Chapter 2: The Truth Beneath the Marble
By the time I arrived at my father’s estate, I was wrapped in warmth again—dry clothes, soft blankets, quiet power.
He stood in his study, exactly as I remembered: tall, composed, unstoppable.
“You waited too long,” he said, not unkindly.
“I wanted to believe my marriage was real,” I replied.
“And now?”
I met his eyes. “Now I want everything he stole from me.”
A faint smile appeared. “Good.”
He tapped his desk once.
Across the city, legal teams moved. Bank accounts froze. Ownership records resurfaced.
“You see, Claire,” he continued, “that mansion was never Adrian’s.”
I frowned. “What?”
“It was placed under his name… temporarily. A test. One he has just failed spectacularly.”
My breath caught.
“The land, the structure, the assets—everything traces back to our family holdings. He built his empire on borrowed ground.”
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“And tonight?”
My father’s voice was cold steel. “Tonight, we reclaim it.”
