RETURN OF THE FORGOTTEN BRIDE

ChapterTwenty

NATALIE’S POV

The sleek black car pulled up to the grand shopping district, its polished surface reflecting the warm sunlight of the Colombian afternoon. Domenico Lopez stepped out first, his brown tailored suit fitting him perfectly, exuding the kind of confidence only men like him seemed to possess. I followed reluctantly, clutching my handbag like a lifeline.

“This way,” he said, his voice smooth yet firm. His dark eyes flicked to me, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

I had been in Colombia for only a few weeks, but Domenico’s intensity had become impossible to ignore. He wasn’t just a man; he was a force—a hurricane sweeping into every corner of my life. Today, his storm had taken the form of a lavish shopping spree, an all-out effort to win me over.

“Why are we doing this?” I asked, falling into step beside him.

“Because you deserve the best mi amor,” he replied without hesitation.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I stopped myself. My every move was being watched. Everything he did served a purpose. This wasn’t about generosity. This was strategy in a game I had no say in.

The first boutique we entered was breathtaking—glass shelves lined with designer handbags, shoes that cost more than a month’s rent back home, and dresses that looked like they belonged on runways. Domenico gestured to the sales assistants, who immediately began pulling items they thought would suit me.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said as a sparkling gown was held up for my approval.

He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Is it so strange that I want to make you happy?”

I didn’t believe him for a second. I was kidnapped and bought. I expected none of this from this man

By the third boutique, I had pieced together the puzzle. Domenico wasn’t just a wealthy man indulging in extravagance. He was a man with an agenda.

I had overheard fragments of conversations, caught snippets of phone calls. The company his family owned, a lucrative multinational conglomerate, was hanging in the balance. Domenico needed control of it, but his brother contested his claim. And then there was me—Natalie, the supposed wildcard in this game of corporate chess.

Marriage to me would give him the leverage he needed.

“Try this one,” Domenico said, holding out a silk dress in a deep emerald green. “It will look stunning on you.”

I hesitated, then took the dress. There was no point arguing now. He wasn’t going to stop until I gave him what he wanted—or until I gave him a definitive no, which isn't an option if I wanted to keep my head.

The sales assistant led me to the fitting room, and as I slipped into the dress, I stared at my reflection. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, elegant and luxurious, but I felt like an imposter. This wasn’t my life. This wasn’t who I was supposed to be. I wanted to experience all this with Richard and not some random colombian.

When I stepped out, Domenico’s eyes lit up. “Que chevere!,” he said, his voice warm with approval.

I felt a strange mix of pride and discomfort. “Domenico,” I said softly, meeting his gaze, “you don’t need to do all of this.”

“There's no need to drape a prisoner in gold” my voice cold

“If you are to be my wife, you must look the part!” he snapped

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning.

As the day wore on, the weight of his intentions became impossible to ignore. Every smile, every compliment, every extravagant gift was a step closer to his ultimate goal: my hand in marriage.

At lunch, we sat on the terrace of an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters wore white gloves and the wine list was longer than the menu. Domenico watched me carefully as I picked at my food, his gaze unwavering.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally.

“I’m thinking,” I admitted.

“About what?”

“About why you need me,” I said, meeting his eyes.

Domenico didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed impressed by my directness. “You’re smart,” he said with a small nod. “I like that.”

I folded my arms, refusing to let him sidestep the question. “Answer me.” I had finally summoned up courage to talk to him like a human with rights rather than one who was bought.

He leaned back in his chair, placed the napkin on the table, studying me for a moment before speaking. “My brother, Mateo, has always been... difficult. He’s ambitious, ruthless, and willing to do whatever it takes to win. The company is in limbo because of him. Our father’s will left room for interpretation, and now everything is tied up in legal battles.”

“And where do I fit into this?” I pressed.

Domenico’s smile turned cold, calculating. “Marriage to you gives me an advantage. The board respects stability, unity. A wife, especially one as poised and intelligent as you, projects exactly that. Together, we could secure the future of the company.”

I stared at him, the pieces falling into place. He didn’t want me; he wanted what I represented.

