Chapter 6 - Marcus’s Last Move
Four months after his arrest, Marcus requested to see me.
I refused.
He requested again.
I refused again.
Then my attorney called.
“He says he has information about your father.”
That got my attention.
My father had died eight years earlier.
Marcus and I married the following year.
I agreed to one meeting.
Marcus sat behind reinforced glass in a federal detention center.
He looked smaller without tailored suits and men waiting for his instructions.
He picked up the phone.
“So you came.”
“Talk.”
“No hello?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“You've changed.”
“I stopped asking permission.”
His smile faded.
“You're sleeping with Cole?”
“None of your business.”
“That means yes.”
“It means none of your business.”
His fingers tightened around the phone.
There was the Marcus I remembered.
Always calm until denied ownership.
“You think Ethan is different from me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He knows the word no.”
Marcus stared at me.
Then laughed.
“I missed that mouth.”
“I don't miss anything about you.”
That landed.
He leaned closer.
“Your father knew what I was.”
“I assumed.”
“He tried to stop our wedding.”
My pulse changed.
“What?”
“He offered me money to disappear.”
“That sounds like him.”
“I refused.”
“Touching.”
Marcus's smile vanished.
“He also changed your trust.”
I stared at him.
“How?”
“If you died without children, control of the family foundation would pass outside the Whitmore line.”
I understood.
Marcus hadn't merely wanted my assets.
He needed to move them before my death.
That was why the fraudulent transfers existed.
“You needed me alive long enough to sign everything.”
“Yes.”
“And when I wouldn't?”
“You became inconvenient.”
He said it without remorse.
Something inside me finally became completely still.
Not broken.
Finished.
“You brought me here to tell me that?”
“No.”
Marcus leaned closer to the glass.
“I brought you here because I wanted to see whether you still hated me.”
“And?”
“You don't.”
“No.”
That frightened him.
I could see it.
Hatred would have meant he still occupied space inside me.
He didn't.
Marcus whispered, “Evelyn.”
I stood.
“You were right about one thing.”
“What?”
“Coming home early was a mistake.”
He smiled.
Then I finished.
“Yours.”
I put down the phone.
Marcus slammed his palm against the glass.
I didn't turn around.
Outside, Ethan waited beside his car.
He straightened when he saw me.
“How did it go?”
“I think my marriage is officially over.”
“You needed prison glass to establish that?”
“I like certainty.”
He opened the passenger door.
I stopped.
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“I don't need you to protect me anymore.”
His expression became careful.
“I know.”
“Good.”
I stepped closer.
“But I might occasionally want you around.”
“How occasionally?”
“Dinner.”
“I can manage dinner.”
“Breakfast.”
His eyebrow lifted.
I immediately pointed at him.
“Don't ruin it.”
He laughed.
I got into the car.
He closed the door.
May you like
And for once, the man beside me wasn't deciding where my life would go.
He was simply coming along for the ride.
