Chapter 5

THE STRANGER WHO HATED MY HUSBAND

Kieran’s POV

The woman standing behind the airport glass looked like she had run out of places to go. I noticed her because everyone else was pretending not to. She stood beside a black suitcase, one hand wrapped tightly around the handle, the other clutching a folder against her chest.

Her clothes were expensive but her face was not. There was exhaustion under her eyes, and a hospital bracelet still circled her wrist. Then I noticed the black sedan. It had stopped outside the terminal.

The same man who had been sitting in it for several minutes stepped out. He looked at the woman.

She looked at him and something in her posture changed.

I had spent enough years around powerful men to recognize the difference between someone being watched and someone being hunted.

I walked toward the terminal doors. The woman immediately stepped back when she saw me.

“Why are you following me?”

I stopped, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Good. That makes two of us.”

She tightened her grip on the folder. The man outside started walking toward us. I glanced at him. Then back at her.

“Who’s he?”

“None of your business.”

I almost smiled. She was terrified and still had enough energy to be rude.

That was new, “He’s been watching you since the hospital.”

Her expression changed, “You saw him?”

“I see most things.”

“That sounds arrogant.”

“It wasn’t meant to sound humble.”

She stared at me.

I glanced down. The corner of a document had slipped from her folder. I saw the name.

CAELAN WREN.

My amusement disappeared.

“Wren?”

Her fingers immediately covered the papers.

“Yes.”

“Caelan Wren?”

She hesitated, “Not anymore.”

I looked at her properly for the first time.

“His wife?”

Her jaw tightened.

“Ex-wife.”

Something cold moved through me.nI knew that name. Everyone in Aurelia knew it. Wrenhold International. One of the city’s most powerful corporate empires. And one of the names I had spent years investigating.

Six years ago, a Wrenhold subsidiary had been connected to the financial scandal that destroyed my mother’s reputation and eventually cost her everything. She died believing she had been framed. I had spent the years since tracing the companies and transactions connected to that scandal.

Wrenhold’s name kept appearing. Never directly. Always somewhere in the shadows.

Until tonight. I looked at the woman again.

“What happened to you?”

She laughed without humor, “Nothing you can fix.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She looked away. The black sedan had moved closer. The man from the car was now standing outside the terminal. I stepped between them.

The woman immediately said, “What are you doing?”

“Standing.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know.”

The man stopped several feet away. His gaze moved from me to her. I gave him a warning look. He reached inside his jacket. My body tensed. Then he pulled out his phone.

He made a call. A moment later, the sedan drove away. I watched until it disappeared.

The woman released a breath.

“You scared him.”

“No.”

I turned toward her.

“I reminded him that other people were watching.”

She frowned.

“Why?”

“Because he was watching you.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Clearly.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re still alive.”

She looked away. For some reason, that almost made me laugh. Then I noticed the photograph sticking out of her folder.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

I reached for it. She pulled it back.

“Don’t.”

I stopped.

Not because she had ordered me to. Because I had already seen enough. A company name. A transaction code. An old subsidiary. My blood ran cold.

“Where did you get that?”

She stared at me.

“Why?”

“Answer me.”

“It was in the evidence file.”

“What evidence?”

She hesitated.

“The case against me.”

I looked at the photograph again. That company appeared in my investigation three years ago.

Then it disappeared. I’d spent months trying to find the transaction records.

“How did that get into a criminal case?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“No one.”

“Then how did you get it?”

“I photographed it before they took me away.”

I studied her face. She wasn’t lying. Or, at least, she didn’t look like someone who knew what she was holding.

“What were you accused of?”

She looked down, “Trying to kill my husband’s former lover.”

There it was. The story I had heard about on the drive to the airport.

Caelan Wren’s wife. Poisoning. Scandal. Divorce.

“Did you do it?”

Her head snapped up.

“No.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t.”

The answer caught me off guard. She swallowed.

“I don’t need you to believe me.”

At least she hadn’t come looking for another man to save her.

