PART 3
The sound of Adrian’s panic followed us through the hallway.
“Please, listen to me!”
For the first time since I met him, Adrian Vale wasn’t commanding anyone.
He wasn’t ordering.
He wasn’t threatening.
He was begging.
But it was too late.
My father walked beside me as the security team escorted Adrian away.
His footsteps were calm.
Measured.
The same way he walked into every room.
Not because he needed to prove he was powerful.
Because he already knew.
Real power never needed to shout.
I looked down at my hands.
They were shaking.
Not from fear.
From exhaustion.
From everything I had held inside for years.
My father noticed.
He stopped.
“Sweetheart.”
I looked at him.
And suddenly, all the strength I had forced myself to carry disappeared.
“I should have listened to you.”
His expression softened.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I ignored every warning.”
“You wanted to believe the person you loved was better than he was.”
His voice was gentle.
“That doesn’t make you foolish.”
I looked away.
“It made me blind.”
My father didn’t argue.
Because sometimes the truth hurt more when someone agreed.
We returned to my father’s estate before sunrise.
The same place I grew up.
The place where Adrian once laughed and said:
“Your family lives like royalty.”
I remembered his words.
I remembered the way he looked around.
Not impressed.
Calculating.
At the time, I ignored it.
I thought he was simply ambitious.
I didn’t realize he was measuring what he could take.
A doctor treated my injuries.
The bruises.
The cuts.
The damage Adrian left behind.
But the physical pain was easier than the memories.
Because every injury came with a question.
How did I not see it?
How did I love someone capable of this?
After the doctor left, my father entered the room carrying a file.
He placed it on the table.
“I think you need to see this.”
I looked at him.
“What is it?”
“Everything we found.”
I opened the file.
The first page made my heart stop.
Adrian Vale — Investigation Report
My hands tightened.
“You investigated him before we married?”
My father was quiet.
“Yes.”
I looked up.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Pain crossed his face.
“Because I knew you.”
A pause.
“You would have defended him.”
And he was right.
That hurt more.
Because I knew he was right.
The file contained everything.
Adrian’s previous relationships.
His financial problems.
His hidden debts.
His history of manipulating wealthy women.
My stomach turned.
There wasn’t one Vanessa.
There were others.
Women before me.
Women who thought they were special.
Women who believed his promises.
Then I saw the date.
The first time Adrian contacted me.
Three months before he ever “accidentally” met me.
My breathing stopped.
“That’s impossible.”
My father looked at me.
“What?”
I pointed.
“He knew who I was before we met.”
Silence.
Because that changed everything.
I kept reading.
And then I found it.
An email.
Between Adrian and Vanessa.
The subject line:
PROJECT HAYES
I felt cold.
I opened it.
The message was short.
“The daughter is the easiest way in. She trusts people too easily. Once I marry her, access will become simple.”
I stopped breathing.
The room blurred.
Three years.
Three years of pretending.
Three years of kisses.
Three years of him saying:
“I love you.”
All while planning.
My father sat beside me.
“I wanted to believe I was wrong.”
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
He nodded.
“I suspected.”
“Then why let me continue?”
His eyes filled slightly.
“Because every time I tried to warn you, you looked at me like I was trying to destroy your happiness.”
I looked down.
Because I remembered.
I remembered accusing him.
I remembered saying:
“You don’t know him.”
The irony almost broke me.
My father did know him.
Better than I did.
I closed the file.
“What happens now?”
My father’s expression changed.
“The police have enough for criminal charges.”
I nodded.
“And Vanessa?”
His voice hardened.
“She was never just a mistress.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She helped build the entire scheme.”
A chill ran through me.
“She knew everything?”
“Yes.”
My father opened another document.
“She helped Adrian identify targets.”
Targets.
Not wives.
Not women.
Targets.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
My father immediately looked concerned.
“Don’t answer.”
But I already knew.
Somehow, I knew.
I picked up.
“Hello?”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Adrian’s voice came through.
Broken.
Angry.
Afraid.
“You destroyed me.”
I closed my eyes.
“No, Adrian.”
My voice was calm.
“You did that yourself.”
“You think you won?”
I almost smiled.
“After everything?”
A pause.
Then his voice lowered.
“You still don’t know the truth.”
My fingers tightened.
“What truth?”
Silence.
Then he said:
“Ask your father why he never told you what happened to your mother.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
My father stood suddenly.
“Hang up.”
But Adrian continued.
“She didn’t die in an accident.”
The world went silent.
My father’s face changed.
And for the first time that night…
I saw fear in his eyes.
Real fear.
Adrian whispered:
“Your father has been hiding something from you too.”
The call ended.
I slowly lowered the phone.
Looking at my father.
“What was he talking about?”
He didn’t answer.
“Dad.”
Still nothing.
“Tell me.”
His silence became the answer.
May you like
And suddenly I realized…
Adrian wasn’t the only person who had secrets.
