Seven

Marielle did not sleep.

She tried.

She turned off the lamp. She closed her eyes. She told herself that tomorrow she would need a clear head because there was a court battle waiting, a husband she barely knew, and a five-year-old boy who had somehow become the one person in this house she couldn't imagine leaving.

None of it worked.

Every time she drifted close to sleep, she saw her father's face.

Not the one from the last years when money was tight and worry had settled into the lines around his eyes. The younger version. The man who used to lift her onto the kitchen counter while he cooked dinner. The man who checked every document three times because he believed mistakes cost people more than money.

Her father had spent his whole life protecting his name.

And someone had taken it from him.

By sunrise, she gave up pretending she would rest.

When she walked downstairs, she found Grayson already in the kitchen.

That alone surprised her.

The man usually looked like he had been awake for hours because he enjoyed being ahead of everyone else. This morning he looked like sleep had forgotten him completely.

His shirt was wrinkled. His tie sat untouched beside his coffee. A stack of papers covered half the island.

Three cups sat near his hand.

All empty.

"You look terrible," she said.

His eyes lifted from the document in front of him.

A normal person might have been offended.

Grayson Cole only looked tired.

"Good morning to you too."

"I mean it kindly."

"I'd hate to see how you insult people."

"I usually have more time to prepare."

A small change crossed his face. Almost a smile.

Almost.

Then it disappeared when he looked back at the papers.

She walked closer.

"What are those?"

"The original accident reports. Insurance records. Internal maintenance logs."

"You found them overnight?"

"I had my legal team pull everything they could access."

Marielle looked at him carefully.

"Your legal team?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

She folded her arms.

"No?"

"I didn't ask them to investigate."

"Then who did?"

"I called someone outside the company."

That caught her attention.

"You hired an investigator?"

"At six this morning."

She stared at him.

"You investigated your own company before breakfast?"

His jaw tightened.

"My father is dead. The people who covered this up might not be. I need the truth before anyone else decides what version of it benefits them."

The answer should have comforted her.

Instead, it confused her.

Because she had expected excuses.

Denial.

A billionaire protecting his family name.

Not this.

Not a man sitting in his kitchen looking like he had just discovered his entire family history was built on a lie.

"I need my own investigator," she said.

"You can have one."

"I mean one who doesn't report to you."

"I know what you mean."

The ease of his answer annoyed her.

"You don't even want to argue?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because if I were in your position, I wouldn't trust me either."

That shut her up.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

The kitchen was too quiet. No staff. No phone calls. No business meetings. Just the two of them standing there with a nine-year-old secret sitting between them.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to think about you," she admitted.

Grayson looked at her.

Not angry.

Not defensive.

Just listening.

"Three weeks ago, you were a stranger who offered me money to move into your house. Then I find out your company might have destroyed my father's reputation. And now I'm married to you."

"I know."

"Do you?"

His expression changed slightly.

"Yes."

She laughed once, but there was no humor in it.

"You say that like it's simple."

"It isn't."

"Then why do you keep acting like you can fix everything?"

That landed.

For the first time since she met him, Grayson didn't immediately have an answer.

He looked down at the papers.

"I don't know how to fix this."

The honesty surprised her more than any apology could have.

"I know how to fix contracts. I know how to fix financial problems. I know how to handle people who come after my company."

He looked toward the doorway where Theo usually appeared in the mornings.

"But I don't know how to fix losing my sister. I don't know how to help a five-year-old who won't talk because the people he loved disappeared."

His voice lowered.

"And now I don't know how to fix the fact that my family hurt yours."

Marielle looked away.

She hated that she understood him.

She hated that some part of her still noticed the man underneath the money.

"Did you know about my father before Diane said his name?"

"No."

The answer came immediately.

"Not even a little?"

"No."

She searched his face.

He didn't look away.

"If I had known," he said quietly, "I never would have asked you to marry me."

That sentence stayed between them.

Because she believed him.

And she didn't know what to do with that.

A small sound came from the hallway.

They both turned.

Theo stood there in dinosaur pajamas, hair sticking up on one side, watching them.

Marielle's expression softened instantly.

"Morning, captain."

Theo looked at her, then at Grayson.

His eyes moved to the papers on the table.

Grayson noticed.

Without a word, he gathered them and moved them aside.

A tiny thing.

But she saw it.

Theo walked closer and climbed into the chair beside Marielle.

"You want pancakes?" she asked.

He nodded.

It was only a nod.

But Grayson watched it like someone had handed him a gift.

Marielle noticed.

She noticed everything about him now, and that was becoming a problem.

Later that morning, after Theo had eaten and Odette had taken him outside, Marielle found Grayson standing by the window in his study.

"You were serious yesterday," she said.

He turned.

"About what?"

"About finding the truth."

"Yes."

"Even if it hurts your family?"

His answer came without hesitation.

"Especially then."

She studied him.

The man who had built an empire was willing to tear apart part of it because a dead man's name deserved to be cleared.

She still wasn't ready to forgive him.

She wasn't even sure she trusted him.

But for the first time since Diane said her father's name, she wondered if Grayson Cole might be fighting the same battle she was.

Not against each other.

Against the people who had lied to both of them.

His phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

The expression on his face changed.

"Who is it?"

He didn't answer immediately.

That worried her.

"Grayson?"

He looked at her.

"It's my lawyer."

A pause.

Then he answered.

"Tell me what happened."

Marielle watched his face as he listened.

The color slowly drained from it.

When he finally lowered the phone, she already knew something had gone wrong.

"What?"

His eyes met hers.

"The Whitfields filed an emergency motion."

Her stomach dropped.

"For Theo?"

He nodded.

"They're claiming the marriage was arranged to manipulate the court."

The room went cold.

Marielle stared at him.

"But it was."

Grayson's silence was answer enough.

Because now they had to prove something they had never planned to be real.

That the marriage they created for a courtroom was becoming the one thing neither of them wanted to lose.