Chapter 2 - THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPHI stared at the photograph for nearly a minute.
The room had gone strangely quiet.
Even Vanessa had stopped breathing heavily.
The photograph showed my father standing outside a private hospital.
Beside him stood the same man I had seen in the earlier picture.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
A scar across his left cheek.
And wearing an expensive watch.
I recognized the face.
Not because I knew the man.
Because Adrian did.
“Who is he?” I asked.
Adrian said nothing.
“Adrian.”
His eyes remained fixed on the photograph.
“He was supposed to be dead.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He swallowed.
“His name was Marcus Vale.”
I frowned.
“Vale?”
Adrian looked at me.
“My father's brother.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“You told me your father was an only child.”
“He was.”
“Then why are you saying—”
“Because Marcus wasn't supposed to exist.”
Vanessa looked between us.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian ignored her.
“He disappeared before I was born.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
His jaw clenched.
I stepped toward him.
“You know something.”
Adrian looked away.
“My father told me never to ask.”
“About Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because people who asked questions about him disappeared.”
Nobody spoke.
The lawyer quietly closed the door.
I looked down at the envelope.
There was another sheet inside.
A list.
Names.
Companies.
Dates.
Bank transfers.
I recognized half of the companies.
They were all connected to Adrian's business empire.
But one company appeared over and over.
Northstar Holdings.
I looked at the lawyer.
“What is this?”
“Your father wants you to review it before midnight.”
“Why?”
“He believes Adrian has been using your husband's company to move money through Northstar.”
Adrian snapped.
“That's absurd.”
The lawyer looked at him.
“Then you'll have no objection to an audit.”
Adrian went silent.
Vanessa grabbed his arm.
“Tell them they're wrong.”
He didn't.
That was answer enough.
I stared at the transaction history.
Millions.
Millions that had disappeared through shell companies.
Some transfers had been made from accounts I had never seen.
But one name kept appearing.
M.V.
I looked at Adrian.
“Who is M.V.?”
“No one.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
I almost smiled.
That was the problem with Adrian.
Even when cornered, he still thought confidence could replace truth.
My phone buzzed.
A text from my father.
Do not trust Adrian. Do not trust Vanessa. And under no circumstances go to the Blue Room.
I reread it.
The Blue Room.
Our mansion had many rooms.
There was no Blue Room.
I looked up.
“Where is the Blue Room?”
Adrian froze.
Vanessa noticed.
“You know what she means?”
He didn't answer.
I stared at him.
“You know.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“It's just an old name.”
“For what?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Nothing.”
The lawyer suddenly interrupted.
“Mrs. Vale, I suggest we leave this property.”
“Why?”
“Because your father believes you may be in danger.”
I turned toward the staircase.
“I'm not leaving.”
“Why?”
“Because there is something in this house.”
Adrian's face tightened.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“A room you lied to me about.”
His silence confirmed it.
I walked upstairs.
Adrian followed.
“Don't.”
I kept walking.
“Stop.”
I ignored him.
He grabbed my wrist.
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me.”
His expression hardened.
“You have no idea what you're doing.”
“I know exactly what I'm doing.”
I reached the second floor.
There were twelve doors.
I walked toward the end of the hallway.
Adrian followed close behind.
“That's enough.”
I stopped.
There was a painting hanging on the wall.
A landscape.
A dark blue ocean.
I removed it.
Behind it was a keypad.
Adrian went pale.
I turned.
“How does this open?”
He said nothing.
The lawyer looked at him.
“Mr. Vale?”
Adrian whispered:
“Sixteen.”
I entered the code.
The wall opened.
A hidden room appeared.
Inside was a desk.
Boxes.
Documents.
A safe.
And dozens of photographs.
I walked inside.
Then stopped.
Pinned across the far wall were photographs of me.
At weddings.
At galas.
At restaurants.
At home.
Some were taken years before I met Adrian.
I felt cold.
“This isn't possible.”
Adrian's face had gone white.
“I didn't do this.”
I turned toward him.
“Then who did?”
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
A door slammed behind us.
The lawyer shouted.
Security moved instantly.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
Low.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Hello, little Ashford.”
I froze.
That voice.
I had never heard it before.
But somehow, I recognized it.
The lights came back on.
A man stood behind the glass wall.
Scar across his cheek.
Same face.
Same watch.
Marcus Vale.
He smiled at me.
“You finally found the room.”
May you like
Then he looked at Adrian.
“And you finally married the wrong woman.”
