LOGINAdrian Kane was not what I expected.
I'd imagined someone older. Harder. A man who wore his power like armor. Instead, I found a man in his early thirties, dressed in a simple black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He stood by the window, hands in his pockets, watching me like I was a puzzle he hadn't decided whether to solve.
The office was sparse. A desk. Two chairs. A bookshelf filled with spines I couldn't read from this distance. No photographs. No personal touches. The room of a man who didn't want to be known.
"Miss Voss," he said. His voice was low, measured. "You're early."
"I didn't have an appointment."
"No. You didn't." He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."
I didn't sit. I stood in the center of the room, my purse clutched in both hands. I'd rehearsed this moment in the car. I'd planned what I would say. Now, standing in front of him, the words felt inadequate.
"I have information," I said.
Adrian didn't move. "So I gathered."
"About Julian Ashford. About his business dealings. His offshore accounts. His connections."
"Connections to whom?"
"To people who don't like being named."
Adrian studied me. His eyes were dark, unreadable. He didn't blink.
"You're his fiancée," he said. "Or was. The engagement party is today, if I'm not mistaken."
"It was today. I left."
"Why?"
I held his gaze. "Because I found out he's been sleeping with my stepsister. And that they're planning to steal my mother's trust fund. And that he's not the man I thought he was."
Adrian's expression didn't change. "That's a lot of reasons."
"I have a lot of reasons."
He moved away from the window. He walked to his desk but didn't sit. Instead, he leaned against the edge, arms crossed, watching me.
"What do you want, Miss Voss?"
"I want a contract marriage."
The words hung in the air. Adrian didn't laugh. He didn't look surprised. He just waited.
"I have information that can destroy Julian," I continued. "But I need resources. Protection. A name that carries weight. You have all three."
"And what do I get?"
"Everything I know. Every account number. Every shell company. Every illegal deal he's ever made. I'll give you all of it."
Adrian tilted his head. "You're offering me information I could find myself."
"Not this information. Not this fast."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "How do you know these things?"
I had prepared for this question. I'd rehearsed three different answers. None of them were the truth.
"I paid attention," I said. "Julian talks in his sleep. He leaves documents on his desk. He thinks I'm stupid."
"You're not stupid."
"No. I'm not."
Adrian pushed off from the desk. He walked toward me, slow, deliberate. He stopped a few feet away.
"You're asking me to marry a stranger. To tie my name to yours. To involve myself in a war with the Ashford family. That's not a small ask."
"I know."
"What do you get out of it? Besides revenge."
I considered the question. I could lie. I could tell him I wanted justice, closure, peace. But he'd see through it. Men like Adrian Kane didn't survive by believing pretty lies.
"I want to take everything from him," I said. "I want him to lose what I lost. I want him to watch it happen and know it was me."
Adrian didn't flinch. If anything, something in his expression shifted—not approval, exactly. Recognition.
"That's honest," he said.
"I don't have time for anything else."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he walked to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a phone. He typed something. Waited. Typed again.
"I'm going to make some calls," he said. "If we do this, it happens fast. Today. Tomorrow at the latest. There's no room for second thoughts."
"I don't have second thoughts."
"We'll see."
He looked at me. Really looked. His gaze was steady, assessing. I forced myself to hold it.
"One more thing," he said.
"What?"
"When you say you want to take everything from him—what does that mean? His money? His reputation? His life?"
I didn't hesitate. "All of it."
Adrian nodded slowly. He didn't smile. But something in his eyes changed. Something almost like respect.
"Wait here," he said. "I need to make a call."
He left the room. I stood alone in his office, surrounded by the quiet hum of the building. I looked at the bookshelf. The titles were business, law, history. Nothing personal. Nothing that told me who he was.
I wondered if anyone knew who he was.
I wondered if he did.
My phone was still off. I didn't turn it on. I didn't want to see Julian's messages. Not yet.
Adrian returned ten minutes later. His expression was unreadable.
"My legal team is preparing the paperwork," he said. "We'll need to sign today. Tomorrow at the latest. Are you available?"
"I'm available."
He nodded. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?"
The question caught me off guard. I hadn't thought that far ahead.
"I'll figure something out."
"You'll stay here. There's a guest suite. It's not luxurious, but it's secure."
I opened my mouth to refuse. Then I closed it. I had no money of my own—not yet. No place to go that Julian wouldn't find me. No one to call.
"Okay," I said.
"Good." Adrian walked to his desk and sat down. He pulled a folder from a drawer and opened it. "We'll need to discuss terms. Details. What you'll share and when. What I'll provide. How the marriage will function publicly."
I sat across from him. My legs felt unsteady. I hadn't realized how tired I was.
"The marriage will be a performance," I said. "Separate bedrooms. Public appearances only when necessary."
Adrian looked up. "That's what you want?"
"That's what I need."
He held my gaze for a moment. Then he nodded. "Fine. We'll discuss specifics later. For now, rest. You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I haven't."
"Then sleep. I'll have someone bring you food. We start tomorrow."
I stood. I walked to the door. I paused with my hand on the handle.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked. "You don't know me. You don't owe me anything."
Adrian didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was quiet.
"The Ashford family destroyed my father. I've been waiting fifteen years for an opportunity like this."
I turned. I looked at him—really looked. For the first time, I saw something beneath the surface. Something cold and patient and dangerous.
"You're using me," I said.
