That was the first real crack.
Adrian had built his entire new image around that lie. Poor Adrian, trapped in a loveless marriage with a cold wife who couldn’t give him children. Noble Adrian, rebuilding his life with a younger, loyal woman. Generous Adrian, leaving me with “more than enough.”
I let him keep talking.
I let him post online.
I let him do interviews, move money around, restructure accounts, parade around his wedding, and turn my name into some tragic cautionary story.
What Adrian forgot was who I’d been before I ever became his wife.
I wasn’t decoration.
I wasn’t just Mrs. Carter smiling beside him at corporate galas.
I was a forensic financial analyst.
And Carter Holdings still had one fatal weakness Adrian never understood: the Bennett Trust my father established before he died. The same trust Adrian secretly used as collateral without authorization. The same trust Vanessa helped manipulate using forged signatures because they believed I’d never bother checking.
Adrian swallowed hard.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do all this?”
“You called me.”
Vanessa clutched his arm tightly.
