PART 2
Adrian Cross did not take the memory drive from Evelyn right away.
He stared at it like it might explode.
For a man who had spent ten years sharpening one plan until it became almost religious, he looked suddenly unsure of what to do with the one thing he had not predicted.
Her.
Evelyn stood in the firelight with her wedding dress still tight around her ribs, her veil half loose, her bare throat marked faintly where the diamond collar had pressed into her skin.
The old man’s mask lay on the desk between them.
Wrinkled.
Empty.
A lie with eyeholes.
Adrian finally lifted his gaze.
—You kept proof against your own family?
Evelyn gave a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it.
—I kept proof because my family taught me what happens to people who trust them.
For a second, the room went quiet enough for both of them to hear the rain tapping against the tall windows of Vale Manor.
Then Adrian reached for the memory drive.
Evelyn pulled it back.
His eyes sharpened.
—Careful, Mrs. Vale.
—Don’t call me that.
—It is your legal name now.
—Then it’s the first honest crime my family ever signed me into.
Something flickered across Adrian’s face. Not pity. He was not the kind of man who offered pity easily.
Respect, maybe.
Or caution.
Evelyn held the drive between two fingers.
—Before I give you this, I need something in writing.
Adrian’s mouth curved slightly.
—You’re negotiating on your wedding night?
—You married me for revenge. I think romance already left the building.
That almost made him smile.
Almost.
—What do you want?
Evelyn swallowed. This was the part where fear tried to crawl back into her throat, where the old training whispered that good daughters stayed quiet, that women without money did not make demands from men who owned private islands and judges’ phone numbers.
But she looked at the mask again.
