CHAPTER 7: THE INVESTIGATION AND THE MOMENT

Sebastian's POV

"These are all the documents, sir," the private investigator said, placing the file on my table. I stared at it like something that would pounce on me if I stared at the devastating content inside it for too long.

I couldn't bring myself to open it. Not yet. Not when I knew what it contained. Not when I knew what it would mean.

"I had to carefully access the server," the investigator continued. "Unfortunately, it was so exposed I think the person had forgotten it needed more tight security."

"Or maybe they thought no one could think of that side," I completed, still not raising my head from the file.

"Yes, sir, that is true. The documents in the file are just receipts from Ashford Holdings. I was surprised it did not show who signed it off."

I looked up at him then. His expression was careful. Measured. Like he was trying to soften the blow of what he was about to tell me.

"What do you mean? You said my father authorized the payment," I said, my voice steady even though my hands were shaking.

"Yes, at first it showed Mr. Victor Ashford's name, but something changed as I tried to access the server the second time . His name disappeared. It was as if it was designed to show his name and then disappear when accessed on a different IP address," he explained.

I opened the file slowly, my fingers trembling as I pulled out the first paper. The first document showed the amount issued. $1 million dollars. A clean transaction. A clear payment. A murder wrapped in paperwork.

"$1 million dollars," I whispered.

"Sir, there is more to this death," the private investigator said.

I picked up another paper. This one directly showed the name of my father's first company. Ashford Holdings. The date the money was issued. To an anonymous account number. Someone had been very careful. Someone had hidden the tracks well. But not well enough.

"What about the anonymous number? Did you get it?" I asked, my voice suddenly very cold.

"No, sir, I couldn't trace it. It was routed through multiple shell companies and offshore accounts. Whoever set this up knew what they were doing," he said.

"So what the hell did I hire you for?" I banged the table angrily. The papers lifted at the effect of the hit, scattering across the surface like fallen leaves. I stood up, removing two buttons from the front of my shirt as the anger rose in my chest. I walked to my fridge and poured myself a glass of wine with shaking hands.

"I want everything about this clear and detailed. I want to know where that money went. I want to know who received it. I want to know every transaction that followed," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

"Yes, sir," the investigator said, understanding that he had failed me.

He left without another word.

I folded my hands tightly, sipping my wine, staring at the city below through my floor-to-ceiling windows. The city that my father had built his empire in. The city where he had ordered a murder and gotten away with it. The city where Sienna's parents had died because of him.

I raised my phone and scrolled through my contact list as I dialed a number saved as D'law.

"Hello, D'law. Meet me at the intersection. My wife would be waiting," I said into the phone.

I ended the call before he could ask questions.

I tapped my fingers on the glass wall, thinking. These people- whoever had set up the anonymous accounts, whoever had hidden my father's involvement- were playing tricks on me. They were trying to cover their tracks. But one thing was resolved. As long as I had breath in my body, I would protect her. I would protect Sienna. Even if it meant destroying my own father.

I placed my wine glass on the shelf and removed my coat from the hanger, walking out of the office.

"Oh, sir, I was about to ring the intercoms," Miranda said, appearing from nowhere with a notebook and pen in her hands. "The press conference has spiraled online. The Tilly Daily reporters have requested for an interview. And for the branch in the Netherlands, Director Lee sent a report for you to check, sir."

We walked to the elevator as she pressed the button for my personal exit.

"Send everything to my email," I said.

"But sir, you haven't reviewed the Netherlands report yet, and the interview request is quite urgent…"

I cut her off. "I have something to deal with today. By tomorrow, it will sort itself."

"Okay, sir," she said, understanding not to push further.

There was silence in the elevator ride down. Just the soft hum of the machinery and the weight of what I had just learned.

"Next tomorrow, there will be a general meeting with everyone," I added, needing to say something to fill the silence.

"Alright, sir, I will pass out your message," Miranda replied.

Forty-five minutes later, my driver had pulled out of the curb and lifted my lawyer as we headed back to my penthouse. I sat in the back seat, staring out the window, trying to figure out how to keep living this lie. How to keep pretending that my father was innocent. How to keep protecting Sienna from the truth.

When we arrived at the penthouse, I stepped out of the elevator and saw her. Sienna. Sitting on my couch like she belonged there. Like she had always belonged there.

And the realization hit me hard.

I might have always wanted her to be mine. Right from the day I saw her standing beside Dominic in that business meeting, looking so naive, so out of place in his world. I might have fallen in love with her right from that moment. Before the proposition. Before the contract marriage. Before any of this.

As soon as she raised her head and saw me, she smiled. That smile changed her entire face. Made her look younger. Made her look hopeful. She was so good at pretending. So good at acting like this was a real marriage. I found it amusing that she didn't know the weight of why I had presented her with this proposition in the first place. Why I wanted to use her. 

"You are back?" she said, her voice warm.

I nodded as I turned to the lawyer who had been silent, watching everything.

"Meet my wife, Sienna Ashford," I said, the words feeling both true and false at the same time.

"Oh, it's my pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Sienna," the lawyer said, offering his hand.

I watched her accept the handshake with a smile. She was gracious. Polite. Everything a wife should be.

"Thank you," she replied.

Soon the real thing started. The papers. The signatures. The legal documents that would bind her to me for one year. I just sat back and watched, my eyes kept falling back on her. She was gorgeous. She had always been. The way she concentrated on reading through the documents. The way her bottom lip caught between her teeth when she was thinking. 

"I will need your signature here, ma'am," the lawyer said.

She scribbled on the paper and turned her head at me.

"So what next now?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow, but the lawyer beat me to it.

"That's all, Mrs. Ashford. Everything is stamped already. When the contract ends, everything goes with it," he said.

She nodded, her expression changing. Her language was different now. Determined. Resolved. The lawyer soon left, taking his documents with him.

"So," I started, standing up.

She faced me. I took a step closer. And she moved backward. A step. I moved forward.

"What... what are you doing?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

"Well, I needed to check my wife. See how my mum would see her," I said.

She blinked, confusion crossing her face. I smirked.

"What? You could just check me without walking near," she stuttered, almost hitting her head on the nearby wall. I dived in between, catching her as her head nearly hit mine. My hand was on her back. Her body was pressed against me. I looked down at her, color rising on her cheeks.

"If I were my mother, I wouldn't be so disappointed," I muttered, my voice low.

"What?" she asked, her eyes blinking rapidly.

I smirked again, holding her eyes. For a moment, I forgot about the documents. I forgot about my father. I forgot about the lie. I just wanted her. Just like this.

"Can we..." she whispered.

I leaned in slowly, my face inches from hers. I could feel her breath. Could feel everything I wanted but couldn't have.

"The dinner," she continued quickly. "I mean, what am I going to say if your mum asks questions?"

Reality crashed back. 

"Oh, that!" I exclaimed, feigning surprise as I moved backward from her.

"Well, my mum is a curious woman. She would be in almost doing the questioning," I began, trying to regain control of myself.