For several seconds, nobody moved. Rainwater ticked from the roof of the covered walkway behind Derek, and somewhere inside the stable a horse stamped against the floor. His phone remained raised in one hand, its camera pointed at Luna and me. Luna’s expression changed first. Whatever uncertainty had followed our kiss vanished behind the cool, unreadable face she wore in board meetings.
“Delete it,” she said.
Derek lowered the phone.
“Why?”
“Because you recorded us without permission.”
“Outside?”
“On private property.”
“Our family’s private property.”
“Mother owns Blackwood.”
“And I’m family.”
Luna stepped away from me. The movement was small, but I felt it as distinctly as if a door had closed.
Derek noticed.
His smile deepened.
“There,” he said. “That’s more interesting than the kiss.”
“What is?” I asked.
“The way you two behave when you remember someone is watching.”
I could have denied it. Instead, I walked toward him.
“Give her the phone.”
Derek looked at me as though I had suddenly become mildly entertaining.
“Careful, Adam.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And apparently you ignored me.”
“I’m developing the habit.”
Luna caught my arm before I got closer.
“Don’t.”
Derek’s gaze dropped to her hand on my sleeve.
Everything became evidence around him. A touch. A pause. A badly timed glance.
I understood then why Luna hated being at Blackwood. In her family, nothing was allowed to remain ordinary.
Derek slipped the phone into his pocket.
“You should both relax. I’m not publishing your romantic moment.”
“How generous,” Luna said.
“I’m serious.”
“That would be a first.”
His smile vanished.
Then Eleanor’s voice came from the terrace.
“Derek.”
We turned.
She stood beneath the awning, one hand around a coffee cup.
“What are you doing?”
“Admiring the newlyweds.”
“You were filming them.”
Derek shrugged.
“Family memories.”
Eleanor walked toward us.
There was nothing dramatic about her movement, yet Derek’s posture changed.
“Give me the phone.”
“Mother.”
“Now.”
He looked at Luna.
Then me.
Finally he removed the phone and handed it over.
Eleanor tapped the screen.
“Unlock it.”
Derek exhaled.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“And you are thirty-six years old, recording your sister kissing her husband from behind a building. One of us has earned the right to be ridiculous.”
I almost smiled.
Derek entered his code.
Eleanor deleted the video, opened the recently deleted folder, and removed it there too.
“There.”
She returned the phone.
Derek’s face had hardened.
“Happy?”
“No. But less embarrassed by you.”
He walked away without another word.
Eleanor watched until he disappeared inside.
Then she turned to Luna.
“I apologize.”
“You don’t have to apologize for him.”
“I have been doing it for most of his life. The habit is difficult to break.”
Luna glanced at me.
Eleanor noticed that too.
Unlike Derek, she did not seem interested in turning the glance into evidence.
She merely said, “Lunch is at one,” and returned toward the house.
The moment she was gone, Luna started walking toward the stables.
I followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from the house.”
“Good plan.”
She stopped beside an empty paddock.
“Adam.”
The tone told me what was coming.
“We need to discuss what happened.”
“The recording?”
“The kiss.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“I thought we agreed it wouldn’t happen again.”
“We said that while standing six inches apart.”
“That weakened the credibility.”
“This is serious.”
“I know.”
Her eyes searched my face.
“We cannot confuse the arrangement.”
“I’m not confused.”
“Then what was that?”
I could have made it easy for her.
Stress.
Performance.
Adrenaline.
Instead I said, “I wanted to kiss you.”
She looked away.
“And when you kissed me back?”
Her voice dropped.
“I wanted to.”
There it was.
Small.
Dangerous.
True.
The wind moved through the wet trees.
I said, “That doesn’t mean we have to turn it into something.”
“Good.”
“But pretending it didn’t happen seems equally stupid.”
She folded her arms.
“What do you suggest?”
“That we admit we’re attracted to each other and do absolutely nothing about it.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“That is your solution?”
“It’s terrible, but it’s honest.”
To my surprise, she laughed softly.
“You make terrible plans with impressive confidence.”
“You married one.”
The laughter faded, leaving something warmer behind.
Then her phone rang.
Victor.
Whatever softness had entered her face disappeared.
She answered.
I watched her listen.
“What did you find?”
Her gaze shifted toward the house.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Send it securely.”
She ended the call.
“What?”
“The cameras in my penthouse.”
My stomach tightened.
“Derek?”
“We still can’t prove who installed them.”
“But?”
“One of the devices transmitted through a server owned by a private security consultancy.”
“That sounds useful.”
“It is.”
“Whose consultancy?”
“Someone who used to work for Sterling.”
She started toward the house.
I followed.
“Who?”
