Chapter 2 - THE WEDDING GIFTFor several seconds, nobody moved.
His bride was still wearing her wedding dress.
Julian Cross still had a white rose pinned to his tuxedo.
And the first thing he put in front of me was not a gift for his child.
It was an NDA.
“Sign it, Mara.”
I stared at the thick packet on my blanket.
My daughter, Ivy, shifted against my chest, making the smallest sound I had ever heard. Her pink-striped hospital blanket was tucked beneath her chin. One tiny fist rested against my collarbone.
I had been in labor for eighteen hours.
I was exhausted, sore, frightened, and happier than I had believed I was still capable of being.
Julian looked irritated that I wasn't reaching for the pen.
Behind him, Vanessa Hale stood near the door in a fitted white wedding gown, her veil trailing across the hospital floor.
Her eyes were red.
Not from crying.
From anger.
“This doesn't need to become difficult,” Julian said.
I laughed once.
The sound surprised even me.
“You left your wedding reception to bring legal paperwork to the woman who just delivered your daughter.”
Vanessa flinched.
Julian's jaw tightened.
“We discussed this.”
“No. You sent your lawyer three emails. I deleted them.”
His expression changed.
For three years, I had known every version of Julian's face.
The charming smile.
The concerned husband.
The wounded victim.
The successful businessman.
And underneath all of them, the cold expression he wore whenever something stopped obeying him.
That was the face staring at me now.
He pushed the papers closer.
“The agreement protects everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“You don't discuss our marriage. You don't discuss the circumstances surrounding the divorce. You don't discuss Crosswell Holdings, my finances, Vanessa, the pregnancy, or anything you may believe you know about my business dealings.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“The pregnancy?”
Julian ignored her.
My fingers tightened around Ivy.
“And in exchange?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
I looked up.
Vanessa's mouth opened slightly.
Apparently that number was new to her too.
“You're offering me money to stay silent?”
“I am offering financial security for the child.”
“The child has a name.”
Julian glanced at Ivy as though remembering she existed.
Then he said, “Mara, don't make this emotional.”
Something inside me went wonderfully still.
I had spent five years allowing that sentence to control me.
Whenever I questioned a missing bank statement, I was emotional.
Whenever I caught him lying, I was emotional.
Whenever he disappeared until two in the morning, I was insecure.
Whenever I discovered Vanessa's messages, I was jealous.
Whenever I asked why money from my father's estate had been transferred into Crosswell accounts, I was confused.
Then Julian filed for divorce while I was pregnant.
He called it “a clean break.”
Apparently his definition of clean included marrying Vanessa before my stitches had even stopped hurting.
I looked at the final page of the NDA.
Then I saw something.
A paragraph buried above the signature line.
I smiled.
Julian noticed.
“What?”
“You're nervous.”
“I am not nervous.”
“Yes, you are.”
Vanessa looked between us.
“Mara, just sign it,” she said. “Julian and I want to start our marriage without drama.”
I looked at her wedding gown.
“You came into my maternity room forty minutes after I delivered a baby and you're asking me to avoid drama?”
Her cheeks reddened.
Julian stepped closer.
“Enough.”
I reached toward the bed rail.
His face relaxed, probably because he thought I was reaching for the pen.
Instead, I pressed the call button.
Julian frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my nurse.”
“For what?”
I looked directly at Vanessa.
“To ask whether the two men waiting outside can come in.”
Silence.
Julian stopped breathing for half a second.
Vanessa noticed.
“What men?”
I didn't answer immediately.
I wanted her watching Julian when I said it.
“Detective Mateo Alvarez from the financial crimes unit,” I said, “and Samuel Kane, the forensic accountant handling my father's estate.”
Vanessa slowly turned toward her husband.
Julian's face had drained white.
“Mara.”
There it was.
Not anger.
Fear.
I continued.
“They've been waiting since before Ivy was born.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“Why would a financial crimes detective be here?”
Julian moved toward the door.
I said one more sentence.
And that was the sentence that destroyed his wedding day.
“Because the two hundred thousand dollars Julian just offered me came from an account containing money stolen from my father's trust.”
Vanessa's eyes widened.
“What?”
“Mara is medicated,” Julian snapped. “She doesn't know what she's saying.”
“I know exactly what I'm saying.”
The door opened.
My nurse entered first.
Behind her came two men.
Detective Alvarez wore a dark suit and carried a folder.
Samuel Kane carried a sealed evidence envelope.
Julian backed away from my bed.
Vanessa looked at the envelope.
Then at Julian.
Then at me.
Samuel removed a stack of bank records.
“Mrs. Cross,” he said quietly, “we confirmed the final transfer this morning.”
“Former Mrs. Cross,” I corrected.
His eyes flicked toward Vanessa's wedding dress.
“Right.”
Julian took another step backward.
Vanessa grabbed his sleeve.
“What transfer?”
Nobody answered her.
Samuel looked at me.
“You were right about the signatures.”
Julian whispered, “Don't.”
I felt Ivy breathe against me.
For months, Julian had believed pregnancy made me weak.
Divorce made me desperate.
Giving birth would make me helpless.
He had miscalculated all three.
I looked at Vanessa.
“The signatures transferring eleven million dollars out of my father's trust weren't mine.”
Her hand slipped from Julian's sleeve.
“And,” I said, watching her new husband's face collapse, “one of the accounts receiving that money was opened in Vanessa Hale's name.”
Vanessa stared at Julian.
Her voice came out barely louder than a whisper.
“You put stolen money in my name?”
Julian said nothing.
May you like
Detective Alvarez closed the hospital-room door.
And locked it.
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