Mag-log inArielle had been staring at the wedding planner’s proposals for almost an hour, and she was beginning to suspect that planning a wedding was more exhausting than investigating a murder.She flipped through another page, frowned, and pushed the folder away.“What’s wrong with this one?” Lucien asked.She glanced at the photograph he was pointing at.“The flowers.”“What about them?”“They’re ugly.”Lucien examined the arrangement. It looked perfectly acceptable to him, but he had learned that offering an opinion on wedding decorations without understanding the consequences was dangerous.“They look like flowers to me.”Arielle slowly turned toward him.“Are you telling me you don’t see anything wrong with them?”“I’m telling you that I’m a man who knows when to stay out of trouble.”She burst into laughter.Lucien smiled, pleased with himself, before reaching for the folder.“How many more decisions do we have to make?”“Don’t ask me. We haven’t even settled on the wedding cake.”“Choc
Margaret Moreau arrived at the Moreau estate at ten the following morning, dressed in a cream suit and carrying a leather handbag.She looked nothing like a woman who had spent years hiding from a scandal. She walked into the sitting room with her chin raised, barely acknowledging Lucien before turning to Arielle.“So you’re Beaumont Laurent’s daughter.”Arielle held her gaze. “And you’re the woman who decided my father was a problem that needed to be handled.”Margaret’s lips tightened. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”“Then this should be an easy conversation.”Lucien gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Sit down, Aunt Margaret. The authorities have already received copies of Sentinel’s report. We want to hear your explanation before they question you formally.”For the first time, Margaret looked uncertain.“Henry told me you had the documents.”“Henry has finally decided to tell the truth,” Lucien replied. “You should try it.”Margaret sat.She initially claimed S
Arielle was halfway through getting dressed when Lucien knocked on her bedroom door.“I’m not ready!” she called.“I didn’t ask if you were ready.”“Then why are you disturbing me?”“Because you’ve been in there for forty minutes, and I need to know if I should cancel our reservation.”She opened the door, glaring at him. “You can cancel it and eat alone.”Lucien grinned. “There she is. The woman I’m marrying.”Her expression softened before she could stop it. “You’re really serious about getting married, aren’t you?”“Very.” He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”Arielle looked at him for a moment, then straightened his collar.“I haven’t. But I refuse to spend my marriage arguing with your mother, your uncle, or any other relative who thinks they own our lives.”“Then we’ll establish boundaries.”“And if they cross them?”“We’ll establish them again. More firmly.”She laughed. “You’re learning.”“I’m a very intelligent man.”“Don’t r
Lucien read his father’s letter a second time.Your mother knows why your father and I disagreed, and Henry has spent years making sure neither of you asks the right questions.He looked at Arielle. “I’m calling my mother.”“Lucien, it’s barely eight in the morning.”“Good. She’ll have no excuse to tell me she’s busy.”Mary arrived at the estate an hour later. One look at the letter in her son’s hand told her what the conversation would be about.“You’ve found Victor’s letter,” she said quietly.“You knew he left it?”“I knew he wanted to tell you something. I didn’t know he had written it down.”Lucien placed the letter on the table.“Then tell us what you know about Beaumont Laurent.”Mary sat down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.“Victor discovered that Margaret was using the family holding company to move money through accounts that weren’t supposed to exist. Beaumont had uncovered part of the same arrangement. He intended to expose it.”Arielle’s face tightened. “And Sentin
“Don’t tell me you’re about to spend another night chasing dead people and missing documents.”Arielle’s voice stopped Lucien halfway to the car.He turned. “Someone just threatened us.”“And we’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m tired, Lucien. Tired of Beaumont’s death, Sentinel, Margaret, and every new name that drags us into another investigation.” She swallowed, fighting the frustration rising in her chest. “I came into this relationship because I fell in love with you. Sometimes I wonder if you remember that we’re supposed to be building a life together.”Lucien stared at her.Then he put his keys back into his pocket.“You’re right.”She blinked. “That’s it?”“What else should I say? You’re asking me to be your man, not your investigator.” He stepped closer. “And I’ve been so busy trying to protect you that I’ve forgotten you might need something else from me.”Arielle looked away. “I need to feel like there’s still an us outside all this madness.”Lucien gently caught her hand. “The
“Margaret Moreau is dead?”Lucien repeated Bennett’s words, his grip tightening around the envelope.Bennett nodded. “That’s what the man told me. He said she died overseas several years ago. But I never saw an obituary or any official confirmation.”“Did you recognize the man?” Arielle asked.“No. He knew where I lived, where I’d worked, and that I’d kept copies of the Sentinel documents. That wasn’t a casual visit.”Lucien stood. “You should have told Martin this before we met.”“I wanted to know whether you were genuinely investigating or simply trying to protect your family.” Bennett looked directly at him. “Your father was a good man, Mr. Moreau. But good men can build companies that other people use for terrible things.”Lucien didn’t argue.He gave Bennett Martin’s number and asked him to report any further contact before leaving the café with Arielle.Inside the car, Arielle opened the envelope again.“The email proves Margaret commissioned the assignment, but we still don’t k
The words hung in the air between them.Because I’m still trying to understand why seeing you with someone else bothered me at all.Arielle felt her heartbeat stumble.She hadn’t expected honesty.Not from Lucien.Not like this.For a moment she didn’t know what to say.Lucien seemed to realize wha
She stood there. Watching him go. Her heart doing things it shouldn’t.The hallway felt colder after he disappeared around the corner.Arielle let herself into her room and closed the door softly behind her. The quiet pressed in immediately. Too loud. Too heavy.She leaned back against the door and
Chapter 4The briefcase smelled like old leather and dust.Arielle sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, the contents spread out around her like pieces of a puzzle she’d been trying to solve for ten years.Documents. Bank statements. Emails printed on paper that had yellowed with time. And a small
Chapter 3Arielle stared at her phone until the screen went dark.I know who you are.She hadn’t been Arielle Laurent when her father was alive. She’d been Arielle Beaumont. Her father’s daughter. The girl who’d lived in a house with a backyard and a tree swing and parents who smiled at each other







