All Chapters of Married to the Devil: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Tristan’s POVI sat at the head of the conference room at Castillo Logistics, my eyes fixed on the map of shipping routes projected on the screen. One of the executives stood at the far end, speaking. “A massive labor strike has completely shut down a major port where most of our clients’ goods are trapped. If we don’t reroute to the secondary port by tonight, our biggest retail client loses their entire inventory.”A low ripple of murmurs drifted through the room. Demurrage fees. Breach of contract. Client lawsuits.I let them panic for exactly thirty seconds before I raised a single hand. The room went dead quiet. “What’s the financial hit if we wait out the strike, Robert?” I asked. Robert hesitated. “Conservative estimate? About fifty thousand per container in demurrage by the end of the week. If the strike runs past Friday and our client misses their delivery window, we’re looking at a breach claim.”I nodded once. “And rerouting cost?”“Thirty percent above the original quote

Tristan’s POV“Don’t go there, Tristan.” Daniel had been trying to talk me out of it for the umpteenth time. I wasn’t listening. “What the fuck do you want me to do, Daniel?!” I snapped. “We’ve checked every fucking place we could think of! Every time we trace his phone, he’s already gone!”“We can keep looking, Tristan,” Daniel said. “The police—”“Man, fuck the police!” I cut him off. “My wife has gone missing for almost forty-eight hours, and they still haven’t found her. You want me to sit around and wait for them?” Daniel scratched his chin. “I get it, Tristan. I do. But think about this… if you go to Gonzalo, that man is going to have something to hold against you.”“Do I look like I give a fuck?!” I barked. “The only link Carlos had was with Gonzalo. The last time, he tried to take Patricia. What’s to say he hadn’t taken Natasha to him?”Daniel exhaled, but I wasn’t done. “Can’t he just accept that I left? That I don’t want anything to do with him anymore? Why drag my family

Natasha’s POV Tristan was deeply asleep beside me. Normally, he’d have been up by now, getting ready for work. I shifted on my side, staring at him. The exhaustion on his face was impossible to miss. He looked like he needed extra time in bed. It had been exactly ten days since Lucas dropped the bombshell about Tristan. Everything made me think. Apparently, I hadn’t known Lucas as well as I thought I did, and it was scary. And now Tristan— His eyes opened slowly as they landed on me. Neither of us moved. “Good morning, Mrs Castillo,” he greeted with a smile. I sat up. “We need to talk, Tristan.” He straightened. “What about?” The silence stretched out before I finally spoke, keeping my voice calm. “I’ve heard the truth from Lucas. I saw his desperation and who he truly was.” My gaze held his. “It scared me because I loved a different version of him.” Tristan crossed his arms. “And I did a lot of thinking,” I continued. “I don’t know you, Tristan. One

Natasha’s POVI’d been rubbing on Tristan since I woke up. Apparently, surviving a kidnapping and finding out I was pregnant wasn’t enough for the universe. Now, I had to survive four weeks without my husband. And the worst part? He seemed to be enjoying every bit of my frustration. “You know,” Tristan murmured, “for someone who’s supposed to be resting, you’ve been doing a lot of moving.”“I’m resting.”“Sure, you are,” he replied. “But you do realize rubbing against me won’t change the doctor’s mind, right?”I pushed away from him and swung my feet off the bed. “Whatever.”His brows knitted together. “What are you doing?”“Getting ready to go out.”“Where are you going?”“Taking you to my studio?”“Why?”“What do you mean, ‘why’?” I frowned. “The doctor said—”“Yeah, the doctor said many things, but not ‘don’t go out,’” I cut in. “She said bed rest.” “But I do remember her saying ‘modified.’” He scoffed. “And I’m the impossible one?” I shrugged. “Learned from the best.”He s

Natasha’s POV Today, the dining room was unusually full. Richard and my mom had brought wine—a lot of it from Santa Barbara. Apparently, Richard owns a small wine company. Tristan suggested that Richard consider marketing the wine in Miami. “There’s a growing market here for smaller, quality brands,” Tristan said, swirling the glass carefully. “If you’re open to it, I can introduce you to a few distributors. Or we could look at a limited investment to help with the expansion.”Richard raised a brow. “Really?”Tristan took another sip and nodded once. “It’s good. Clean. No alcohol, but it’ll still work.” Richard set his cutlery down and glanced at my mom. “Mariana?”My mom lifted her head. “What’ve I got to do with it?”“You’re my wife, Mariana,” Richard said. “We somehow started this business together, and I’d love to hear what you have to say.”My mom set her fork down and sighed. “I mean… it sounds good. It’s non-alcoholic, but it could still appeal to women who go on brunch dat