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 sharp 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.

I had handled the situation exactly the way a CEO should.

Calm. Firm. Controlled.

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.

As if she had already left long before she walked out of that hallway.

I frowned slightly and pushed the thought away.

She crossed a line.

Simple.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.”

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

“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 for another second before nodding quickly.

“Understood.”

She turned and left the office.

The door closed softly behind her.

I exhaled and turned back toward the window.

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

And right now I have more important priorities.

Clara.

My thoughts drifted backward before I could stop them.

Back then, the three of us had been inseparable.

Me, Clara, and Thalia.

Those summers felt endless.

Thalia had always been the loudest one.

The spoiled princess of the Wentworth family.

Fearless.

Dramatic.

Always dragging the rest of us into whatever adventure she had planned that day.

Clara was the complete opposite.

Quiet.

Gentle.

Shy.

She followed Thalia everywhere like a shadow.

One hot afternoon.

The stadium was packed. The sun burned against my neck. I was sprinting across the football field, eyes on the goal.

The ball came fast. Too fast.

I went for it, shoulder first, trying to block the other player. 

Then… I felt it.

Pain exploded in my side as I hit the ground hard, hearing a crack echo in my skull. 

Everything blurred.

Voices. Shouts. My teammates’ panic. Then darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room stared back at me.

The smell of antiseptic filled the air.

Machines beeped quietly beside my bed.

My head throbbed.

My entire body felt like it had been crushed.

“Brandon?”

The voice was small and hesitant.

I turned my head.

Clara sat beside the bed.

Her hair was messy, and dark circles framed her tired eyes.

“You’re awake,” she whispered.

A doctor came in and checked my vitals.

“You’ve been unconscious for a whole week,” he explained.

A week. Seven days.

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

“I stayed,” she said softly.

“What?”

“The whole time.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

“I didn’t leave.”

Later a nurse confirmed it.

Clara had refused to go home.

She slept in the chair beside my hospital bed.

Ate vending machine snacks.

Argued with nurses who tried to make her rest.

She stayed there every single day.

That was the moment everything changed.

That was when I fell in love with her.

But life had a way of ruining everything.

Years later our families stepped in.

They arranged my marriage to Thalia.

Business alliances.

Social standing.

Status.

Clara disappeared before the wedding.

Just vanished.

For five years I heard nothing from her.

Not a single message.

Not a single explanation.

Then, a few weeks ago, she walked back into my office like a ghost from the past.

And she wasn’t alone.

She was holding the hand of a little boy.

Dark curls.

Dark eyes.

The child looked up at me curiously.

Clara’s voice trembled slightly.

“He’s my son.”

The words hit me like thunder.

She told me everything after that.

She left because my mother threatened her and after leaving the country, she married a man simply to survive.

But the marriage had been a nightmare.

Her husband was an alcoholic.

A drug addict.

He beat her constantly.

For years, she had endured it, trying to protect her child.

Until finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

She fought her way out of that life and escaped with her son.

With nowhere else to go…

She came back to me.

The memory of the pain in her eyes tightened something in my chest.

My heart ached for her.

No one deserved to suffer like that.

Not Clara.

I had made a promise to myself that day.

I would protect her.

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 right now!”

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 like an angry storm cloud.

“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 entirely.

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

I walked to the bar cart and poured myself a drink.

“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 had pulled tricks like this before.

Years ago, when I canceled our honeymoon because of work, she left a letter in an envelope demanding an apology before she would come home.

I didn’t apologize.

Two days later she returned on her own.

The memory made me shake my head slightly.

This was probably the same thing again.

Another dramatic stunt.

Another childish demand for attention.

I was too tired to deal with it tonight.

“I’ll look at it later,” I said.

Bailey blinked.

“You’re not even going to open it?”

“Not tonight.”

Just then, my phone rang again.

This time it was my secretary.

I answered.

“Yes?”

Her voice sounded cautious.

“Mr. Langford… I thought you should know.”

“Know what?”

There was a brief pause.

“Mrs. Langford submitted her resignation today.”