The wedding happened one week later.
It was small.
Quiet.
Almost painfully ordinary.
No elaborate decorations.
No guests beyond a few lawyers and company representatives.
The only flowers were the bouquet his driver purchased at a gas station on the way to the ceremony.
When we exchanged vows, Adrian’s fingers tightened around mine.
No kiss followed.
No celebration.
Just silence.
By evening, I was sitting inside the enormous mansion that now legally belonged to both of us.
The staff disappeared one by one.
Then Adrian asked everyone to leave.
Everyone except me.
The last door clicked shut.
The mansion became silent.
He rolled toward me slowly.
And for the first time since I’d met him, I saw tears in his eyes.
“There’s no way back now,” he whispered.
A chill ran through me.
“What are you talking about?”
His hands trembled.
Then he reached into a drawer beside his bed and removed a crimson envelope.
My breath caught.
Because written across the front was a name.
Lisa.
My daughter’s name.
I stared at him.
Unable to speak.
Unable to breathe.
“How do you know my daughter?”
Adrian swallowed hard.
