Chapter Seven:

“You really think he married you for love?” The words hang in the air like smoke that refuses to clear.

I don’t look at Adrian. Not yet.

Victor stands near the entrance as if this is still his house, as if he did not just lose control in court this morning. His coat is still on. Calm. Polite. Deadly. Adrian’s body shifts slightly in front of mine. Not obvious. Just enough to block.

“That’s enough,” Adrian says.

Victor smiles faintly. “Is it?”

I step sideways so I can see both of them. “Answer him.” Adrian turns to me. “Seraphina.” “Did you?” My voice doesn’t rise. That makes it worse. Victor watched carefully. He is not here to shout. He is here to divide.

Adrian’s jaw tightens. “I married you for a reason.”

“Not what I asked.”

Silence stretches. I can feel security hovering behind Victor, uncertain, waiting for orders that no one is giving. Victor adjusts his cufflinks. “He needed your signature.” My stomach tightens. Adrian doesn’t deny it fast enough.

That delay burns.

“For the amendment,” Victor continues. “For the transfer clause. Without a spouse, it wouldn’t activate.” I remember the paperwork. The rushed meeting. The urgency. Adrian said it was protection. Protection from who?

I swallow. “So I was convenient.”

“You were strategic,” Adrian says. The word lands harder than if he had said yes. Victor tilts his head slightly. “He told you it was about revenge against me. That part is true. But revenge is rarely romantic.”

Something inside me stiffens. I refused to break in front of him.

“Why are you here?” I asked Victor.

He looks at me like I just disappointed him. “You answered a phone call you shouldn’t have.” My heart skips. “Where is she?”

A flicker crosses his face. Brief. Controlled. Adrian steps forward. “You don’t get to threaten her.” Victor laughs softly. “Threaten? I raised her.” Raised. The word tastes wrong.

“You erased my mother,” I say. “I protected you,” he replies smoothly.

From what?

The question claws at me, but I don’t give it voice. Adrian’s hand brushes my back, grounding. I move away without thinking. That small movement doesn’t go unnoticed.

Victor’s eyes narrowed just a little. “There it is,” he murmured. Adrian turns fully toward him. “Leave.” Victor studies me instead. “If you want the truth, you’ll come alone.”

The air shifts.

Adrian immediately says, “No.”

Victor smiles faintly. “See? Control.” “I’m not a child,” I snap. Adrian’s gaze drops to mine. There’s tension there. Not anger. Something heavier. “You don’t know what he’s capable of,” Adrian says. “And you do?” “Yes.” “How?” Another silence. Victor watches like a chess player waiting for someone to touch the wrong piece. Adrian finally answers. “Because my father tried to expose him.” The room goes still.

Victor’s expression did not change. That’s what makes it worse. “And?” I ask quietly. “And he died three weeks later,” Adrian says. The words don’t explode. They sink. Victor exhales slowly. “Careful.”

“Was it an accident?” I ask.

Victor meets my eyes. “Everything looks like an accident when you’re emotional.” That familiar tone. The one that makes doubt feel like weakness. Adrian’s voice hardens. “You think this is still your game?”

“It has always been my game,” Victor replies.

I feel something shift inside me. Not fear. Not yet. Something colder. “You want me alone?” I ask. Adrian turns sharply. “No.” Victor nods once. “Tomorrow. Eight p.m. My office.”

“I’ll come,” I say.

Adrian grabs my wrist. Not harsh. Desperate. “You’re not going.” I look at him slowly. “You married me for strategy.” His grip loosens slightly. “Don’t start this,” he says. “Why not? It started long before I knew.”

Victor’s lips curved faintly.

Adrian lowers his voice. “I did what I had to.” “So did he,” I reply.

That lands.

Victor steps back toward the door. “Eight p.m. Don’t be late.” He leaves as calmly as he arrived. The doors close. Silence floods the hallway. Adrian runs a hand through his hair. For the first time, he looks less controlled.

“You can’t meet him alone,” he says. “Why? Because you didn’t plan for that?” “This isn’t about control.” “It feels like it.” His eyes flash. “You think I enjoy this?”

