Bound By Distance, Torn By Blood

"The night Williams Sanchez learned that the woman he loved might be his sister was the night his name, his legacy, began to rot from the inside out"

But the story didn't begin there. It began with silence.

With years of being overlooked, brushed aside, treated like the shadow of his younger brother. Vengeance built in Bernado's heart. It began the first time Alex Sanchez, the father of Williams and Bernado took Williams on a trip to Paris, leaving Bernado behind with nothing but excuses and empty promises, ignoring the fact that he was the first son, or the fact that he, Bernado even existed.

Williams was the golden boy, the perfect son. The one with the polished charm and calm smile. The one who made their father proud. And Bernado? Bernado was the mistake Alex never stopped trying to fix.

The Sanchez name was powerful in Beverly Hills, etched in marble walls and gold-plated deals. But behind their luxury gates, jealousy was growing like rot beneath a beautiful floor.

It all came crashing down one cold Friday evening. Alex had called a meeting with the board. Bernado wasn't invited, but he showed up anyway, storming into the room with fire in his chest.

The boardroom fell silent.

Alex barely looked at him. "You shouldn't be here."

"I built campaigns, I led expansion projects, I stayed up nights for this company," Bernado said. "And you give it all to Williams?"

Williams sat across the table, his face unreadable.

"It's not personal," Alex said, voice sharp and cold. "It's business."

Bernado's laugh was bitter. "You made it personal the day you raised one son and raised a wall around the other."

That night, everything was signed. Williams Sanchez was announced as the Vice Chairman of Sanchez Global Holdings. The news lit up Beverly Hills like fireworks. Business partners sent champagne. Celebrities reposted congratulatory messages. But the headlines didn't tell the whole story.

What no one knew was that Bernado had already planned his next move.

He left the mansion that same night without another word. His destination: Barcelona, Spain.

From a sleek apartment overlooking the city, he began digging into Sanchez Global's operations. With the help of a bitter former employee, he leaked insider information to the press - details about a private deal that had been weeks away from sealing.

The fallout was immediate.

A major investor pulled out. Shares took a hit. The Sanchez name was dragged through headlines. Talk shows questioned the company's future. Whispers circled: Was Williams ready? Was he just a pretty face in a suit?

Williams tried to hold it together. He gave interviews, made calls, reassured the board.

But the weight was crushing.

He'd never felt pressure like this. Every move he made was followed, dissected, questioned. For the first time in his life, Williams felt like the golden crown was made of glass.

And so he left.

Without press or planning, Williams boarded a private jet and flew to Savannah, Georgia, a quiet town far from the flashing cameras and expectations. He told no one except his father. He needed space. He needed time. And maybe, he needed to remember who he was without all the noise.

He rented a small townhouse near the historic district. Walked the old streets. Watched the Spanish moss sway from the trees. There were no interviews, no boardroom meetings. Just air.

It was on his third day in Savannah that he walked into a bookstore near Forsyth Park.

The bell above the door jingled softly. It smelled like cinnamon and paper. The place was warm, quiet, safe.

And there she was.

Kate Smith.

She was sorting books on a ladder, humming to herself. Her hair was pinned loosely, strands falling across her cheek. She looked up, caught him staring, and didn't smile.

Williams blinked. "Sorry. I just - wasn't expecting anyone else here."

"This is a bookstore," she said flatly. "People come in."

He chuckled, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "Right. Of course."

But her voice... it held something else. Not just disinterest.

Distrust.

And then he saw it, the way her gaze flicked to his face, then to his wallet on the counter.

His black card.

His last name.

"Sanchez?" she asked, her tone turning sharp.

He nodded slowly. "Yes. Williams Sanchez."

The name dropped like ice in a warm room.

She didn't say another word. Just stepped down from the ladder and walked away, disappearing between shelves.

Williams stood frozen.

He had no idea what just happened.

But Kate did.

Because that name - Sanchez - was the same name that ruined her father.

Years ago, Gabriel Smith had been a rising name in business. Until Alex Sanchez crushed his company in a takeover that left nothing but dust. Her family went from penthouse to paycheck. From wealth to surviving.

She'd heard the name Sanchez whispered in her home like a curse. And now, one of them stood in front of her. Smiling. Unaware.

Back in Barcelona, Bernado watched the footage of Williams in Savannah. His tech team had installed surveillance on Williams' devices. He saw everything.

And when he saw the way Williams looked at Kate Smith, a slow smile spread across his face.

He leaned back in his chair.

"Let's see what love does to a golden boy when it's the wrong girl."

He picked up his phone.

It was time to dig into Kate's past.

And start building the lie that would shatter them both.