Chapter 5
Twenty-three names.
That was how many people had touched the White Table over fifteen years.
Some were dead.
Some gone.
Some still inside my organization.
Four were in the ballroom.
Two removed their family pins before I said a word.
The other two waited.
Bad decision.
Rafe positioned men behind them.
I kept reading.
Most names were expected.
Old loyalists.
Men nostalgic for my father.
Then I reached one that was not.
Adrian Cross.
Marcella’s groom.
His name first appeared on the list three years earlier.
Before Elena died.
I looked toward the stairs.
“Bring him down.”
Nobody spoke while we waited.
Marcella tried.
“Nico, the wedding has nothing to do with Elena.”
I stared at the screen.
“Her folder is literally called THE WEDDING.”
Marcella went quiet.
Adrian entered minutes later in a dark formal suit, confusion already changing to calculation as he saw the laptop, Marcella’s face, and Vivia’s torn dress.
He stopped.
“What happened?”
I turned the screen toward him.
His own name stared back.
Adrian looked at Marcella.
Not me.
That told me everything.
“You knew about the USB?” I asked.
“No.”
“Did you know Elena had evidence?”
His hesitation was small.
Enough.
Marcella whispered, “Adrian.”
He snapped:
“Don’t.”
The wedding cracked right there.
Not from romance.
From self-preservation.
Adrian told me he knew Elena had discovered the White Table. Marcella assured him everything had been handled.
I looked at my sister.
“Handled.”
She shook her head.
“I never said hurt.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“No. You said she wouldn’t interfere again.”
Marcella went pale.
I turned to him.
“When?”
“Before the crash.”
Vivia moved closer to Rafe.
I hated that she heard the word.
I hated more that adults had forced it into her childhood.
“What crash?” I asked, although we all knew.
Adrian answered.
“Elena’s.”
The ballroom went silent enough for me to hear the refrigeration unit behind the wedding cake.
Marcella stared at Adrian like she wanted to kill him.
He continued anyway.
“She told me Elena was leaving the estate that night to meet someone. Marcella wanted her followed.”
My voice stayed low.
“Who followed her?”
Adrian looked at Marcella.
She did not answer.
Then Rafe spoke behind me.
“I know.”
I turned.
May you like
My head of security looked sick.
And suddenly the next betrayal came from the one man I had not prepared myself to question.
