Chapter 2 - THE FIANCÉE WHO KNEW MY SECRETS
My name is Roman DeLuca.
At forty-four, I controlled a business empire that stretched from Manhattan shipping terminals to private investment firms in New Jersey.
Some of those businesses were legitimate.
Others had histories I wasn't proud of.
People called me a mafia boss.
I had spent years trying to make that description less accurate.
But old enemies did not disappear simply because a man decided he wanted a different life.
Neither did old secrets.
Vivien emerged from my study four minutes later.
I was standing near the staircase, holding my phone.
She stopped.
“Roman?”
Her surprise lasted less than a second.
Then she smiled.
“Darling. You're home early.”
I looked at her handbag.
“Meeting ended.”
She approached and kissed my cheek.
“You should have called.”
“I thought I'd surprise you.”
She laughed.
“Well, you certainly did.”
I studied her face.
Three years.
We had been together for three years.
I had believed she understood me better than anyone.
She knew about my father's death.
My younger brother's addiction.
The mistakes I'd made in my twenties.
The enemies I'd buried in courtrooms and boardrooms rather than graves.
I had told her things I had never told another woman.
And now she was standing in front of me with stolen documents in her handbag.
“Where were you?” I asked.
She blinked.
“The library.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at wedding photographs.”
I nodded.
“Find anything interesting?”
Her smile remained perfect.
“Only how handsome my future husband is.”
She touched my chest.
I forced myself not to move away.
That evening, I summoned my security chief, Daniel Mercer.
Daniel had worked for me for twelve years.
He was the closest thing I had to a brother.
I showed him the hallway security footage.
Vivien entering my study.
Vivien leaving with the handbag.
Daniel frowned.
“Boss, that room isn't covered internally.”
“I know.”
“Then we don't know what she took.”
“I do.”
He looked at me.
“The blue folder.”
Daniel went still.
“That's impossible.”
I nodded.
“Apparently not.”
The blue folder contained records of my father's private trust.
Not ordinary financial statements.
Documents identifying hidden ownership interests in several properties, along with evidence that certain holdings had been transferred unlawfully years earlier.
If someone obtained those records and manipulated the associated legal process, they could create chaos across my companies.
But the documents were only half the danger.
The other half was the safe itself.
I looked at Daniel.
“Find out who had access to my security systems.”
He nodded.
“And Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“Keep Vivien under observation. Quietly.”
He hesitated.
“What about the wedding?”
I looked toward the window.
May you like
Rain slid down the glass.
“For now,” I said, “the wedding stays on the calendar.”
