My father humiliated me in front of nearly 300 guests at my sister’s lavish Boston wedding, drenching my custom silk gown in red wine while my mother called me a “pathetic spinster” and the ballroom erupted in laughter. I wiped the wine from my face, made one quiet phone call, and twenty minutes later four men in black suits entered the room, followed by the husband my family never knew I had.

The interior of the car was dark, illuminated only by the passing streetlights.

Adrian pulled out a thick, sealed manila folder. The emblem of Vale Capital was embossed in gold on the front, but there was a secondary logo beneath it—one I didn't recognize. It looked like a crest depicting a wolf holding a crown.

He didn't open it. He simply placed it on the leather seat between us.

I sat up slightly, staring at the folder. The warm, protective aura Adrian had carried all night shifted subtly, replaced by something much colder and far more dangerous.

“What is that?” I asked, my voice hesitant.

Adrian turned to look at me. His dark eyes, which had just watched the destruction of my family without a hint of remorse, now held a shadow of deep, profound exhaustion.

“I promised I would help you burn down the people who hurt you, Meredith,” Adrian said softly, his jaw tightening. “And I always keep my promises.”

He placed his large hand over the file.

“But when you married me, you didn't just marry a CEO. You married into a legacy. A legacy that is currently under attack by people far more dangerous than Arthur and Martha Harrington.”

My breath caught in my throat. I stared at the man I loved, realizing that despite everything I knew about him, there were still entire oceans of secrets he hadn't revealed.

“That folder,” Adrian continued, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper, “contains the names of the people who murdered my father.”