“Graham Voss.”
The name meant nothing to me.
Luna noticed.
“He was my father’s director of security.”
“Was?”
“My father fired him six months before he died.”
“Why?”
“He never told me.”
“And now Voss is working with Derek?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you suspect it.”
“Yes.”
Inside, Luna locked us in a small upstairs sitting room and opened the encrypted report Victor had sent.
Voss’s company had rented server capacity matching the transmission route used by the cameras. That alone proved little. Security firms routed data for hundreds of clients.
But Victor had found something else.
Two months earlier, Derek had paid Voss Consulting ninety thousand dollars.
The invoice described the work as “risk assessment.”
“That could mean anything,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You think it means us.”
“I think Derek started preparing before I approached you.”
That chilled me.
“How?”
Luna enlarged the invoice.
“The date.”
I read it.
Eight weeks before her proposal.
“Did Derek know you were looking for someone?”
“No.”
“Then why hire your father’s old security chief?”
“I don’t know.”
A knock sounded.
Luna closed the laptop.
Eleanor entered.
“There you are.”
She looked between us.
“Everything all right?”
“Work,” Luna said.
Eleanor’s mouth tightened.
“You came here for one weekend.”
“I know.”
“Your father used that answer too.”
Luna stiffened.
Eleanor regretted the sentence immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re right.”
Her mother glanced at me.
“Adam, would you give us a minute?”
“Of course.”
I headed for the door.
Luna touched my wrist.
“Stay.”
Eleanor looked at her daughter’s hand.
Again, no judgment.
Just recognition.
“All right,” she said.
She sat opposite us.
“There is something you need to know.”
Luna went still.
“About what?”
“Your father’s trust.”
Luna’s eyes narrowed.
“What about it?”
“Derek has been asking questions.”
“That is hardly new.”
“Different questions.”
Eleanor clasped her hands.
“He asked whether your father ever discussed the marriage provision with me before signing the final trust.”
Luna leaned forward.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
The room changed.
“What did he say?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“That the provision was not intended to force you to marry.”
Luna stared at her.
“Then why put it there?”
“Because he was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Derek.”
Silence.
Even the rain seemed quieter.
Eleanor continued.
“Your father believed Derek was becoming increasingly obsessed with controlling the company. He worried that if something happened to him, you would have nobody whose interests were legally aligned with yours.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I told him the same.”
“He could have written protections directly into the trust.”
“He did.”
“What protections?”
Eleanor looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know all of them.”
Luna stood.
“You knew about this for three years?”
“I knew he changed the trust. I did not know the final language.”
“Mother.”
“He stopped discussing company matters with me toward the end.”
“Why?”
Eleanor’s gaze moved toward the windows.
“Because he had begun to suspect someone close to him was leaking information.”
I felt Luna go rigid beside me.
“Derek?”
“He never named anyone.”
“But you think it was Derek.”
“I think your father feared what Derek was becoming.”
Luna paced once across the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were grieving. Then you took control of Sterling. Then every conversation between you and your brother became a battle.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No. It is an excuse.”
Luna stopped.
Eleanor looked at her daughter.
“There is something else.”
Of course there was.
“Your father kept a private archive.”
“What archive?”
“Records. Correspondence. Notes about the company.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Luna stared at her.
“He told me that if the family ever reached a point where trust became impossible, the archive would explain why he made certain decisions.”
“And you never looked for it?”
“I did.”
“Did Derek?”
“I believe he still is.”
The pieces began rearranging themselves.
Derek’s obsession with the trust.
Voss.
The cameras.
The altered access records.
I said, “What if the marriage isn’t the only thing he’s trying to prove?”
Both women looked at me.
“What do you mean?” Luna asked.
“What if he thinks being close to you gives me access to something your father left?”
Luna’s expression changed.
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed.
Naomi.
Luna read the message.
Then read it again.
“What?” I asked.
She handed me the phone.
Naomi had sent a photograph from Sterling headquarters.
Someone had broken into Luna’s office.
Nothing obvious had been stolen.
Except one thing.
The framed photograph of her father that had sat behind her desk for years.
Beneath Naomi’s message was another.
Security found this under the frame.
A second photograph showed a small handwritten note.
Three words.
Ask your husband.
I looked at Luna.
“I have never met your father.”
“I know.”
“Then why would someone write that?”
Her face had gone pale.
“I don’t know.”
But something in her eyes told me she was no longer certain.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: A Message Left Beneath Her Father’s Photograph Forced Luna to Question Why I Had Really Been Chosen for the Marriage
The Morning My Boss Closed Her Office Door, Opened a File About My Life, and Made an Impossible Offer
Part 5 of 26
