I woke to the sound of Adrian's voice, low and urgent.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a disoriented moment, I didn't know where I was. Then I felt the silk sheets, smelled Adrian's cologne on the pillow next to mine, and remembered.
His mansion. His bed. Our arrangement that felt less like business every day.
"...don't care what his lawyer says. The warrant is valid, execute it now." Adrian stood by the window in nothing but black silk pajama pants, phone pressed to his ear. Morning light carved shadows across his bare chest. "Good. Keep me updated."
He ended the call and turned, catching me watching him.
"Morning," he said, and something about the rough intimacy of his morning voice made my stomach flip.
"What's happening?"
"Ethan Cole is about to have a very bad morning." Adrian crossed to the bed, sat on the edge. "Federal agents are executing a search warrant on his home and offices right now. Bankruptcy fraud, embezzlement, asset concealment. They're bringing him in for questioning."
I sat up, pulling the sheets around me. "When?"
"Should be happening as we speak." He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was becoming familiar, comfortable. "How are you feeling?"
"Honestly? Terrified and excited in equal measure."
"That's normal." His thumb brushed my cheek. "Justice is terrifying when you're used to being powerless."
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and smiled sharp and satisfied.
"They got him. He's in custody."
My breath caught. "Already?"
"Tried to run. Made it to his car before they stopped him. Resisted arrest, so they added that to the charges."
I should have felt triumphant. Instead, I felt oddly numb. This was the man I'd planned to marry, who I'd loved in my past life. Watching him fall should have brought me joy.
All I felt was tired.
"Sophia?" Adrian's voice was gentle. "Talk to me."
"I don't know what I'm feeling," I admitted. "Relief, maybe? Or just... exhaustion."
"That's normal too. Revenge isn't as satisfying as people think. It's necessary, but it doesn't erase what happened." He squeezed my hand. "But it does stop him from hurting anyone else. That matters."
"Does it get easier? The guilt?"
"You have nothing to feel guilty about."
"Don't I? In another timeline, I would have married him. Loved him. Maybe if I'd been smarter, better, more..."
"Stop." Adrian's grip tightened. "What he did wasn't your fault. You were a target, not a failure. There's a difference."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to accept that I'd been a victim, not an accomplice in my own destruction.
"Come on." Adrian stood, pulled me up with him. "Get dressed. We have somewhere to be."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to a police precinct downtown.
"Why are we here?" I asked as Adrian opened my door.
"Because you deserve to look him in the eye. See him in handcuffs. Know that he can't hurt you anymore."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "I don't know if I can.."
"You can. And I'll be right beside you." He offered his hand. "Trust me?"
I took his hand. "Yes."
Inside, the precinct was chaos. Phones ringing, officers moving between desks, the sharp smell of bad coffee and cleaning solution. Adrian spoke quietly to the desk sergeant, showed some ID, and we were led through a maze of corridors to a viewing room.
One-way glass showed an interrogation room. And sitting at the metal table, wrists cuffed to a bar, was Ethan Cole.
He looked terrible. Hair disheveled, shirt wrinkled, eyes wild. This wasn't the polished businessman who'd proposed to me. This was a cornered animal.
"He can't see you," Adrian said quietly. "But you can see him."
I stepped closer to the glass. Watched Ethan fidget, sweat beading on his forehead. His lawyer sat beside him some nervous kid who looked fresh out of law school.
The door opened and two federal agents entered, folders in hand.
"Mr. Cole," the lead agent began. "Let's talk about the five million dollars you transferred out of Cole Industries yesterday."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Really? Because we have bank records showing multiple wire transfers to offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. All authorized with your login credentials."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "That's... I was moving assets for legitimate business purposes..."
"While filing for bankruptcy? That's fraud, Mr. Cole."
"I want to speak to a different lawyer."
"You can call whoever you want. But the evidence doesn't change. We also have documentation showing you've been embezzling from the Hart family trust for three years. Forged signatures, falsified documents, the works."
I watched Ethan's face drain of color.
"And then there's the matter of Vivian Hart," the other agent continued. "Regular payments from your accounts to hers. Thousands of dollars a month. Quite a generous allowance for your girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend...."
"No? We have emails between you two discussing Sophia Hart's finances. Planning how to manipulate her into signing over assets. Seems pretty intimate to me."
Ethan slumped in his chair. For the first time, he looked defeated.
"It wasn't supposed to go like this," he muttered.
"How was it supposed to go?"
"I just needed the money. The business was failing, I had debts Sophia's family had so much, they wouldn't even miss it. It was supposed to be easy."
"Easy." The agent's voice was flat. "And when did murdering Sophia's mother become part of the plan?"
My breath stopped.
Ethan's head snapped up. "What? No, I didn't I had nothing to do with that!"
"But Vivian Hart did. And you knew about it. That makes you an accessory."
"I don't know what you're talking about...."