"I'm partnering with you," he corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
He didn't answer. He just watched me. And for a moment—just a moment—something passed across his face. Something that looked almost like guilt. Then it was gone.
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The elevator was waiting. I got in and pressed the button for the guest floor.
As the doors closed, I thought about what I'd just done. I'd walked into a stranger's office and asked him to marry me. I'd offered him information I shouldn't have. I'd tied my future to a man I didn't know.
The elevator rose.
I didn't look back.
I woke up before the sun.Not because of a nightmare. Not because of a plan. Not because of anything. I just woke up. The room was dark. The city was quiet. Adrian was beside me. His breathing was slow. Steady. I listened to it for a while.Then I got up.I walked to the kitchen. I made coffee. I sat at the island. The sky outside the window started to lighten. Gray. Then pink. Then gold.I didn't think about Volkov. I didn't think about Julian. I didn't think about Henry. I didn't think about my father. I didn't think about Mira. I just drank my coffee. And for the first time in two lifetimes, that was enough.Adrian appeared behind me. He poured himself a cup. He sat across from me."You're up early," he said."I slept."He looked at me. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.We drank in silence. The kitchen was warm. The city hummed outside.After a while, he said, "What do you want to do today?"I considered the question. I thought about the office. About the cases. About the
Adrian asked me to renew our vows on a Monday.Not with a grand gesture. Not with flowers or candles or a speech. He asked over breakfast, in the same tone he used to discuss the weather."I want to renew our vows," he said.I set down my coffee. "What?""I want to renew our vows. Not because anything's wrong. Not because I want to start over. Because I want to say it again. In front of the people who matter. Without a contract. Without a plan. Just us."I looked at him. He looked at me."When?""This weekend. If you want."I considered the question. I thought about the first wedding. The small chapel. The simple vows. The people who had stood beside us. I thought about everything that had come after. Everything we'd survived. Everything we'd built."Okay," I said.He didn't smile. But something in his expression shifted. Something warm."Good," he said.---The ceremony was even smaller than the first one.Just us. Just Daniel. Just Thomas. Just Beatriz. Just Felix. Just Sloane. A ha
It came without warning.Not peace like a lightning strike. Not peace like a revelation. Just a morning when I woke up and nothing hurt. No tightness in my chest. No weight on my shoulders. No voice in the back of my head telling me I wasn't done yet.I lay in bed for a long time. The light came through the curtains. The city hummed outside. I listened to it. I didn't count the cracks. I didn't think about the past. I just lay there.Adrian was beside me. He was still asleep. His breathing was slow. Steady. I watched him for a while. The way his chest rose and fell. The way his hand lay open on the pillow between us. Close enough to touch. I didn't touch it. I didn't need to.I got up. I walked to the kitchen. I made coffee. I sat at the island and drank it slowly. The city woke up around me. Cars. Lights. People. I watched it all through the window. It didn't feel like a threat. It didn't feel like something I had to survive. It just felt like a city. Like a place where people lived.
The prison was two hours north of the city.I drove alone. I didn't tell Adrian. I didn't tell Daniel. I just got in the car and drove. The same way I'd driven to the cemetery. The same way I'd driven to my father's cabin. The same way I'd driven to every difficult thing I'd ever had to face.The building was gray. Concrete. Windowless. The kind of place that was designed to make you feel small before you even walked through the door.I parked. I sat in the car for a long time. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just sat there.Then I got out.---The visiting room was large.Tables. Chairs. Vending machines. A guard by the door. Fluorescent lights that hummed. The kind of room where people spoke in low voices and tried not to cry.I sat at a table near the back. I waited.Mira walked in five minutes later.She looked different. Thinner. Paler. Her hair was pulled back. No makeup. No jewelry. Just a plain gray uniform and hands that wouldn't stop moving.She sat across from me. She di
The firm hit its first major milestone on a Wednesday.I didn't plan it. I didn't expect it. Sarah came into my office that morning with a folder and a look on her face I hadn't seen before."We closed the Grayson case," she said.I set down my pen. "What?""The Grayson case. The man whose business partner disappeared. We found him. He's alive. He's in witness protection. He testified against the people who threatened him."I looked at her. She looked at me."We closed it.""We closed it."She set the folder on my desk. I opened it. The report. The evidence. The outcome. Everything we'd worked on for months. Everything we'd built.I closed the folder. I looked at the window. At the city. At the light."Good," I said.Sarah nodded. She didn't smile. But something in her expression shifted. Something lighter."We have six clients now," she said. "Three journalists. Two investigators. One family. We're growing."I looked at her. She looked at me."We're building something," I said."We a
My father died on a Sunday.I wasn't there. I was at home. Adrian was making breakfast. I was sitting at the island, reading a report from Sarah, when my phone buzzed.Cecilia. I answered."He's gone," she said.I didn't respond."He passed an hour ago. In his sleep. He wasn't alone. I was there."I set the phone down. I looked at Adrian. He looked at me. He didn't ask what had happened. He could see it on my face."My father died," I said.He set down the pan. He walked to me. He didn't reach for me. He didn't take my hand. He just stood there."I'm sorry," he said.I didn't respond. I didn't know how.---The funeral was small.Just me. Just Daniel. Just Adrian. Just Cecilia. A few others who had known him before he disappeared. It was a graveside service. No church. No reception. He'd asked for it that way. Cecilia told me he'd written it down years ago.Daniel stood beside me. He didn't speak. He didn't cry. He just stood there.The minister said a few words. He didn't know my fat







