CHAPTER 6: SHADOWS IN THE LEDGER
Morning light filtered through the tall glass windows of the penthouse, soft and pale against the polished floors. Ivy woke before the city did, her eyes adjusting slowly to the unfamiliar ceiling above her. For a few seconds she forgot where she was.
Then it all came back.
The contract.
The marriage.
Killian.
She pushed herself upright, drawing the sheets around her as the silence pressed in. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just heavy, like the apartment itself was waiting for something.
Or someone.
Ivy slipped out of bed and padded across the room, the cool floor grounding her. The wardrobe doors were already open, revealing clothes that were far more expensive than anything she had ever owned. Dresses in soft fabrics, tailored blouses, shoes that looked untouched.
He had arranged all of it without asking her.
She should have been annoyed.
Instead, she felt strangely unsettled.
Grabbing something simple, she changed and made her way toward the kitchen. The penthouse was quiet, but the faint sound of a phone call reached her before she entered the space.
Killian stood near the window, his back to her, voice low and sharp.
"…I don't care what he's asking. The deal is finished."
Pause.
"No. You will not contact her again."
Ivy froze.
His tone softened only slightly.
"Handle it."
He ended the call and turned. His expression shifted the moment he saw her, composure sliding back into place like armor.
"You're awake."
She leaned against the counter.
"Was that about me?"
He didn't answer immediately. He poured coffee, calm and deliberate.
"You'll be meeting someone today," he said.
Ivy blinked.
"That's not an answer."
Killian handed her a cup.
"It's related."
She frowned.
"You really love speaking in riddles."
"And you really love pushing boundaries."
A brief silence passed between them. Not hostile. Just tense.
Finally she sighed.
"Who am I meeting?"
"My legal advisor. She'll explain certain protections regarding the contract."
Ivy stared at him.
"Protections… for who?"
"For you."
That surprised her more than she wanted to admit.
Killian grabbed his jacket.
"We leave in thirty minutes."
The car ride downtown was quiet. Ivy watched the streets blur past, her mind circling questions she couldn't quite shape. Killian worked on his phone the entire time, focused, distant.
He looked untouchable like this.
Like nothing could shake him.
The building they entered screamed power. Marble floors, quiet hallways, people who moved with purpose. Ivy followed him into an office where a woman with silver framed glasses greeted them.
"Ivy St. Claire," she said warmly.
"I'm Meredith Hale."
They sat, and Meredith opened a folder.
"This meeting is to ensure you understand your legal standing," she began. "You have independent financial protection, residential rights, and exit clauses."
Ivy's head tilted.
"Exit clauses?"
Killian shifted slightly but didn't interrupt.
Meredith continued.
"You are not trapped in this agreement. Should you choose to terminate the marriage under specific conditions, provisions are already in place."
Ivy looked between them.
"You're saying I could walk away?"
"Yes."
Her chest tightened. She hadn't expected that. Somewhere along the way she had convinced herself this was permanent, sealed.
She glanced at Killian.
"Why?"
His gaze met hers, steady.
"Because control is worthless if it removes choice."
That answer lingered with her long after the meeting ended.
Later that evening, Ivy wandered through one of the quieter rooms in the penthouse. Killian had returned to work calls, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
And curiosity.
She found herself near his office again. The door wasn't fully closed this time.
Inside, the desk lamp cast warm light across organized stacks of documents. Ivy hesitated.
Then stepped in.
She wasn't snooping, she told herself.
Just looking.
Her eyes drifted toward the drawer where she had seen the ledger before.
Her pulse picked up.
Slowly, carefully, she opened it.
The book lay exactly where she remembered.
She flipped through pages filled with names, dates, coded notes. Most meant nothing to her. Until one entry stopped her cold.
St. Claire Holdings
Settlement transferred
Her breath hitched.
Her last name.
Hands trembling, she turned the page. There wasn't much detail, only a number and a timestamp. But it was enough to send questions crashing into her mind.
What settlement?
Why was her family name in Killian's records?
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Ivy shoved the ledger back and closed the drawer just as Killian entered.
Their eyes locked.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then he glanced at the desk, then back at her.
"You're looking for answers."
It wasn't anger in his voice. Just certainty.
Ivy straightened.
"My name is in your records."
His expression darkened slightly.
"Some things are complicated."
"That's not good enough."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally he stepped closer.
"Your father owed people more than money, Ivy."
Her heart pounded.
"What does that mean?"
Killian's voice lowered.
"It means this arrangement didn't begin the day you signed that contract."
The words landed like a blow.
She stared at him.
"You knew about me before we met."
He didn't deny it.
"I ensured you were protected."
"Protected?" she whispered.
"Or positioned?"
That hit something. His jaw tightened.
"You're not a pawn."
"Then stop treating me like one!"
Emotion cracked through the space between them. Raw and real.
Ivy turned away, trying to steady herself.
"You should have told me."
Killian's voice softened behind her.
"I will."
She faced him again.
"When?"
A pause.
"Soon."
It wasn't the answer she wanted. But it was something.
And strangely, she believed him.
That night Ivy lay awake long after the lights dimmed. The city glowed outside the windows, alive and distant.
Her name in the ledger.
Her father's secrets.
Killian's involvement long before their marriage.
Nothing about her life felt simple anymore.
But one truth settled deep in her chest.
This wasn't just a contract.
It never had been.
And somewhere beneath the secrets and control and distance, something far more dangerous was beginning to grow between them.
Trust.
Or something dangerously close to it.