CHAPTER 4: The Signature

I didn't ask Darian another question.

Not because I had run out of them.

Because I had finally understood that every answer he gave me came with another piece missing.

I picked up my handbag.

“Arielle, where are you going?”

“To get the document.”

His face tightened.

“What document?”

“The one you asked me to sign.”

He went quiet.

I noticed.

“You remember it.”

“I remember.”

“Good.”

I walked toward the door.

He moved in front of me.

“Please don't do this now.”

I stopped.

“Do what?”

“Turn this into something it isn't.”

I looked at him.

“You've spent the last year telling another woman you're leaving me. You've been sending her money. You've hidden a company from me. And now I've discovered my signature may be connected to that company.”

My voice stayed calm.

“I don't think I'm the one turning this into something.”

He looked away.

I stepped around him.

“Arielle.”

I kept walking.

He followed me.

“You don't understand what that document was.”

“Then I'm going to read it.”

“It was complicated.”

“So is my wedding morning.”

He stopped.

I opened the door.

For a moment, I thought he might say something that would make me stay.

He didn't.

I walked into the hallway.

The wedding coordinator was standing several feet away, talking to one of the hotel staff.

When she saw me, she smiled.

“Everything okay?”

I forced a small smile.

“Yes.”

It was the easiest lie I'd told that morning.

I walked past her.

I wasn't going to the ballroom.

I wasn't going to the altar.

I wasn't even going to look for my family.

I needed somewhere quiet.

The hotel had a small business lounge on the second floor. I had used it once during a conference with my hospital.

I went there and found an empty table near the window.

Then I opened my email.

I searched for Darian's name.

Hundreds of messages appeared.

Travel confirmations.

Invoices.

Wedding arrangements.

Photos.

Old conversations.

I added another search.

Aster Holdings.

Three results.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

The first email was from six months ago.

Subject: Documents for signature

I opened it.

Darian had sent me three attachments.

The message was short.

These are the documents I mentioned. Just sign the highlighted sections and send them back. It will help with the financing.

I stared at the words.

It will help with the financing.

I remembered that day.

I had been sitting at the kitchen counter after a twelve-hour shift.

I was exhausted.

Darian had placed the papers in front of me.

“It's just a formality,” he'd said.

I had asked what it was for.

“A friend's business.”

I hadn't questioned him again.

I opened the attachment.

I read it once. Then I noticed something, the document was incomplete. I scrolled down. There was a second page I hadn't seen. The personal guarantee was on the second page.

The first page appeared.

ASTER HOLDINGS LTD.

My eyes moved down the page.

Registered director.

Darian Vale.

I kept reading.

Shareholder.

Darian Vale.

Then I reached the section I had signed.

Personal Guarantee.

I stopped.

I read it again.

Personal guarantee.

My name was underneath it.

My signature was there.

The date was there.

Six months ago.

I leaned back in my chair.

For a few seconds, I couldn't think.

I had signed a personal guarantee.

Personal guarantee. I knew what that meant. If the company defaulted, I would be personally responsible. My savings. My credit. My future earnings. All of it would be at risk.

For a company I didn't know existed.

For a company I didn't know existed.

A company Darian owned.

I scrolled further.

The document mentioned a credit facility.

A substantial one.

I read the amount.

£250,000.

I stared at the number.

Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.

My name was attached to it.

I didn't remember agreeing to that.

I didn't remember anyone explaining it.

I took a screenshot.

Then another.

My phone rang. I looked at the screen. Darian. I let it ring. A moment later, the call ended.

Then I heard footsteps in the hallway. I held my breath, my body going still. They slowed near the door. I didn't move. After a moment, they continued past. He hadn't found me.

I went back to the document.

There was another attachment.

I opened it.

It was a loan agreement.

The borrower was Aster Holdings.

The lender was a private investment company.

The amount was the same.

£250,000.

The repayment schedule stretched over three years.

Then I saw something that made me stop.

The first payment had already been made.

Not by Aster Holdings.

By me.

I checked the account number.

It was our joint account.

I opened my banking app.

There it was.

A payment made six months ago.

£18,000.

I remembered that payment. Darian had told me it was for wedding expenses. I had believed him.

I remembered standing in the kitchen that morning, watching him confirm the transfer on his phone. He'd said it was exciting, finally seeing our future taking shape. He'd been lying the whole time.

I looked back at the loan agreement.

The payment had been listed as an initial contribution toward the financing.

My wedding money.

Our savings.

My money.

I closed my eyes.

The room around me seemed suddenly too bright.

I opened them again.

There was one more attachment.

A spreadsheet.

I clicked it.

Several payments were listed.

Property.

Consulting.

Legal fees.

Transfers.

My eyes moved down the page.

Then I saw Vesper's name.

V. Lorne Consulting — £8,500 monthly.

Eleven payments.

I counted them.

Eleven.

The first one was made almost a year ago.

Before Darian ever asked me to sign the Aster Holdings documents.

That changed everything.

The company hadn't been created because of Vesper.

It had already existed.

The money had already been moving.

The property had already been arranged.

The affair hadn't created the secret life.

The secret life had been there first.

I scrolled further.

Another payment appeared.

Lorne Residence — Final Property Settlement.

Then another.

Aster Holdings — Capital Transfer.

I stared at the screen.

There were too many pieces.

Too many things I had never known.

But one thing was becoming clear.

Darian hadn't simply been hiding Vesper from me.

He had been hiding an entire financial structure.

And somehow, I had been helping him build it.

My phone buzzed again.

This time it wasn't a call.

A message from Darian.

Please don't read those documents without me.

I stared at the message.

Then another appeared.

There are things in there I can explain.

I almost smiled.

Of course there were.

I typed one sentence.

Then you should have explained them before I signed.

I didn't send it.

I deleted it.

There was no point arguing through a screen.

I returned to the documents.

Near the bottom of the loan agreement was a section I hadn't noticed before.

Security and Beneficial Interest.

I read it slowly.

The company had offered assets as security for the loan.

One of those assets was the property listed under Vesper's name.

But there was something else.

A second property.

I recognized the address immediately.

My apartment.

The home Darian and I had lived in for four years.

I stopped.

I read the line again.

Our home had been listed as collateral.

I looked up from the phone. The room around me was still. I could hear my own heartbeat. Our home. He'd put our home at risk.

I felt my hands go still.

Darian hadn't only risked money I thought we were saving for our wedding.

He had put our home into the same structure.

The one I had signed for.

The one I knew nothing about.

I closed the document.

For the first time that morning, I understood why Darian had looked afraid.

It wasn't because I had discovered Vesper.

It wasn't even because I knew about Aster Holdings.

It was because I had finally found the part of the truth that could hurt both of us.

I stood.

I picked up my handbag.

My wedding was supposed to begin in less than two hours.

But suddenly, the ceremony was the least important thing in the room.

I looked down at the engagement ring still sitting inside my bag.

Seven years of love had brought me

to this morning.

But one signature had shown me something I had never wanted to see.

I hadn't just been Darian's fiancée.

I might have been his safety net.

And I had signed my name without knowing what I was protecting.