"We have emails, Mr. Cole. Vivian discussing the 'accident' that killed Mrs. Hart. You responding with approval. That's conspiracy to commit murder."
"No, no, those emails are fake someone hacked my account.."
"Multiple digital forensics experts say otherwise."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The room tilted sideways.
Adrian's arm went around my waist, steadying me. "Easy. Breathe."
"He knew," I whispered. "He knew they killed my mother."
"Yes."
"All this time, he knew, and he stil" My voice broke.
In the interrogation room, Ethan was falling apart. His lawyer was frantically whispering to him, but Ethan wasn't listening.
"I want a deal," Ethan said suddenly. "I'll testify against Vivian and Miranda Hart. Tell you everything. But I want immunity."
The agents exchanged glances.
"We'll discuss it with the DA. But Mr. Cole? You're looking at twenty years minimum, even with cooperation. You're not walking away from this."
Twenty years. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
But it was something.
"I've seen enough," I said quietly.
Adrian nodded, led me out of the viewing room. We made it halfway down the corridor before my legs gave out.
He caught me, pulled me into an empty office, and I finally let myself break down.
"He knew," I sobbed into Adrian's shirt. "He knew they killed her and he still pretended to love me, still planned to marry me..."
"I know. I know, sweetheart." Adrian's hands stroked my back, my hair. "But he's going to pay. They're all going to pay."
"It's not enough. My mother is dead and twenty years isn't.."
"No. It's not enough. It never will be." He pulled back to look at me, wiped tears from my cheeks. "But it's what we have. And we're going to make sure he suffers every single day of those twenty years. I promise you that."
I believed him. God help me, I believed every word.
By the time we left the precinct, news of Ethan's arrest had broken. My phone exploded with notifications some supportive, many still vicious.
But the tide was turning. The evidence was too damning to ignore.
"Where to now?" I asked as we settled into the car.
"Lunch with James. He wants to discuss the wedding."
I blinked. "Wedding?"
"Our wedding. We are engaged, remember?" Adrian's expression was unreadable. "James thinks we should move quickly. Make it official before Ethan's trial starts."
"That's... soon."
"Too soon?"
Was it? We'd been engaged for three days. Known each other for less than a week. This was supposed to be temporary, a business arrangement with an expiration date.
But somewhere between the press conferences and the legal battles, between the almost-kisses and the late-night conversations, something had shifted.
"No," I said slowly. "Not too soon."
Adrian's hand found mine. "Good. Because I already told him we'd be there."
James Blackwood had reserved a private room at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants. When we arrived, he was already seated, reading something on his tablet.
"Ah, the happy couple." He stood, kissed my cheek. "Sophia, you look lovely. Adrian, you look like you need more sleep."
"Been a busy morning," Adrian said dryly.
"So I heard. Ethan Cole's arrest is all over the news. Well done."
We settled at the table. A waiter appeared immediately with champagne.
"To justice," James toasted.
We drank, and the champagne tasted like victory.
"Now," James set down his glass. "About the wedding. I assume you two have discussed this?"
"Not yet," Adrian admitted.
"Well, discuss it now. I'm thinking three weeks. That's enough time to plan something tasteful without looking rushed."
"Three weeks?" I choked on my champagne.
"Too long?" James raised an eyebrow. "Adrian, I thought you said she was eager."
"Grandfather.."
"I'm teasing. But seriously, three weeks is reasonable. Small ceremony, family and close friends only. Nothing ostentatious."
"Actually," Adrian said slowly, "I was thinking smaller. Much smaller."
James frowned. "How small?"
"Just us. And you, if you want to be there." Adrian turned to me. "Sophia, I know this isn't what you probably imagined for a wedding. But given everything with Ethan, the media circus, your family situation I think private is better. We can do something larger later if you want. But for now, something quiet. Just the people who matter."
He was giving me an out. A way to make this official without the pressure of a big production.
"I think that sounds perfect," I said honestly.
Relief flashed across his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I don't need a big wedding. I just need..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish.
"Something real," Adrian supplied quietly.
"Yes. Something real."
James watched this exchange with sharp eyes. "Well then. I'll make arrangements. We can use the estate chapel, keep it intimate. How does two weeks sound?"
Two weeks. Fourteen days until I became Mrs. Adrian Blackwood for real.
The thought should have terrified me.
It didn't.
"Two weeks is perfect," I said.
Adrian's hand found mine under the table, squeezed. "Two weeks."
We were finishing dessert when Adrian's phone rang. He glanced at it, frowned.
"I need to take this. Excuse me." He stepped out of the private room.
James seized the opportunity immediately.
"Sophia, I want to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest."
My stomach tightened. "Okay."
"Do you love my grandson?"
The question hung in the air between us.
Did I love Adrian? We'd known each other less than a week. This whole thing started as a business arrangement. I'd approached him for protection and revenge, nothing more.
But somewhere along the way, something had changed. The way he held me when I cried. The fierce protectiveness in his eyes. The gentle touches, the almost-kisses, the feeling of safety I got just being near him.
