Chapter 4 - The Bride Who Knew Too MuchI met Fiona the next morning.
Not at her parents' house.
Not at a café.
At an empty hotel conference room.
She was already waiting.
No designer gown.
No makeup artist.
No jewelry.
Just a gray sweater and red eyes.
For the first time, she looked human.
“Blake.”
I stayed standing.
“What don't I know?”
She swallowed.
“My family knew about your father.”
“I already know.”
“No. You don't.”
She reached into her bag.
Then placed a small envelope on the table.
Inside were photocopies.
Bank transfers.
Emails.
Boardroom notes.
I recognized my father's company logo.
“What is this?”
Fiona looked terrified.
“My father ordered me to get close to you.”
I didn't react.
“He told me your father was wealthy,” she continued. “He didn't tell me how wealthy.”
“And you agreed?”
“At first.”
The room felt colder.
“You dated me because your father asked you to?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
I laughed quietly.
That answer hurt more than I expected.
“How long?”
“Four months.”
“And after that?”
She looked at me.
“I loved you.”
I stared at her.
“I don't know.”
She reached across the table.
I stepped away.
“Don't.”
“Blake, please.”
“What did you know about the trust?”
“Only that there was a Henderson inheritance.”
“Did you know marriage triggered access?”
“Yes.”
The silence between us became unbearable.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because my father threatened me.”
“With what?”
“He said he'd destroy my younger brother.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“My brother had a gambling debt. My father used it to control him.”
I sat down.
Not because I forgave her.
Because my legs suddenly felt weak.
Fiona started crying.
“I should have left.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you stay?”
She looked down.
“Because every time I tried, he reminded me what would happen.”
I studied her face.
For the first time, I wondered whether Fiona was another victim.
Then I remembered her laughing.
My father standing alone.
Five hundred people watching.
“You still laughed.”
She covered her mouth.
“I was scared.”
“You were laughing.”
“I panicked.”
“You embarrassed him.”
“I know.”
I stood.
“That's what makes everything worse.”
I started toward the door.
She grabbed my sleeve.
“Blake, wait.”
I turned.
“There is one thing I haven't told you.”
“What?”
Her hand trembled.
“My father is planning something.”
“What?”
“He isn't worried about losing the wedding.”
“Then what is he worried about?”
She stared at me.
“He's worried your father will activate the Meridian clause.”
I frowned.
“What clause?”
“Control clause.”
My blood ran cold.
“Explain.”
“He told me the moment your father publicly declares you his successor, every bank, creditor and investor connected to our family will automatically review their agreements.”
“What does that have to do with my father?”
“Everything.”
She whispered,
“Your father has enough voting power to take control of Martinez Capital without spending a single dollar.”
I stared at her.
“That's impossible.”
“He owns the debt.”
My heart stopped.
George had spent years building a financial empire.
But underneath that empire was borrowed money.
Money controlled by my father.
And George had no idea I knew.
Fiona reached into her bag again.
She removed a flash drive.
“My father doesn't know I have this.”
“What is it?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
She looked at the door.
“Why my father needed you to marry me.”
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Two security men stepped inside.
Behind them stood George Martinez.
He wasn't shouting.
He wasn't angry.
He was smiling.
“Blake,” he said.
Then he looked at his daughter.
“Thank you, Fiona.”
Her face went white.
George pointed at the flash drive.
“Now give it to me.”
Fiona didn't move.
May you like
George's smile disappeared.
“Or your brother goes to prison tonight.”
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