“I don’t know what you enjoy.” The words come out sharper than I expected. He stares at me like he wants to say something else. Something unguarded. Instead, he says, “He’ll twist everything.” “He already has.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because this time he’s targeting us.” Us again. I fold my arms. “There is no us. There’s you and your strategy.” That hits harder than I intended. Adrian’s voice drops. “If it was only a strategy, I would’ve walked away after the amendment was activated.”

“Maybe you’re waiting for twelve months.”

His eyes darken.

“You think I care about the clause?” “I think you care about winning.” He steps closer. “You’re not a trophy.” “No. I’m leveraging.” The silence after that feels dangerous. Unexpectedly, Adrian laughs once. Not amused. Almost tired. “You really don’t see it,” he says quietly.

“See what?”

“I’m losing control too.” That wasn’t the answer I expected.

I hesitate.

He continues, softer now. “I planned every move. Every document. Every meeting. And then you started making choices I didn’t predict.” “That’s not romantic,” I say. “It wasn’t supposed to be.” The honesty unsettles me more than manipulation would have.

My phone buzzes again. Same blocked number. Adrian and I both look at it. I answer immediately. “Hello?” Breathing. Faint. “Don’t trust him,” my mother’s voice whispers. My heart stumbles. “Where are you?” “He knows,” she says. “He always knows.”

“Who?”

Silence.

Then, very clearly, “Not just your father.”

The line goes dead. My hand shakes slightly. I lower the phone slowly. Adrian searches my face. “What did she say?” “She said not to trust you.” The words sit between us. He doesn’t look offended. He looks resigned. “That’s convenient,” he murmurs.

“Is it true?”

“Do you think I’m hiding her?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.” He steps closer again, slower this time. Careful. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it cleanly,” he says. “That’s not comforting.”

“I don’t play halfway.”

His honesty is brutal.

I search his face for cracks. For guilt. For something that confirms Victor’s accusation. Instead, I see tension. Strain. Something unspoken. “You said your father tried to expose him,” I say quietly. “Expose what?” Adrian hesitates. That hesitation feels heavier than before. “Financial fraud,” he says finally. “That doesn’t require someone disappearing.” “There were other things.”

“What things?”

He looks away briefly.

That small action twists something in my chest.

“Adrian.” Footsteps echo suddenly from the corridor. Security again. One of them rushes forward. “Sir, there’s been a breach in the east wing.” Adrian’s posture shifts instantly. Alert. “What kind of breach?” he asks. “Someone accessed the private archive.” My blood runs cold.

The archive.

That’s where the original documents are kept. The old wills. The birth certificates. The sealed medical reports. “Who?” I ask. The guard swallows. “We don’t know. The system was overridden.” Adrian’s jaw tightens. “Show me.” We move quickly down the hallway. My thoughts race. If someone accessed the archive, they weren’t looking for jewelry or cash. They were looking for proof. We reach the room. The door is open. Inside, drawers are pulled out. Files scattered.

But it’s not chaos.

It’s targeted. Adrian goes straight to one cabinet. Opens it.

Empty.

His expression shifts in a way I’ve never seen before. “What was there?” I ask. He doesn’t answer immediately. That silence is louder than any confession.

“Adrian.”

He finally looks at me. “Your mother’s original medical file,” he says. My chest tightens painfully.

“And?” I whisper. “And the paternity report your father sealed fifteen years ago.” The world tilts. “What paternity report?” Adrian’s voice is steady, but his eyes are not. “The one that proves Victor Hale isn’t your biological father.”

Everything inside me goes completely still. For a second, I think I misheard. “That’s not possible,” I say. “It is.” I shake my head slowly. “No. He raised me.”

“Yes.”

“He controlled everything.” “Yes.”

“He destroyed anyone who crossed him.”

“Yes.”

“Then why would he keep me?” Adrian doesn’t answer. That frightens me more than anything else tonight. Because if Victor isn’t my father. Then why did he fight so hard to keep me close? And as that question settles in my chest like a ticking bomb, Adrian says quietly.

“Because the man who is, is still alive.”