Chapter 6
The contract concerned marriage.
Mine.
I laughed when Marcus said it.
I had been nineteen when my father died.
Marriage nowhere near discussion.
Apparently that did not stop older families planning.
Alistair Ashford and Eleanor Cross had signed a private agreement years earlier.
One day, if circumstances aligned, an Ashford heir would marry into Cross.
Not binding.
Not legal.
Family expectation.
Old politics.
Then Alistair changed his mind.
Why?
Because he learned Gideon had been using family engagements to secure financial control over allied houses.
Not Vivienne.
She was a child then.
Her uncle.
Alistair decided no future Ashford marriage would be negotiated through Cross.
He and Eleanor burned the agreement together.
The photograph proved Eleanor supported him.
That mattered.
Because after Alistair died, Gideon spent years telling his family the opposite.
He claimed Alistair still wanted Ashford-Cross joined.
So when Vivienne and I met as adults and actually fell in love—
Gideon saw destiny.
Not coincidence.
He resurrected a dead arrangement.
I looked at Vivienne.
“Did you know?”
Her face crumpled.
“Not until the safe.”
Her mother’s letter told her the marriage agreement had been destroyed.
That should have freed her.
Instead Gideon convinced her it meant something had gone wrong between the families.
Something that needed repairing.
Through us.
I almost laughed at the tragedy.
Our relationship had been real.
Then they wrapped old politics around it until neither of us could tell where love ended and strategy began.
“What did the photograph prove about Marcus?”
Marcus answered.
“He took it.”
I stared.
He photographed Alistair and Eleanor burning the contract.
Why?
Because my father asked him.
Documentation.
Insurance against future lies.
Then the photograph disappeared into the watch compartment.
Only Marcus and Evan Brooks knew.
After Alistair died, Marcus retrieved it before Eleanor stole the watch.
“You had it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Still do.”
My pulse slowed.
“Why never tell me?”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“Because once Eleanor died, I thought the old fight died too.”
Wrong.
May you like
Secrets do not die.
They ferment.
