Todos os capítulos de My Sister's Fiance: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

The house went into motion again after that. Suitcases were carried downstairs. Mamá stuffed snacks into the kids’ bags like we were crossing continents with no access to food. Papá called the airport. Delano came by to say goodbye and got kissed twice by Issa because, according to her, “goodbye should have production value.” Max ran through the hallway with a toy plane until Theo caught him by the back of his T-shirt.I moved fast from room to room, gathering chargers, tablets, headbands, one tiny shoe that had somehow ended up in the library, and whatever was left of my dignity.Fiona disappeared for almost an hour.When she showed up again in the foyer, she was beautiful again. One of the most Gómez things about us: we could be disappointed and still look expensive.“Kids,” she said, opening her arms.Issa ran to her first, of course. Drama queens always preferred an audience that understood lighting. Max followed a few seconds later, mostly because he saw his sister getting hugged

Mornings in Oregon always started with rain that sounded polite.Not Latin rain, the kind that came down like it was here to contest a will. The rain here tapped softly against the huge kitchen windows, like it was asking permission first.I was already at the stove before the sun had fully woken up, flipping arepas and occasionally glancing at the laptop open on the island. My Northlake inbox was full, as usual. Claire had sent the final agenda. Ethan had sent a revised attendee list. Tania had sent three messages, all with the same energy:(Boss, please don’t kill anyone if they ask for a scope change at the start of the meeting.)I poured eggs into the pan, took a sip of coffee, and looked around my kitchen, which, for once, actually felt like home again.Not a bunker.Not a guard post.Home.Bianna came down first, still wearing an oversized gray zip-up hoodie with sunglasses pushed up on her head. She yawned, opened the fridge, and pulled out Greek yogurt like it was one of her co

Ethan, a man seemingly assembled from spreadsheets and bad intentions, straightened on the screen. “Since we’re all here,” he said, his CFO smile as slick as a marble tabletop, “let me do this properly.”I reached for the bottle of mineral water in front of me. The glass was cold against my fingers. I needed something cold before my old instincts told me to throw a stylus at someone’s forehead.“Arabella,” Ethan went on, “this is Zachary de Sanctis. Principal behind the acquisition, chairman and controlling owner of Casa de Sanctis.”Zach had already pulled out the chair at the end of the table.He sat down like this room had belonged to him back when the building was still concrete and debt. His dark suit was immaculate without looking stiff. The watch at his wrist flashed once when he set one hand on the table. His expression was flat, almost bored.“Casa de Sanctis,” Ethan added, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on the room, “is the parent entity managing this acquisition.

I couldn’t answer. It felt like my tongue had frozen too.“Do you know what private infrastructure clients hear when a vendor walks out in the middle of a transition?” He paused for half a second. “Not that pretty woman is stressed. They hear unstable. Under-capitalized. Not ready for scale.”My breathing shifted.“Two calls to the bank backing your operating line,” he said, “one disclosure to the insurer, one rumor wrapped in legal language, and your little Seattle expansion dies before the logo even makes it onto the glass.”I bit the inside of my cheek until the taste of iron rose on my tongue. “So this,” I said finally, “isn’t just you buying your way back into my life. You also checked my financials like a stalker.”“Due diligence.” His eyes never left my face.I wanted to laugh. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to smash my work bag into his head.Instead, I lifted my chin. “You think this scares me?”“No.” He held my gaze a few seconds too long. “I think it makes you stop lying to

Max was still clinging to me. I shifted him onto the kid seat at the end of the island, lowering him carefully until he landed on the white cushion. He pouted immediately, one hand still guarding the upper arm that had just been “wounded in battle.”“I want to sit far away from her,” he muttered, glaring at Issa with a look of deep personal betrayal.Issa walked to the kid seat beside his without needing to be told twice. She sat with a tiny movement far too graceful for a four-year-old, tugged her yellow dress down, then flipped her hair back. Very queen. Very sassy.“That was your decision,” she said, reaching for her water glass. “I’m still iconic.”Max turned slowly. “You’re violent.”Issa gave a shrug. “And I’m pretty.”Arianna pressed a hand to her chest. “I love seeing the younger generation walk around with completely unreasonable self-esteem.”Sienna slid the plate of quesadillas closer to the twins, then set a small bowl of salsa between them. “If either of you dips a hand i