ROSA
The wedding invitations lay scattered across my desk, their gold lettering mocking me. Two weeks. That's all the time I had left to figure out what was really going on in my family's business—and with Marco.
I'd been going through dad's old financial records, trying to make sense of the shipping routes Marco had been so interested in. At first glance, everything seemed normal, but there was something off about the numbers. The manifests showed regular shipments to Colombia, but the profit margins were impossibly high for what was supposed to be simple import/export business.
A knock on my door made me quickly hide the papers.
"Come in!"
Daniel strode in, already talking about wedding details. "Baby, I've been thinking. We should move the ceremony up a week. My father insists—"
"What? No! There's already so much to do and—"
"It wasn't a question," his voice turned hard, nothing like his usual cheerful tone. His eyes, usually warm brown, had turned cold. "My father want
