Chapter 3

The next morning, I went to the study.

Waiting on the desk were the asset files Lukas had sent overnight from Switzerland by encrypted fax.

I turned to the first page and saw my mother's signature.

In my last life, I had trusted my father and my fiancé, so I never once took stock of what my mother had left me. Only now did I realize that she had already given me everything I needed to fight back.

"Three of Bordeaux's top wine estates. Two standalone office buildings in Mayfair, London. A museum-quality art collection fund worth £1.2 billion..."

I kept reading.

Most important of all was a 31 percent stake in the Ashbourne Group, all of it voting shares.

The Ashbourne Group operated in real estate, mining, and private banking, and it was the foundation of my father's power. He owned 35 percent. If I could win over a few minority shareholders, I would outvote him on the board.

"No wonder Father was in such a hurry to get me to sign the power of attorney." I scoffed.

I had ten years of business experience from my last life, so it didn't take me long to see through my father's doctored financial reports. He had been routing my dividends through shell companies in the Cayman Islands into his private accounts, then using the money to pay off his gambling debts.

I picked up the phone again. "Start the process right away. I want all the shares and property in my name moved into an independent trust in Switzerland. Without my biometrics and the signatures of three separate lawyers, no one gets to touch any of it."

"Understood, Lady Evelyn! And the £24 million your father took..."

"Leave that for now. We'll need it as evidence when we go after him. And please get in touch with Frank Mercer and Ross Hamilton. Tell them I'm willing to buy their shares at ten percent above market price."

They had both lost big on bad investments and needed cash fast. Between them, they held ten percent of the Ashbourne Group. Once I had their shares, my voting power would reach 41 percent, more than my father's.

With everything in motion, I changed into a white suit.

Until the showdown, I still had to play the bride-to-be who was busy planning her wedding.

That afternoon, I went to the bridal salon.

Several seamstresses fussed around me, fitting my wedding dress.

Adrian sat on the sofa, glancing down every so often to send a text.

He thought I couldn't see.

But his phone was reflected in the full-length mirror. He was texting Claire.

"Adrian," I said, turning around.

He quickly locked his phone. "Beautiful," he said absently. "Fit for the future lady of the Devaux family."

I walked over to him. "You seem distracted. Is work more important than being here for my dress fitting?"

He smiled and straightened his tie. "The foundation's been busy lately. You're a sensible woman. You should understand. Don't be clingy like some little girl."

Sensible. That word again. In my last life, "sensible" was the word that held me hostage until the day I died!

"Of course." I reached over to straighten his cuff links for him.

Just as my fingertips brushed across them, I froze.

A gold thread was snagged in one of them.

It came from the special fabric of the dress Claire had worn last night.

So Adrian had gone to see Claire after he left the castle the night before.

I wasn't angry. All I could think was that I finally had proof.

"What is it?" When he saw me staring at his sleeve, Adrian pulled his hand away awkwardly.

"Nothing." I plucked off the gold thread and slipped it into my pocket. "Nice cuff links."

Adrian relaxed. "Glad you like them. The guest list for the wedding is done, by the way. Claire will be your maid of honor."

My father's illegitimate daughter as my maid of honor?

Were they trying to humiliate me, or laying the groundwork for what came next?

"Fine," I said with a smile. "If she has the nerve to show up."

After I left the salon, I got into a black Land Rover.

The private investigator I'd hired handed me an envelope.

"Ms. Ashbourne, Mr. Devaux bought Claire an apartment in Mayfair. We've been following him for a week, and he's spent at least three nights there."

The envelope was full of photos.

They showed the two of them getting cozy at the apartment, in hotels, and out on the street.

In one of them, Adrian was stroking Claire's stomach.

"Keep watching them, especially in the days before the wedding. I want airtight evidence." I handed over a check.

"No problem, Ms. Ashbourne."

I closed the envelope.

Adrian. Father. Claire...

You all think you've gotten away with it. You think I'm still the fool who'll let you carve me up.

At the wedding six weeks from now, I'll see every one of you ruined and disgraced.

For now, though, it was time to get my exit plan ready.

Once I had dealt with them, I was going to Montana.

I took out the one-way plane ticket I'd already booked and brushed the dust off it.

As soon as I was done with this pile of trash, I'd go and start a brand-new life.