Chapter 3:The money before the wedding

At exactly eleven in the morning, I arrived at Miriam Cole’s office.

The building was situated in the financial district, several streets away from the Kingsley Corporation headquarters. It was an elegant establishment with glass walls, polished floors, and receptionists who seemed accustomed to dealing with wealthy clients.

I had chosen a simple cream blouse, black trousers, and low heels.

There was no reason to dress like I was attending a royal wedding just to discuss my own money.

“Mrs. Kingsley?”

I turned toward the woman approaching me.

Miriam Cole was in her early fifties, with neatly styled brown hair and a pair of expensive glasses. She carried a leather folder beneath one arm.

“Miss Cole?”

She smiled politely.

“Please, come into my office.”

Once we were seated, she placed several documents on the desk.

“I received your message concerning the marriage agreement. I must admit, I was surprised.”

“Why?”

“You’ve never previously requested an independent review of your financial arrangements.”

I folded my hands.

“Perhaps I should have done it earlier.”

Miriam studied me briefly before opening the folder.

“Very well. Let’s begin.”

For the next thirty minutes, she explained the different provisions of Seraphina’s marriage agreement.

Some assets were protected under her personal inheritance. Others were connected to the Kingsley family trust. There were also restrictions concerning the transfer or sale of certain properties without prior approval.

The most concerning section involved the financial settlement in the event of divorce.

“Does this mean Adrian could claim part of my personal investments if we separate?”

“Not automatically,” Miriam clarified. “Your personal inheritance is protected under a separate arrangement. However, certain investments made during the marriage could become subject to dispute.”

I frowned.

“Who drafted this agreement?”

“Both families had legal representation. The final version was approved shortly before your wedding.”

I glanced at the document.

“Then I want a copy of every version.”

Miriam raised an eyebrow.

“Every version?”

“Yes. Including the earlier drafts and any amendments made before the wedding.”

She made a note.

“That can be arranged.”

I hesitated before bringing out my phone.

“There is something else.”

I showed her the anonymous email.

Miriam read it silently.

If you want to know why Vale Atelier failed, look at the transfers made three weeks before your wedding.

Her expression changed slightly.

“Where did you receive this?”

“An anonymous email.”

“Have you investigated the company?”

“Not yet. I wanted to understand my legal position first.”

Miriam placed my phone on the desk.

“Vale Atelier was one of your investments, correct?”

“According to the records, I was one of its founding investors.”

“That is correct. You contributed a substantial amount toward its establishment.”

“Then why did it collapse?”

Miriam leaned back.

“Officially, the company suffered financial difficulties and eventually lost several major investors. There were also disagreements among the shareholders.”

“Was my investment ever recovered?”

She checked another document.

“Not entirely.”

I stared at her.

“How much was lost?”

She gave me a figure.

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.

It was considerably more than I had expected.

Seraphina hadn’t simply lost a small investment. She had lost enough money to establish a successful business of her own.

“Who authorized the final share transfers?”

“I would need to examine the company’s archived records to confirm that.”

“Please do.”

Miriam closed the folder.

“I’ll request the documents. However, I would advise you not to confront anyone until we understand what happened.”

“I have no intention of confronting anyone.”

At least, not yet.

Someone had sent me that email for a reason. Whether they wanted to help me or lead me into a trap remained uncertain.

I wasn’t going to make decisions based on an anonymous message.

Before leaving, I requested copies of the marriage agreement and a full breakdown of my personal assets.

For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt I was making progress.

But I was beginning to suspect that Seraphina’s financial problems were not accidental.

By the time I returned home, my phone had accumulated several notifications.

Most were messages from Vivian.

I ignored them and opened the anonymous email again.

The sender’s address was unfamiliar, and there was no additional information.

I considered replying but eventually decided against it.

If someone was watching my activities, responding might reveal more than I wanted them to know.

Instead, I searched through Seraphina’s old emails for anything connected to Vale Atelier.