The shopping spree continued, but my mind was elsewhere. Each boutique we visited felt like a battlefield, every purchase a weapon in Domenico’s arsenal.

But I wasn’t a pawn. Not in his game, not in anyone’s.

At the final stop, Domenico handed me a velvet box. Inside was a necklace, its diamonds sparkling like stars.

“This is too much,” I said, my voice tight.

“Nothing is too much for you,” he replied smoothly.

I snapped the box shut, meeting his gaze with a newfound resolve. “You can’t buy me twice, Domenico.”

His expression hardened, but he didn’t look away. “I’m not trying to buy you, Natalie. I’m showing you what life with me could be like. I’m giving you the opportunity to be part of something bigger than yourself.”

“And what about what I want?” I asked, my voice rising. “Have you ever thought about that?”

His jaw tightened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of vulnerability. “I need you, Natalie,” he said quietly.

He had finally spoken to me like a human and not as some object he had purchased off the roadside

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

That night, as I sat in the quiet of my room, I turned the velvet box over in my hands. The diamonds inside were beautiful, but they felt heavy, like chains.

Domenico was offering me a life of wealth and power, but it came at a price: my freedom, my autonomy. I would be a symbol, not a partner.

I set the box down and stared out the window at the city lights. The decision loomed over me, as vast and daunting as the world outside.

Domenico had given me a choice. My hand or my head.

AMAYA’S POV

The biting cold of the night stung my cheeks as I hurried down the dimly lit alley. My breath came out in short, panicked gasps, the sound mingling with the distant hum of the city. My heart pounded in my chest, louder than the clatter of my boots against the pavement. Every shadow seemed to shift, every sound felt like a threat.

I had been running for weeks, dodging the men who thought they could own me, control me. Every safehouse had been compromised, every supposed ally a potential danger. Now, I was left with one option—the last person I ever wanted to see again but the only one I could trust.

Thomas.

We hadn’t spoken in two years, not since I walked out on him, leaving behind a shattered relationship and a man who deserved better than the chaos I brought into his life. But he was also the one person who would never betray me, no matter what.

When I reached the door to his apartment, my hands were trembling. It wasn’t just the cold—it was fear, guilt, and desperation all wrapped into one. I hesitated for a moment, then knocked.

The sound echoed in the stillness, and I held my breath.

A shuffle of footsteps. The click of a lock. The door opened.

Thomas stood there, his brown hair disheveled, his eyes heavy with sleep. But the moment he saw me, his face shifted—shock, confusion, and something else I couldn’t name.

“Amaya?” His voice was low, disbelieving.

“Hi, Thomas,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need your help.”

He blinked, his eyes scanning my face, my clothes, the backpack slung over my shoulder. Then he stepped aside, holding the door open.

“Come in.”

Inside, the warmth of his apartment enveloped me, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of safety. Thomas stood a few steps away, his arms crossed, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

“What’s going on?” he asked finally.

I dropped my bag onto the floor, my hands still shaking. “It’s... a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” he said, his voice softening.

I sank onto the couch, my legs barely holding me up anymore. “I’m in trouble, Thomas. Serious trouble.”

“Are you hurt?” He moved closer, his protective instincts kicking in.

“No,” I said quickly. “Not physically. But the people I’m running from—they won’t stop until they find me.”

He frowned, his jaw tightening. “Who are they?”

I hesitated. How could I explain the nightmare I had escaped? The kidnapping, the weeks of captivity, the danger I had narrowly avoided? And Natalie...

“It’s complicated,” I said finally. “But I had nowhere else to go. I know I have no right to ask, but—”

“You don’t have to ask,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re staying here. No one’s going to hurt you, not while I’m around.”

Relief washed over me, but it was tinged with guilt. Thomas had always been like this—kind, loyal, and unwavering. It was part of what made me leave him. He deserves someone who didn’t come with baggage, someone who didn’t drag him into danger.

“Thank you,” I whispered, looking down at my hands.

He crouched in front of me, his eyes searching mine. “Amaya, whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again. But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning. The men chasing me wouldn’t stop. And now, Thomas was in their crosshairs too.