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6. The Interrogation

Author: Frya Isaac
last update publish date: 2026-03-15 17:59:52

Victoria’s gaze bore into her like a scalpel. “So, Evelyn,” she began, sharp and measured. “Let’s dispense with the pleasantries. You’ve appeared as Kael’s secret wife. No invitations, no evidence. How does someone like you… snare a man like him?”

Evie swallowed, remembering Thorne’s hurried instructions the night before. Keep calm. Stick to the story. “We met at a charity event in Greece,” she said, voice steady. “It was… unexpected. Kael wanted privacy because of the press. His family life is… complicated.”

Damien leaned against a marble column, arms crossed. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Complicated? That’s one way to put it. Kael documented everything—deals, enemies, even coffee preferences. But a wife? Poof, no record. You—a freelance writer scraping by on obituaries? What’s the real story, Evelyn? Blackmail? Some scheme with Thorne?”

Evie’s cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. “It’s not a scam. We eloped. There are witnesses—”

“Witnesses?” Victoria’s lips curved coldly. “Show me one. Now.”

Evie’s mind went blank. Thorne had promised fabricated proof, but it wasn’t ready. “They’re private,” she said carefully. “Secure drive. I can get them later.”

Damien chuckled, a sharp, unpleasant sound. “Sloppy, Evelyn. Very sloppy. Your mother’s hospital bills—suddenly paid in full the day after Kael’s ‘death.’ Coincidence? Or payment for services rendered?”

Evie’s pulse quickened. Her eyes darted to the window, imagining a shadow outside—Kael? Watching, waiting? Could he really be helping her?

Ravenna’s voice, calm but cutting, broke her train of thought. “Payment or not, Evelyn, the timing is suspicious. You’re stepping into a world you barely understand.”

Evie drew a breath. “I know it seems sudden. But the marriage is real. Thorne has everything documented.”

Victoria’s expression hardened. “Damien’s right. Kael built Voss from nothing. I won’t let some gold-digging imposter waltz in and take it. Admit it now, maybe we’ll let you keep your dignity. Refuse, and we’ll bury you in court.”

Evie’s hands clenched in her lap. “Kael told me about the empire, how he started with that first app, bootstrapped it…”

“Bootstrapped?” Damien’s voice rose. “Kael never took loans. Funded it himself from his trust fund. You don’t even know the basics. Who are you really, Evelyn Monroe?”

The use of her real name stung. How did they know? Evie’s mind raced, recalling the shadowy figure outside the bedroom door the night before.

The door swung open, and Reginald Thorne entered, briefcase in hand. “Mrs. Voss,” he said, nodding to Evie. “Victoria, Damien. I see you’ve started without me.”

Victoria straightened. “Thorne. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, but it does.” He opened his briefcase, pulling out documents. “Marriage certificate, photos from the ceremony, bank records showing joint accounts, and statements from villa staff.”

Damien snatched the certificate, frowning. “Could be forged.”

“Challenge it in court, if you dare,” Thorne said evenly. “Kael anticipated this. Any contestation triggers an audit of family finances. Victoria, your offshore accounts? Damien, your failing startups? All fair game.”

A tense silence fell. Victoria’s face paled slightly, greed laid bare. Damien’s jaw clenched, ambitions exposed.

Victoria exchanged a glance with Damien, then forced a tight smile. “Very well. For now. But this isn’t over, Thorne. Or you, Evelyn.”

Thorne gestured to the door. “I’m sure it isn’t. Allow me to escort you out.”

As they filed out, Victoria shot Evie one last venomous look.

Evie slumped back in her chair, exhaling shakily. The coffee had gone cold. Her mind whirred with strategy. She had survived this far by thinking ahead. And she would survive the next steps too.

From behind the decorative panel in the sunroom wall—a hidden service door—she thought she heard a faint whisper:

“They’re lying to you—meet me tonight.”

Evie froze.

Her pulse raced. Not when every decision could cost her more than just dignity.

***

Kael Voss pressed himself against the hidden alcove behind the sunroom’s ornate panel. Through the peephole, he tracked every detail—the way her dark hair caught the fading light, the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the defiance etched into her posture as Victoria and Damien threw accusations at her.

“Impressive,” Kael murmured under his breath. “She’s not breaking… not yet.”

Malik, standing just behind him, checked the surveillance feed on a small tablet. “She’s holding, boss. But they’re relentless. Victoria’s barbed words, Damien’s insinuations… if this drags on, she might crack.”

Kael didn’t take his eyes off Evie. “That’s the point. She must withstand it. Every challenge she faces tonight is part of the assessment—her loyalty, her instincts, her capacity to survive under pressure.”

Malik frowned. “You’re asking a lot of her. She’s just… a woman.”

Kael’s gray eyes fixed on him. “She’s not just a woman, Malik. She’s Evelyn Voss now—or will be. Survival isn’t about comfort. It’s about proving that she can walk through fire without screaming. And fire… is exactly what she’s standing in right now.”

Malik swallowed. “And if she fails?”

Kael’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Then we learn. Every misstep is information. Every hesitation, every micro-expression… it tells us how to protect her—or how to push harder.”

Malik glanced at the screen again. “She’s smart, I’ll give you that.”

Kael’s hand brushed the edge of the panel, steady, measured. “Good. She needs to understand the stakes before I step back into the game.”

Malik nodded slowly. “You want me to intervene? Distract them? Make a way for her to slip out?”

Kael shook his head. “No. Not yet. Intervention now would ruin the lesson. She needs to face them alone, to realize her strength. Only after she proves it does she get the relief of my hand guiding her.”

Malik’s jaw tightened. “Understood. But she’s close to panic, boss. And they’re ruthless. If this goes south…”

Kael’s gaze hardened. “It won’t. She’s enduring, Malik. Watch her hands, her voice, her breathing. These are her weapons. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s learning fast. And that makes her dangerous—in a good way.”

Malik exhaled quietly. “She is… remarkable. Even with all this pressure, she’s not folding.”

Kael’s eyes softened slightly, though only in shadow. “Yes. Remarkable. And one day, she may not just survive in my world… she may own it. But tonight, she survives for me, and that’s enough.”

He leaned closer to the peephole, watching her argue back, hold her ground. She was resilient. Clever. And far braver than most men he’d ever put in danger.

Malik glanced at him again. “Should I prepare the extraction route, just in case?”

Kael shook his head once more. “Patience. This is training, not rescue. Let her show she can endure. Let her prove she can make decisions under pressure. If she falters… we learn, and adjust. If she succeeds… we gain a partner who can walk through hell without flinching.”

Malik nodded, lips tight. “I’ll stay ready, boss. Always.”

Kael exhaled slowly, his hand still on the panel. “Good.”

***

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