TRAPPED BETWEEN VOWS

CHAPTER FIVE

Shantel’s POV

The moment I walked out of Bryan’s office, a wave of emotions hit me like a storm. Anger, exhaustion, and a twisted sense of satisfaction. I had seen the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched at my words.

He didn’t expect me to fight back.

But this was just the beginning.

As I stepped into the elevator, I pulled out my phone and dialed my father’s number. He picked up after the first ring.

“Shantel?” His voice was calm, but I could hear the tension beneath it.

“Dad, we need to talk. It’s about Bryan. He’s trying to take my shares by force.”

There was a long pause before he sighed heavily. “I feared this would happen. Come to the estate. We need to prepare.”

Prepare?

The way he said it sent a chill down my spine.

Something about his tone made me realize—my father knew more than he was letting on.

⸻

I arrived at the Suarez estate an hour later. The grand mansion, nestled in the heart of the city, had always felt like home. But today, it felt different.

My father was waiting in his study, a glass of wine in his hand. He gestured for me to sit.

“Tell me everything,” he said, his voice firm.

I recounted everything—Bryan’s threats, the frozen accounts, the fabricated scandal, even the CPS warning. With each word, my father’s expression was nothing but sheer surprise of how his late friend son would do this his own daughter who he gave out to him in marriage

My father remained silent for a long moment after I finished speaking, his fingers tightening around the stem of his wine glass. His usually sharp eyes darkened with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

Anger? Disappointment?

Or something far worse?

“Dad?” I leaned forward, trying to read his expression. “Say something.”

He let out a deep breath and placed his glass on the mahogany desk before rubbing his temples. “I never thought Bryan would go this far.” His voice was eerily calm, but the tension in his posture was undeniable. “I made a mistake trusting him.”

I scoffed. “You think?”

My father shot me a look, but I wasn’t going to back down. Not now. Not when my entire life was crumbling around me because of Bryan’s greed.

“I should’ve protected you better,” he admitted, almost to himself. “But I didn’t think he’d turn against you like this. Not after everything…”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated. “Bryan—he wasn’t always this ruthless. I saw potential in him, ambition. I thought if I merged our families, it would solidify your future.” He sighed. “But I was wrong. He’s not the man I thought he was.”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “That’s why I have to stop him.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“I’m not just going to sit back and let him destroy me,” I said, my voice firm. “He thinks he can freeze my accounts, threaten my reputation, use CPS to come after me?” I shook my head. “No. I’m going to fight him. I’ll take back what’s mine.”

My father’s face paled. He stared at me as if I had just said something utterly incomprehensible. “Shantel… you don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He pushed back from his desk, his breathing suddenly uneven. “Bryan isn’t just playing a power game. If you go against him, he won’t hold back.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then tell me. What aren’t you saying?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. A shadow passed over his face, and suddenly, he reached for his chest. His fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, his breath coming in short gasps.

My stomach lurched.

“Dad?” I stood abruptly, rushing to his side. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

His grip on his chest tightened, and a pained expression twisted his features. The color drained from his face.

“Call… call…” His voice broke off into a strangled gasp.

Panic surged through me.

“Oh my God. Dad—just hold on.” I fumbled for my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed emergency services. “Come on, come on…”

The operator’s voice came through, calm and detached. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“My father—he’s having a heart attack!” I practically screamed into the phone.

“Stay calm, ma’am. Is he conscious?”

I turned back to him. His eyes were fluttering shut, his breaths shallow. “Barely! Please, send help!”

“We’re dispatching an ambulance to your location. Keep him comfortable and try to keep him awake.”

I dropped to my knees beside him, grabbing his hand. “Dad, stay with me. Help is on the way.”

His lips parted slightly. “Shantel…”

I could barely hear him.

Tears burned my eyes. “Don’t you dare leave me. Please.”

His fingers twitched against mine, his face contorted in pain. Then, just as the distant sound of sirens filled the air, his grip went slack.

A choked sob escaped my lips.

No. No. No.

The door burst open, and two paramedics rushed in, pushing me aside as they got to work. I stood frozen, watching as they performed CPR, shouting medical terms I barely understood.

One of them turned to me. “We’re taking him to the hospital. Are you coming?”

I could barely nod before I was ushered out with them, my legs moving on autopilot. The world felt like it was tilting, the air too thin.

Bryan did this.

The thought hit me like a lightning bolt.

I had gone to my father for help, and now he was fighting for his life.

Because of Bryan.

As I climbed into the ambulance, a new emotion surged through me, one that burned hotter than fear or sadness.

Rage.

I wasn’t just going to fight Bryan.……….I was going to destroy him.

As the ambulance sped away, sirens blaring, I felt my heart harden into a cold, unyielding stone. I was done playing games with Bryan. I was done being the victim. It was time to take back control, to fight back with every ounce of strength I had.

The hospital was a blur of sterile smells and antiseptic sounds, of worried faces and hushed conversations. I was a robot, going through the motions, as I waited for news about my father's condition.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor emerged, his face somber. "I'm afraid your father has suffered a severe heart attack," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "We're doing everything we can to stabilize him, but the next 24 hours will be critical."

I nodded, my mind racing with thoughts of Bryan, of revenge, of justice. I knew that I had to be strong, for my father, for Mel, for myself.

As I sat in the hospital room, holding my father's hand, I made a vow to myself. I would not rest until Bryan paid for what he had done. I would not rest until he was brought to his knees, until he knew the true meaning of pain and suffering.

The door to the hospital room opened, and a nurse walked in, a look of sympathy on her face. "Is there anything I can get for you, dear?" she asked.

I looked up at her, my eyes cold, hard. "Yes," I said, my voice low, deadly. "You can get me Bryan Bocares.”