My sister looked me in the eyes and said, "He chose me," after I caught her with my fiancé five months before our wedding—but she had no idea what his older brother was about to do.

The Marston Group occupied the top three floors of a stone-faced building on Commerce Wharf, two minutes from the harbor.

Adrian's driver pulled up to the service entrance.

A security officer was already waiting.

"He's still inside," the officer said as they moved through the lobby.

"Hasn't tried to leave."

"Anyone with him?"

"No, sir.

He came alone."

The elevator was fast and silent.

Emma stood beside Adrian and watched the floor numbers rise.

Her hands were steady.

She noticed that and found it strange.

The records room was on the second Marston floor, behind a frosted glass door with a keypad entry.

A young man in a gray suit stood outside it — one of Adrian's people, Emma assumed — and stepped aside as they approached.

Adrian pressed his palm to the reader.

The door opened.

Cole was standing at a long table in the center of the room, surrounded by open filing boxes.

He had a stack of folders in his hand.

He looked up when the door opened and his face went through three expressions in under a second — surprise, calculation, and then something that settled into a careful blankness.

"Adrian." He set the folders down slowly.

"I can explain—"

"Don't," Adrian said.

Cole's eyes moved to Emma.

Something flickered in them that she couldn't name.

"Emma.

I didn't expect—"

"The folders," Adrian said.

"Step away from the table."

Cole didn't move immediately.

His hand rested on top of the stack.

"I'm allowed to access these files.

My authorization—"

"Your authorization was suspended forty minutes ago when you entered this room without notifying legal." Adrian walked to the table.

He looked at the folders without touching them.

"Delacroix renewal.

Harwick transfer.

The August subsidiary reconciliation." He looked up at his brother.

"You knew exactly what you were looking for."

"I was reviewing files.

That's my job."

"Your job doesn't include removing originals from this room."

"I wasn't removing anything."

"Then why is the Harwick transfer document on top of a pile next to your briefcase?"

Cole's jaw tightened.

He said nothing.

Emma stepped forward.

She hadn't planned to speak yet, but the words came out before she decided on them.

"Tessa is a co-owner of the Delaware company," she said.

"Diane Forsythe traced it."

The careful blankness on Cole's face cracked.

It was only for a moment — a fraction of a second — but Emma had spent three years learning his face, and she saw it.

"That's not—" He stopped.

Started again.

"That's not what it looks like."

"What does it look like?" Emma asked.

"It's a holding structure.

For investment purposes.

It's completely legitimate."

"Then why did you transfer a Marston Group warehouse into it without board authorization?"

"That transfer was within my operational mandate—"

"It was not," Adrian said.

His voice hadn't risen.

It didn't need to.

"I have reviewed every authorization document in this company going back four years.

There is no mandate that covers unilateral property transfer to a private entity in which you hold a financial interest.

You know that."

Cole looked at his brother for a long moment.

Then something changed in him.

The careful blankness gave way to something harder.

"You want to do this here?" he said.

"In front of her?"

"You made your choices in front of her," Adrian said.

"Or did you forget she was supposed to be your wife in three days?"

"This has nothing to do with Emma."

"It has everything to do with Emma." Adrian's voice stayed level.

"You were going to marry her while you were defrauding this company.

While her sister was co-owning the vehicle you were using to do it.

While you were planning to walk away from both of them the moment the structure was complete."

Cole's eyes moved to Emma.

"That's not true."

"Which part?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

"Were you going to leave?" she asked.

"After the wedding.

After whatever you needed the marriage for.

Were you going to leave?"

"Emma—"

"Answer me."

His mouth opened.

Closed.

"I don't know," he said finally.

It was, Emma thought, the most honest thing he had said all day.

And it was the worst possible answer.

"Where does Tessa think this ends?" Emma asked.

"Does she think you're going to be with her?

Does she know she's a name on a document?"

Cole looked away.

"She knows what she agreed to," he said quietly.

"Which was what?"

He said nothing.

Adrian reached across the table and picked up the Harwick transfer document.

He turned it over in his hands once, then set it back down.

"I'm calling our attorneys," he said to Cole.

"Tonight.

You will not remove anything from this building.

You will not contact Diane Forsythe.

You will not access any Marston Group accounts, digital or physical, until this is reviewed." He paused.

"If you attempt to do any of those things, I will call the police before morning."

Cole stared at him.

"You'd do that to your own brother."

"You did this to your own family," Adrian said.

"I'm simply responding to it."

Cole picked up his briefcase from the floor.

His hand was shaking slightly — not much, but enough.

He walked toward the door.

He stopped when he reached Emma.

"I did love you," he said.

"I want you to know that."

Emma looked at him.

"I know," she said.

"That's the part that doesn't help."

He left.

The door closed behind him.

Emma stood in the records room surrounded by open filing boxes and the evidence of a careful, patient betrayal, and felt something inside her go very quiet.

Adrian stood across the table.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"But I will be."

He nodded once.

He didn't tell her she was strong, or that it would get easier, or any of the things people say when they don't know what else to offer.

She was grateful for that.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked at it.

A message from Tessa: *We need to talk.

Please.