Chapter 2 - My Husband Knew Too Much About the Man I Was Supposed to MarryGabrielle spent the next twenty minutes demanding answers.
Ethan gave her almost none.
He drove her to a different apartment.
Not the Tribeca loft.
This one was hidden behind an unmarked entrance in a building overlooking Central Park.
Gabrielle stood in the living room with her arms crossed.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn't.”
“You told me you were an ordinary man.”
“I never said that.”
“You let me believe you were.”
“That was your assumption.”
She stared at him.
“You fight like a professional.”
“Yes.”
“You knew those men.”
“Yes.”
“You knew they were coming.”
“Yes.”
“And you're telling me none of this concerns my father?”
Ethan looked out the window.
“It concerns your family.”
Gabrielle's heart sank.
“What does that mean?”
He turned.
“Your father isn't arranging your marriage because he wants to protect you.”
“Then why?”
“Because he wants access to something.”
“What?”
Ethan didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward a desk.
He opened a drawer.
Inside were photographs.
Gabrielle's father.
Her father's business partners.
Ethan Caldwell.
Gabrielle froze.
She picked up one photograph.
It showed a younger version of the man she was supposed to marry.
Ethan Caldwell.
Standing beside Gabrielle's father.
Her hands trembled.
“Where did you get this?”
Ethan said nothing.
She looked at him.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Ethan Carter.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It is the truth.”
“Then why do you have photographs of Ethan Caldwell?”
He stared at her.
“Because I know him.”
“From where?”
“London.”
She stepped closer.
“Are you working for him?”
“No.”
“Against him?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Ethan's expression hardened.
“I am him.”
The room went silent.
Gabrielle stared at him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
She backed away.
“You're Ethan Caldwell?”
“Yes.”
“The man my father wants me to marry?”
“Yes.”
“The billionaire?”
“Yes.”
“The man I've spent six months trying to avoid?”
“Yes.”
Gabrielle laughed.
It was a strange, broken sound.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I were.”
She threw the photograph onto the desk.
“You knew.”
“I recognized your name the moment you said it.”
“And you still agreed to marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes met hers.
“Because I was running from the same marriage.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“My father made the same arrangement with yours.”
Gabrielle stared.
“You didn't want to marry me?”
“I didn't want to marry anyone.”
“Then why did you let me pay you three million dollars?”
“I didn't take the money.”
“What?”
“The account you transferred it to belongs to a foundation.”
She stared.
“You're giving the money away?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't need three million dollars.”
That sentence alone told Gabrielle more about him than anything else.
The man she had believed she was escaping was wealthier than she had imagined.
But money wasn't what frightened her.
It was his knowledge.
He knew her.
He had been watching her.
And yet he had allowed her to walk straight into his life.
“You planned this.”
“No.”
“You followed me.”
“No.”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was trying to escape you.”
“Yes.”
“And you still let me marry you.”
“Yes.”
Gabrielle's voice cracked.
“Why?”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Because someone is trying to kill you.”
Her anger vanished.
“What?”
“Your father knows.”
She stared.
“My father?”
“Not everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“He knows someone wants you dead.”
“Who?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Your uncle.”
Gabrielle went pale.
Her father's younger brother, Victor Hayes, had died three years earlier.
At least, that was what everyone had told her.
“What are you talking about?”
“He isn't dead.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Gabrielle gripped the desk.
“That's impossible.”
“I saw him six months ago.”
“Where?”
“London.”
She shook her head.
“My father buried him.”
“No.”
“My mother attended the funeral.”
“It wasn't Victor.”
Gabrielle stared at him.
Ethan continued.
“Your father has been hiding the truth from you.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor has been trying to take control of the Hayes family empire.”
“And my marriage?”
“Part of the plan.”
Gabrielle suddenly understood why Ethan had been so calm.
He hadn't been surprised by her proposal.
He had been waiting.
Waiting for her to come to him.
Her phone rang.
Her father's name appeared.
Gabrielle answered.
“Dad?”
His voice was tense.
“Where are you?”
“With my husband.”
Silence.
Then:
“What husband?”
Gabrielle looked at Ethan.
“My husband.”
Her father breathed slowly.
“Gabrielle, listen carefully.”
“What?”
“Do not trust him.”
She looked at Ethan.
His expression remained unreadable.
“Why?”
“Because the man you're with is not who he says he is.”
Gabrielle laughed bitterly.
“That's funny.”
“What?”
“I know exactly who he is.”
Her father went silent.
Then he whispered:
“Then you know he killed his father.”
The call ended.
Gabrielle slowly lowered the phone.
Ethan looked at her.
“What did he say?”
She whispered:
“He says you killed your father.”
For the first time, Ethan's face cracked.
Pain appeared.
Not anger.
May you like
Pain.
“That,” he said quietly, “is a lie.”
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