Chapter 2 - The Contract I Never Agreed To
My mother woke the next morning with an IV in her arm and a private cardiologist standing beside her bed.
The first thing she asked was whether I had married Cassian Vale.
I laughed so suddenly that the nurse turned around.
“No.”
Mother stared at me.
“Then why are there two enormous men outside the room?”
“I’m guessing because your new doctor is apparently part of a very strange family.”
My mother frowned.
“Lydia.”
I took her hand.
“Tell me the truth. Did the Aldridges ever threaten you?”
She hesitated.
That hesitation hurt more than the answer would have.
“Sometimes.”
“How long?”
“Since you were eighteen.”
My breath caught.
“Why?”
“Because your father left debts.”
I sat down.
“My father died when I was ten.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because I wanted you to have a normal life.”
I stared at her.
It had always been the two of us.
My father had died in a warehouse accident when I was a child, and after his death, my mother had worked every job she could find until arthritis stole the strength from her hands.
The Aldridges had offered her a cottage and a housekeeping position.
It had seemed like mercy.
Now I wondered whether it had been a leash.
The door opened.
Cassian stepped inside.
He looked different in daylight.
Still intimidating.
Still impossible to ignore.
But there was exhaustion beneath his eyes.
My mother tried to sit up.
“Mr. Vale.”
“Cassian is fine.”
She stared at him.
“I know who you are.”
“I assumed you did.”
He pulled a chair closer.
“You should rest.”
My mother glanced at me.
“Does he always talk like that?”
Cassian actually smiled.
“Only when I’m trying to avoid saying too much.”
She liked him.
I could see it immediately.
That irritated me.
Because I wasn’t ready to trust him.
He placed a folder on the table.
“I’ve arranged permanent medical coverage for your mother.”
I frowned.
“Permanent?”
“Until she no longer needs it.”
“I can’t pay you back.”
“This isn’t a loan.”
“Then what is it?”
“A correction.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
“For allowing people under my name to believe they could control yours.”
My mother’s eyes widened.
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
Cassian answered for me.
“Your daughter was forced to stand in for another woman at my wedding.”
Mother went pale.
“They did what?”
I squeezed her hand.
“It’s over.”
“No,” Cassian said.
I looked at him.
“It isn’t.”
He opened the folder.
Inside were photographs of Evelyn.
Bank records.
Hotel receipts.
A list of names.
And six old wedding photographs.
The women from the rumors.
Cassian’s previous wives.
I looked at each face.
“They all disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Did you hurt them?”
His gaze met mine.
“No.”
I believed him.
I didn’t know why.
But I did.
Then he pointed to one of the photographs.
“Look closely.”
I leaned forward.
Every bride wore something different.
Different hair.
Different jewelry.
Different years.
But each photograph had one strange detail.
A silver pendant.
Small.
Almost invisible.
“Those are identical.”
Cassian nodded.
“Every one.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re telling me you don’t know?”
“No.”
That honesty startled me.
He flipped the pages.
“Three days ago, one of my accountants found a hidden payment trail connected to the Aldridge shipping company.”
My stomach tightened.
“My family?”
“Not officially. But money moved through shell companies connected to people I’ve been investigating for years.”
“Who?”
“Elias Voss.”
The name meant nothing to me.
It meant everything to Cassian.
“He runs a network that steals cargo, launders money and purchases officials.”
“And you’re at war with him?”
“We’re at war because he wants control of my ports.”
He paused.
“Someone inside my organization has been helping him.”
My eyes moved back to the photographs.
“Your wives.”
“Not exactly.”
He leaned forward.
“Someone used each marriage to gain access to my private records.”
I understood.
“They were spies.”
“Some were.”
“Some?”
He nodded.
“One wasn’t.”
“What happened to her?”
Cassian’s expression darkened.
“She discovered the truth too late.”
“Which was?”
“That someone in my own family was feeding information to Voss.”
His silence told me this was not a small betrayal.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Then he looked at me.
“But I think Evelyn does.”
The door opened again.
Thomas entered.
“Sir, we found her.”
Cassian stood.
“Where?”
“Montreal.”
My pulse jumped.
“Is she safe?”
Thomas shook his head.
“She left the hotel twenty minutes ago.”
Cassian cursed under his breath.
My mother looked between us.
“What does this have to do with Lydia?”
Thomas hesitated.
Cassian answered.
“Everything.”
He picked up one of the photographs.
“Evelyn didn’t run because she was afraid of marrying me.”
He looked at me.
“She ran because she found something.”
“Something connected to me?”
“Yes.”
I stared.
“What?”
“We don’t know yet.”
He paused.
“That’s the problem.”
I folded my arms.
“Then why am I here?”
Cassian took out a contract.
“Because the people who forced you into the wedding still believe you’re Evelyn.”
“I thought you were protecting me.”
“I am.”
“Then why do you need me to stay around you?”
“Because right now, it’s the safest place you can be.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Inside the house where six women supposedly ran for their lives?”
His expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound safe.”
“It is safer than the cottage.”
My mother squeezed my hand.
“Lydia.”
I looked down.
Cassian spoke quietly.
“You have three choices.”
I waited.
“You can go back to your cottage and hope the people watching it decide you aren’t useful anymore.”
He placed the second option on the table.
“You can enter witness protection under another name.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“It comes with leaving your mother behind while we relocate you.”
My stomach dropped.
“And the third?”
He slid the contract toward me.
“Stay at my estate for thirty days.”
I stared at him.
“As what?”
“Under a protection agreement.”
“Not a wife?”
“No.”
“Not Evelyn?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Lydia.”
His answer was so simple that I had no response.
He pushed a pen toward me.
“You live as yourself. You work if you want to. You leave if you want to. You owe me nothing.”
I looked at the contract.
“What’s the catch?”
“I’m asking you not to trust me.”
I frowned.
“That’s your catch?”
“I’m asking you to watch me.”
He stood.
“Watch everyone around me.”
Then his voice dropped.
“Especially the person who wants you dead.”
My hand froze.
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
The word sat between us.
Cassian’s phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
Thomas stepped forward.
“We found something at the cottage.”
He handed Cassian an evidence bag.
Inside was a photograph of me.
Taken outside the hospital two weeks earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
SHE IS NOT THE BRIDE. SHE IS THE KEY.
I stared at the photograph.
“How long?”
Thomas answered.
“Someone has been following her for months.”
My mother gasped.
Cassian closed his fist around the bag.
Then he looked at me.
“I know you don’t trust me.”
“No.”
“I know you don’t understand why you were chosen.”
“No.”
“And I know the last thing you want is to move into my house.”
“No.”
A strange smile touched his mouth.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“It means you still have sense.”
He turned toward the door.
“I’ll give you an hour to decide.”
I thought he was leaving.
Then he stopped.
Without looking back, he said, “For what it’s worth, Lydia, I’ve never forced a woman to marry me.”
“Six women would disagree.”
He turned.
“The world believes stories that protect it from the truth.”
His eyes held mine.
“Ask them yourselves.”
And then he walked out.
An hour later, I signed.
Not because I wanted Cassian.
Not because I believed the rumors.
Not because I trusted him.
I signed because someone had already taken a photograph of me through my hospital window.
And because, whether I liked it or not, the safest place for my mother and me was now inside the home of the most feared man in New York.
That evening, when we arrived at the Vale estate, Cassian gave me the master bedroom.
I refused it.
He gave me the guest room.
I accepted.
Before leaving, he said one thing.
“Lock your door.”
I stared at him.
“From whom?”
May you like
He looked down the hallway.
“Everyone.”
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