Chapter 4 - The Unraveling
For three agonizing seconds, the only sound in the room was the heavy, ragged breathing of the man who was supposed to be six feet under.
Marcus backed away toward the corner of the suite, his hands raised defensively as if he were facing a wild animal. "Meredith... look, let's not do anything rash. You don't understand—"
"Shut up, Marcus," I said without even looking at him, my eyes locked entirely on Adrian. Every step I took toward the dressing table felt like walking on broken glass, but I didn't flinch. I closed the distance between us until I was standing less than two feet away from him.
Up close, the illusion of the grieving widow vanished entirely. I could smell his cologne—the exact same Tom Ford scent I had bought him for our fifth anniversary.
"Meredith, please," Adrian whispered, his sophisticated composure completely shattered. He reached out a trembling hand, as if to touch my shoulder. "How... how did you find me? What are you doing here?"
I slapped his hand away with a sharp, stinging crack that left a red mark across his wrist. He flinched, pulling his arm back against his chest.
"I’m working, Adrian," I replied, my voice dripping with cold sarcasm. "Remember? I’m the florist. Your mother hired the best local shop in the county to handle your little brother's wedding—ironic, isn't it? She always did appreciate my eye for color."
Adrian swallowed hard, his throat bobbing frantically. "Meredith, listen to me. This wasn't... it wasn't personal. My family was drowning. The federal audit—if they had connected my accounts to the offshore holdings, I would have gone to prison for ten years. Faking the crash was the only way out. My mother... she helped me orchestrate the whole thing. The body in the car belonged to an unclaimed John Doe from the county morgue that the fixer procured. We had to make it convincing."
"You let me grieve," I said softly, the quiet deadliness in my tone making him shrink back further against the wooden bureau. "You let me stand at a gravesite in the freezing rain. You let me hold your mother’s hand while she fake-cried over a box of ashes. You let me spend every single night wondering what I could have done differently to save you."
"I saved you, too!" Adrian blurted out, panic cracking his voice. "If you had been tied to me when the federal indictments dropped, you would have lost the flower shop, your apartment, your credit rating, everything! By cutting you loose, I gave you a clean slate!"
"Oh, how charitable of you," I murmured, stepping closer still. "You sacrificed yourself for my own good. What a noble martyr."
"Meredith—"
"Who’s the bride, Adrian?" I interrupted, tilting my head. "Is it Victoria Sterling? The shipping magnate’s daughter? Is that why you needed a clean slate and a fresh multimillion-dollar trust fund? To trade up from the girl who scraped by running a flower shop to high society?"
Adrian’s silence was all the confirmation I needed. The guilty panic in his eyes told me everything. Victoria Sterling—the woman whose family accounts had bailed out his father's failing corporation just two weeks ago. It was a business merger disguised as a wedding.
"You're a monster," I whispered.
"Meredith, please... don't ruin this," Adrian begged, his voice dropping to a desperate plea. "If you make a scene out there, my life is over. Victoria’s father will destroy me. The wedding is in ten minutes. Just... just take whatever you want. Name your price. I can wire you fifty thousand dollars from my offshore account by tonight. Just walk out of here, keep your mouth shut, and let the ceremony happen."
I stared at him. Fifty thousand dollars. To buy my silence. To sweep my three months of agonizing grief under the rug like a spilled cup of coffee.
May you like
A cold, humorless laugh slipped past my lips.
"Keep your money, Adrian," I said, turning on my heel toward the door. "You're going to need every penny for your divorce. Because the show is about to begin."
