Chapter 2 - The Husband Who Was Supposed to Hate Me
I barely slept.
Every sound in the enormous estate made me sit upright.
The wind against the windows.
Footsteps in the hall.
The distant hum of security radios.
The house was too quiet for a place occupied by dozens of armed men.
At six in the morning, someone knocked.
I sat up.
“Who is it?”
“Roman.”
My pulse jumped.
He entered carrying a tray of coffee and breakfast.
I stared at him.
“You brought me breakfast?”
“You've been awake all night.”
“How do you know?”
“I have cameras.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course you do.”
He set the tray down.
Then he noticed the way I held my shoulders.
“You're in pain.”
“I'll survive.”
“That wasn't an answer.”
“It usually is.”
He looked almost amused.
“Eat.”
I picked up a piece of toast.
Roman sat across from me.
“I want to ask you something.”
“About my family?”
“About you.”
That surprised me.
“I've watched you for months,” he said.
I nearly dropped the toast.
He added, “For security.”
“That doesn't make it less disturbing.”
“I know.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because I'm done pretending this marriage is what everyone thinks it is.”
He placed a file on the bed.
My name was written across the front.
EVELYN MERCER.
I stared at it.
“What's that?”
“Your medical records.”
My heart began racing.
“How did you get those?”
“You were treated twice at a private clinic under a false name.”
My fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Who gave you access?”
“No one had to.”
I looked at him.
“Roman.”
He leaned forward.
“I didn't marry you because I wanted revenge against Arthur Mercer.”
I remembered his expression during the ceremony.
“You asked for me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if you remained inside your brother's control, you were going to die.”
My breath caught.
“Why?”
“Because Victor Hale believes you know something.”
“I don't know anything.”
Roman nodded.
“That is what I believed too.”
He opened the file.
There was a photograph.
Me.
Eight years earlier.
Standing outside a warehouse.
I remembered that day.
It had been raining.
I had been eighteen.
My father had told me to wait in the car.
I had secretly followed him inside.
That was the first time I saw Victor Hale beat a man.
I had never told anyone.
Roman watched my face.
“You remember.”
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
I looked away.
A memory rose through me.
My father and Victor arguing.
A ledger on a table.
A man crying.
And one sentence.
“Move the books before Luca Caruso finds them.”
Luca.
Roman's brother.
I whispered, “I heard my father say your brother's name.”
Roman's eyes hardened.
“What else?”
“Victor said Luca was asking questions.”
Roman stood.
“That's enough for today.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“I need to know.”
“Know what?”
“Why my father ordered the ambush.”
Roman slowly turned.
“You saw evidence that he was planning something?”
“I saw Victor talking to him.”
“That doesn't mean your father planned Luca's death.”
“He did.”
Roman's voice was calm.
“Did you see the order?”
I hesitated.
“No.”
“Then don't carry guilt for something you didn't do.”
I looked at him.
“You hate my family.”
“I hate what they did.”
“You should hate me too.”
“I won't.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren't there.”
His answer hit harder than anger.
Later that morning, Roman took me downstairs.
The estate had a secure operations room hidden behind a wine cellar.
Walls of monitors displayed ports, warehouses, highways, and ships.
One screen showed Grant's mansion.
I stared.
“My brother.”
Roman nodded.
“He hasn't left the property.”
“Why?”
“He's waiting to see whether I hurt you.”
“Will you?”
Roman looked at me.
“No.”
A security officer entered.
“Boss, we intercepted a call.”
Roman nodded.
The officer played the recording.
Grant's voice filled the room.
“Victor, she knows.”
A second man's voice answered.
“Then we move tonight.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who is that?”
Roman's expression turned lethal.
“Victor Hale.”
Grant continued.
“I don't care what you have to do. Get the ledger.”
Roman stopped the recording.
I stared.
“Ledger?”
He nodded.
“Your father kept financial records that could destroy half the people in this city.”
“Then why does Victor want them?”
“Because they're proof that the war over the harbor was manufactured.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What?”
Roman looked at me.
“My brother was killed because someone wanted him dead.”
“Who?”
“We're still finding out.”
“But you said my father ordered it.”
“He believed that.”
“And now?”
Roman's eyes stayed on mine.
“Now I think your father may have been framed.”
Everything I had believed began collapsing.
My father.
My brother.
Victor.
Grant.
The war.
The marriage.
None of it was as simple as it looked.
Then the security officer rushed back in.
“Boss.”
Roman turned.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
The officer swallowed.
“Your wife disappeared from the camera feed.”
Roman looked at me.
I hadn't moved.
Then he looked at the monitors.
The camera pointed toward the room was still functioning.
But another feed showed my old family mansion.
On the screen, Grant was walking into the cellar.
Victor Hale was waiting for him.
And between them sat an open metal box.
Inside was a black ledger.
May you like
Roman whispered,
“That shouldn't exist.”
