FIVE

BRANDON

The first thing I felt was anger.

It sat heavy in my chest all afternoon, refusing to fade.

I stood in my office at Langford Pharmaceuticals, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Traffic crawled below like ants. People moved through their ordinary lives while mine felt like it had been hijacked by chaos.

Thalia’s face flashed in my mind again.

The sound of that slap echoed just as clearly as it had outside the conference room.

My jaw tightened.

I still couldn’t believe she had done it.

Clara had stood there, one hand pressed to her cheek, while half the executive board watched. Her eyes had been shining with tears. The entire hallway had gone silent.

The humiliation burned hotter the more I thought about it.

You don’t put your hands on anyone in my building.

My building.

The words had come out exactly the way they should have. Calm. Firm. Controlled.

That was how a CEO handled situations.

Still, something about the way Thalia looked when she walked away bothered me.

She hadn’t looked angry.

She hadn’t looked embarrassed either.

Just… distant.

I pushed the thought away.

She crossed a line.

Simple.

A knock sounded on my door.

“Come in.”

Lydia from HR stepped inside, holding a tablet. She looked uneasy.

“Mr. Langford, I came regarding Mrs. Langford—”

“I don’t want to hear anything about Thalia right now.”

The words came out sharper than I intended.

Lydia blinked.

“Sir, it’s about a document she submitted—”

“I said I’m not interested.”

Silence filled the room.

Lydia hesitated another second before nodding quickly.

“Understood.”

She turned and left the office.

The door closed softly behind her.

I exhaled slowly and turned back to the window.

Protecting the company mattered more than whatever stunt Thalia was pulling today.

And right now I had more important priorities.

Clara.

The past slipped into my thoughts before I could stop it.

Back then the three of us were inseparable.

Me, Clara and Thalia.

Summer afternoons felt endless in those days.

Thalia had always been the loudest one.

She was the spoiled princess of the Wentworth family, fearless and dramatic, dragging everyone into whatever trouble she wanted to start that day.

Clara was the opposite.

Quiet. Gentle. Shy.

She followed Thalia everywhere like a shadow.

I remembered one afternoon on the school track field.

The heat. The cheering crowd. The regional sports competition.

I had been sprinting down the lane when my foot caught the edge of a marker.

One second I was running.

The next—

Nothing.

When I opened my eyes again, a hospital ceiling stared back at me.

The air smelled like antiseptic.

Machines beeped softly beside the bed.

My entire body ached.

“Brandon?”

The voice was small.

I turned my head.

Clara sat beside the bed.

Her hair was messy. Dark circles framed her eyes.

“You’re awake,” she whispered.

A doctor stepped in and checked my vitals.

“You’ve been unconscious for three days,” he said.

Three days.

After the doctor left, Clara leaned forward and held my hand.

“I stayed,” she said softly.

“What?”

“The whole time,” she said. “I didn’t leave.”

Later a nurse confirmed it.

Clara had refused to go home.

She slept in a chair beside my bed.

Ate vending machine snacks.

Argued with nurses who tried to make her rest.

She stayed there the entire three days.

That was the moment everything changed.

That was when I fell in love with her.

Years later everything fell apart.

Our families arranged my marriage to Thalia.

Business alliances.

Social standing.

Clara disappeared before the wedding.

Then she returned.

A few months ago.

She walked into my office holding the hand of a little boy.

Dark curls.

Dark eyes.

“Your son,” she said.

The words hit like thunder.

She told me she discovered the pregnancy shortly before my wedding. By the time she realized what was happening, the marriage arrangement was already set.

Now the boy was four years old.

And I had a responsibility.

I would protect them.

No matter what.

My phone rang suddenly.

Bailey’s name flashed across the screen.

I answered.

“What is it?”

Her voice exploded through the speaker.

“Your wife has completely lost her mind!”

I frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

“You need to come back, now!!” Bailey shouted. 

I rubbed my temple.

“I’m on my way.”

The call ended.

***

Night traffic buzzed through the city as I drove back to the estate.

When I stepped inside, Bailey was pacing in the living room.

“Oh good,” she said when she saw me. “You’re finally back.”

I loosened my tie.

“Start talking.”

“She came in with a box of office junk,” Bailey said. “Looked like a hurricane hit her.”

“And?”

“She refused to cook dinner.”

I stared at her.

“That’s your complaint?”

Bailey ignored the comment.

“She threatened me on the stairs,” she continued. “Then she packed a suitcase and walked out.”

I poured myself a drink from the bar cart.

“You’re telling me my wife left the house because you asked her to cook?”

“That’s not the point,” Bailey snapped.

She grabbed something from the coffee table.

“She told me to give you this.”

A manila envelope.

My name was written across the front in Thalia’s handwriting.

“What is it?” I asked.

Bailey shrugged.

“No idea. She wouldn’t say.”

I turned the envelope once in my hand.

Then I placed it back on the table. 

Thalia has played tricks like this before, and it was not surprising. Back then, when I skipped our honeymoon, she left a letter in an envelope saying I needed to apologize before she would come home. I did not, and she came home herself two days later.

I bet she wanted an apology letter again because of the suspension, and I’m too tired to get worked up over this.

I’ll deal with it later.”

Bailey blinked.

“You’re not even going to open it?”

“Not tonight.”