Most of the correspondence was ordinary business communication. There were meeting schedules, investment updates, and occasional complaints from suppliers.

Then I found something interesting.

An email dated three weeks before Seraphina’s wedding.

The subject read: Urgent Shareholder Approval.

I opened it.

The message was brief. It requested Seraphina’s authorization for a transfer of company shares to an investment firm called Westbridge Holdings.

But there was no reply from Seraphina.

I checked the attachment.

A scanned authorization form appeared on the screen.

At the bottom was a signature.

Seraphina Vale.

I stared at it.

The signature looked authentic, but something bothered me.

I opened another document containing several of her signed contracts and compared them.

There was a slight difference in the shape of the final letter.

It wasn’t enough to prove anything, but it was enough to make me suspicious.

Had someone forged her signature?

I saved the documents to a separate folder.

Before I could investigate further, my phone rang.

Adrian.

I considered ignoring the call, but I answered.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

I glanced around my bedroom.

“At home.”

“I know that. I asked where you’ve been all morning.”

I frowned.

“Why does that matter?”

There was a brief silence.

“Your driver mentioned taking you to a solicitor’s office.”

Of course.

I leaned against the desk.

“I had an appointment.”

“About what?”

“My personal affairs.”

“Seraphina.”

His voice carried a warning.

I almost laughed.

“Adrian, if you have a question, ask it directly.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“You’re my wife. Your decisions can affect this family.”

I looked at the documents scattered across my desk.

“Then perhaps you should have shown more interest in my affairs before now.”

He didn’t respond immediately.

I could almost picture the expression on his face.

“I don’t have time for another argument,” he finally said.

“Neither do I.”

I ended the call.

For a moment, I stared at the phone.

The original Seraphina would probably have spent the next hour wondering whether Adrian was angry with her.

I had more important things to worry about.

That evening, I received a call from Miriam.

“I’ve located something you should see,” she said.

I straightened.

“About Vale Atelier?”

“Yes. I managed to obtain a preliminary record of the share transfers. There is something unusual about the transaction.”

“What is it?”

“The shares were transferred to Westbridge Holdings shortly before your wedding. However, the company was not the final beneficiary.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“Who was?”

Miriam paused.

“I haven’t confirmed the full ownership structure yet. But one of the associated investment accounts appears to be connected to a company within the Kingsley business network.”

I went still.

The Kingsley network.

That could mean Adrian, his family, or someone doing business with them.

“Send me the documents,” I said.

“I will. But please be careful. These records are old, and I don’t want you making accusations without sufficient evidence.”

“I understand.”

After the call ended, I sat quietly for several minutes.

The anonymous email had not been a random warning.

Someone had deliberately directed me toward a transaction involving my company, my wedding, and possibly my husband’s family.

I looked at the calendar on my phone.

The Kingsley Foundation gala was only two days away.

In the original story, that evening marked the beginning of Seraphina’s public downfall. She confronted Isabella Laurent, accused her of deliberately pursuing Adrian, and threw a glass of wine at her in front of influential guests.

The scandal spread across the business community before the night ended.

I remembered how the novel described it.

Adrian had stood beside Isabella, furious and humiliated by his wife’s behavior.

Seraphina had been escorted out of the event.

That was the moment the public finally turned against her.

I closed my eyes.

I wasn’t going to repeat it.

But now, with the discovery about Westbridge Holdings, the gala had become more important than I had initially thought.

There would be people from the Kingsley business network attending. If someone connected to Vale Atelier was among them, I might finally have an opportunity to observe them.

My phone vibrated.

A message from an unfamiliar number appeared.

I heard you’ve started asking questions about Vale Atelier.

I stared at the screen.

Another message followed.

Stop looking into the company, Seraphina. Some things are better left buried.

My heart began to pound.

Whoever had sent the anonymous email was not the only person aware of my investigation.

And unlike the first message, this one didn’t sound like a warning.

It sounded like a threat.