“Who framed you?”

“My husband’s former lover.”

“And Caelan?”

Her mouth tightened, “He believes her.”

Something unpleasant settled in my chest. Not sympathy. Recognition. I’d seen powerful men do this before. When someone weaker stood between them and the person they wanted to protect, truth became negotiable.

“What’s her name?”

“Melania Vale.”

I looked toward the terminal doors, “And your husband?”

“Caelan.”

“I know.”

She looked at me, “How?”

“Your divorce papers.”

She lowered them, “You really don’t know when to stop staring at things that aren’t yours.”

“I don’t usually care.”

“And now?”

I pointed at the photograph.

“Now I care.”

She hesitated.

“What is that company?”

I looked at her, “Something I’ve been hunting for years.”

Her expression changed.

“What does it have to do with me?”

“I don’t know yet.”

That was the truth. But I knew one thing. The transaction on that photograph had been recorded six years ago. Before Melania returned. Before the poisoning. Before tonight. Before this woman was ever accused of anything.

I looked at her.

“Did you know about this company before tonight?”

“No.”

“Did you work with Wrenhold?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

“Property acquisitions and development.”

I stared at her. Suddenly, several pieces of an old puzzle shifted. Six years ago. Wrenhold. Property transactions. My mother’s case.

And now Caelan Wren’s ex-wife is standing in front of me with evidence nobody was supposed to have.

“Did you ever question the accounts?”

Her face changed, “Recently.”

“What happened?”

“Caelan told me I was overthinking it.”

I exhaled slowly. This was no longer a coincidence. Someone had spent years burying something. And this woman had unknowingly stepped on it. She looked at me.

“Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Because I think you’re in more danger than you realize.”

She went still, “I’ve already been arrested.”

“I’m not talking about the police.”

I nodded toward the doors.

“Your husband’s former lover isn’t the only person who wants you gone.”

Her face drained.

“What do you mean?”

I took the photograph from her hand, “The transaction on this page connects to a Wrenhold deal from six years ago.”

Her lips parted.

“Six years?”

“Before Melania returned to Aurelia.”

She stared at the photograph. Then at me.

“Then why would they frame me now?”

I held her gaze.

“Maybe because you found something you weren’t supposed to.”

She looked down at the divorce papers. I saw the realization slowly reach her. Her divorce wasn’t simply the result of a jealous woman returning. Someone had needed her out of Wrenhold. Someone had needed her isolated. And someone had made sure Caelan would be the one to do it.

“Your husband didn’t just divorce you, Riona.”

She looked at me.

“He was made to.”

Her face went completely still. Before she could ask another question, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen.

Unknown number.I answered.

“Mercer.”

A man’s voice came through, “We found the woman.”

My eyes moved to Riona. She was watching me.

“Where?”

“Airport terminal.”

My grip tightened around the phone. The man continued.

“We can take her now.”

I looked through the glass. Three men had just entered the terminal. They weren’t airport securities and they weren’t alone. I ended the call.

Riona noticed my expression.

“What happened?”

I took her suitcase. She immediately reached for it.

“Give that back.”

“No.”

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive.”

“I don’t need you to…”

“You can argue with me in the air.”

Her eyes widened.

“The air?”

I looked toward the private hangar, “Get the jet ready.”

My security team moved immediately.

Riona stood frozen.

“Where are you taking me?”

I looked back at the men entering the terminal. Then at the woman who had unknowingly walked into a war six years in the making.

“Somewhere they can’t reach you.”

Her voice dropped.

“Why?”

I met her eyes, “Because now I want to know what your husband was so desperate to get rid of.”

Behind us, one of the men shouted, “That’s her!”

Riona turned. I caught her wrist.

“Run.”

She stared at me. I pulled her toward the private exit as my security team closed in around us.

“We’re taking her out of Aurelia.”

And for the first time that night, I realized I had no idea whether I was rescuing Riona from the people hunting her or walking straight into the trap they had built for her.