious glances from analysts who’d already started whispering about the new hire getting special access. She ignored them.Inside his office, Alexander didn’t speak. He just locked the door behind her, crossed to his desk, and held out his hand.Sh

  • Claimed by Her Father's Shadow    Chapter six.

    Bridget walked into Ridge Enterprises at 7:50 a.m. on Wednesday like she was stepping onto a minefield.The lobby security guard gave her the same polite nod he’d given her every morning this week, but today it felt like he knew. Like everyone knew. She kept her head down in the elevator, staring at the polished steel doors instead of her reflection. She didn’t want to see the faint mark Alexander had left on the side of her neck last night. It was barely visible under concealer, but screaming to her.The twenty-third floor was already humming. Phones ringing softly, keyboards clacking, the low murmur of early-morning strategy calls. She dropped her bag at the small desk outside Alexander’s office. He’d assigned her on Monday with a curt “This is yours now” as he pretended to organize files while her pulse hammered.His door was closed. No light under it yet.She opened her laptop, pulled up the market analysis spreadsheet he’d emailed her at 1:14 a.m. Subject line: *Preliminary due d

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