I Faked My Death—Then Came Back with His Twins

“That’s not pocket change. How do I know your check won’t bounce?” Braxton Thompson asked, his tone leaving no room for argument. The car Maggie was driving—an understated Mercedes borrowed from Madeline Johnston—didn’t exactly scream someone who could casually throw around millions. His suspicion wasn’t unwarranted.

Maggie sighed. “I really need to get to the Vienna Hotel. If you’re that worried, why not just call the cops? File a report and stop worrying about me vanishing.”

As luck would have it, Braxton was headed to the Vienna Hotel, too. “My car’s down for the count. We’ll go together. Though your driving could use some work...” He glanced at Gustavo Cruz. “You drive.”

Frustration washed over Maggie. She’d completely forgotten Braxton was going there for Aubree Foster’s birthday party. Eager to shake off the encounter, she’d blocked out the details.

Fine. It was just a ride. Still, the jab at her driving was uncalled for.

Resigned, Maggie moved to sit in the front passenger seat—only to find Gustavo had already planted a spiced honey cake there. With no other choice, she reluctantly climbed into the back.

Gustavo couldn’t wrap his head around the president’s logic. The damage to their car was minor—nowhere near bad enough to keep them from driving. Why squeeze into this cramped little ride? But questioning orders wasn’t his style. So he arranged a tow and grudgingly accepted his new role as chauffeur.

Braxton stayed quiet during the ride, subtly studying Maggie. The familiarity was almost unnerving.

Maggie kept her thoughts locked down and tried to make herself as invisible as possible.

As they neared the hotel, Madeline called. “When are you getting here? The kids are getting hungry.”

“Don’t wait for me—go ahead and eat. Leave when you’re done,” Maggie said quickly, worried about running into Braxton. That would only feed his suspicions.

She hung up and caught Braxton’s gaze lingering on her phone screen, where Madeline’s name was still displayed.

She looked away fast. She always avoided direct eye contact with him—those piercing eyes seemed to strip secrets bare. And yet, no one could ever tell what lay beneath them.

Nervous, Maggie started picking at her nails, an unconscious habit that kicked in whenever anxiety crept up.

“Do you know Madeline Johnston?” Braxton finally broke the silence, his gaze sharp and assessing.

“We met through an international buyers’ group. Why—do you know her?” Maggie feigned surprise, then added, “Your social circles must be pretty tight-knit.”

Stay calm. Don’t let him intimidate you. He doesn’t recognize this face now.

Bracing herself mentally, Maggie kept her expression calm as she met Braxton’s eyes.

“I was headed to the Vienna Hotel today. We just happened to meet at the children’s home, and then we cross paths again?” Braxton smirked, though the curve of his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. Braxton had this unsettling habit of smiling when he was masking anger. That smile confirmed he hadn’t recognized her.

She thought about insisting it was just a coincidence, but she didn’t have the nerve. Who would buy that?

“What do you think it is, if not a coincidence? You think I’m deliberately trying to get close to you? Honestly, sir, you’re a little full of yourself. Might I remind you—you approached me first?”

Gustavo’s eyes went wide with alarm—especially at her bold crack about Braxton’s ego. He hit the brakes so suddenly that Maggie tumbled into Braxton.

The man chuckled, looking more amused than offended. “And who’s throwing herself into whose arms now?”

Maggie’s irritation spiked.

A hint of a smirk crossed Braxton’s face. The foul mood he’d been in seemed to lift, as if Maggie’s annoyance amused him.

“You call this driver of yours skilled? Slamming on the brakes on a perfectly smooth city road!” Maggie’s anger now had a target: Gustavo, her only available outlet.

Gustavo felt the sting of unfairness. If this woman had the nerve to talk back to Braxton, how could he not be nervous?

“Forget it. I’ve had enough!” Maggie snapped as they pulled up to the Vienna Hotel. She opened the car door, ready to make her escape, when Braxton caught her wrist.

“Trying to swap the damage for the money owed? Pretty crafty.”

Maggie fumed and yanked the keys from the ignition. “My check is solid. Believe it or not—call the cops if you don’t.” She snapped the words out and stormed off, afraid she’d say something she’d regret if she stayed a second longer.

As she walked away, Braxton found himself unexpectedly amused by her anger.

Gustavo stared at Braxton in disbelief. Was that an actual smile? Since his wife’s disappearance, Braxton hadn’t shown a hint of real emotion.

“Mr. Thompson, that woman can’t be Maggie. Her reactions seemed too genuine, like our run-ins really were just coincidences. I mean...”

Braxton cut him off coldly. “What makes you so sure?”

Startled, Gustavo stammered, “Because she didn’t try to get your contact information. That check looked like a genuine attempt to compensate you. If she were trying to pursue you, wouldn’t she have taken the chance to linger?”

Seeing Braxton’s expression darken, Gustavo stopped talking.

“Quite an analysis,” Braxton said with a sarcastic smile. Just as Gustavo let out a breath of relief, Braxton added, “Your bonus is safe, but don’t expect a raise.”

Gustavo, who had just submitted a request for a raise, felt like drowning in regret.

Still sulking, Gustavo grabbed the spiced honey cake and followed Braxton into the elevator.

Aubree’s birthday party was being held on the top floor—a privilege the Vienna Hotel had granted to no one else. It was Braxton’s way of giving her public recognition. Naturally, the place was buzzing with excitement. Except for the family hostile to Braxton, everyone else had sent a representative.

The guests were eager to see if Braxton would finally make his relationship with Aubree official. The rumors about them had been swirling for ages, but nothing had been publicly confirmed. Despite the lively party, Braxton’s conspicuous absence stirred gossip among those hungry for drama.

Aubree’s eyes kept darting to the entrance. Braxton had promised to come. His word was usually as good as gold, but his delay was starting to unsettle her.

“Sis, it’s such a big day. As your boyfriend, Braxton should be here, right? I heard the media’s ready to see him officially introduce you as his girlfriend. It’d be pretty awkward if he didn’t show.” Her envious acquaintance teased, clearly enjoying Aubree’s discomfort.

Forcing a smile, Aubree replied, “Of course he’ll be here. His gift arrived earlier, and he just got back from overseas. It’s understandable that he’s running late.”