Was that love? Or just gratitude? Relief? Rebound emotions from my past life?
"I don't know," I admitted. "It's so fast, everything's happened so quickly. I care about him. I trust him. But love? I'm not sure I even know what that feels like anymore."
James nodded slowly. "Fair answer. Now let me ask you this do you plan to love him? Truly, I mean. Not just playing a role, not just gratitude for protection. Real love."
"Yes," I said without hesitation. "I want to. I think... I think maybe I'm already starting to."
"Good." James's expression softened. "Because that boy has been alone for too long. He builds walls higher than most people can see over. But you,you got through them in less than a week. That means something."
"He told me about his parents. His biological father."
"Did he?" James looked surprised. "He never talks about that. To anyone."
"He said his father died ashamed of him."
"His father died a fool," James corrected sharply. "Adrian was always too strong, too smart, too independent for that weak man. But Adrian internalized that rejection. Decided if his own father couldn't love him, no one could."
My chest ached. "That's not true."
"You and I know that. Adrian doesn't. Not yet." James leaned forward. "That's why I need you to promise me something, Sophia. Promise me that when you inevitably hurt him because all couples hurt each other sometimes you'll stay. You'll fight through it. You won't run."
"I promise," I said. "I'm not running. Not from him, not from this."
"Good. Because if you break his heart, business arrangement or not, I will make your life very difficult."
The threat was delivered pleasantly, almost fondly. But I heard the steel underneath.
"Understood," I said.
James smiled. "Excellent. Now, have you thought about a dress?"
Adrian returned looking tense.
"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.
"Vivian Hart is downstairs. In the lobby. Demanding to see you."
My blood ran cold. "How did she know we were here?"
"Good question." Adrian's jaw was tight. "Security is holding her, but she's making a scene. Threatening to go to the press if you don't talk to her."
"Let her go to the press," James said dismissively. "She has no credibility left."
"Actually," I stood, surprising them both. "I want to talk to her."
"Sophia.," Adrian started.
"I need to face her. Need her to see that I'm not the naive girl she manipulated." I met his eyes. "I need this, Adrian. To close that chapter completely."
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. But I'm coming with you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Vivian was exactly where Adrian said in the lobby, surrounded by security, drawing stares from other diners. She looked terrible. Makeup smudged, hair messy, designer dress wrinkled.
When she saw me, her expression twisted into something ugly.
"There you are, you backstabbing bitch."
Adrian moved in front of me, but I touched his arm, stepped around him.
"Hello, Vivian."
"Don't 'hello Vivian' me. Do you have any idea what you've done? Ethan is in jail because of you! The police are investigating Mother and me! Our accounts are frozen!"
"Good," I said calmly.
"Good? GOOD? We're ruined! Everything we built—"
"Everything you stole, you mean. From my mother. From me."
Vivian's laugh was shrill. "Your mother. Always your precious perfect mother. Do you know how exhausting it was, listening to Dad pine for her? Watching him compare Mother to her ghost?"
"So you killed her."
The lobby went silent. Every eye turned to us.
Vivian's face drained of color. "I didn't—that's not—"
"The police have the emails, Vivian. Yours and Ethan's. Discussing the 'accident.' Planning when to strike. Even congratulating each other after."
"Those are fake..."
"Digital forensics says otherwise." I stepped closer. "You killed my mother for her money. You targeted me for the rest. You and Ethan planned it all, and you almost got away with it."
Tears spilled down Vivian's cheeks real ones, for once. "You were always so stupid. So trusting. It was so easy to manipulate you, to make you think we cared. You believed everything we said."
"I did," I agreed. "Past tense. But I'm not that person anymore."
"Because of him?" Vivian's gaze swung to Adrian with pure venom. "Because some billionaire gave you a backbone?"
"No. Because I gave myself one." I held her gaze steadily. "You lose, Vivian. You and Ethan and your mother. You all lose. And I get to watch."
"This isn't over.."
"Yes, it is." Adrian's voice was soft, lethal. "Security is escorting you out now. If you come near Sophia again, if you contact her, if you so much as think about her too hard, I will personally ensure you spend the rest of your life in prison. Do we understand each other?"
Vivian looked between us, and for the first time, I saw real fear in her eyes.
"You'll regret this," she spat at me.
"No," I said quietly. "I really won't."
Security led her away, still screaming threats and curses. The lobby slowly returned to normal, conversations resuming.
Adrian turned to me. "Are you okay?"
"Actually?" I laughed, surprised by the lightness in my chest. "I am. I really am."
He smiled that rare, genuine smile that transformed his whole face. "Good. Now let's get out of here. We have a wedding to plan."
As we walked out together, his hand in mine, I realized something.
For the first time in two lifetimes, I was truly free.
Free from Ethan, from Vivian, from the weight of being the naive girl everyone could use.
And it felt incredible.