Chapter 2 - What Happened at the Chapel
“I didn’t steal anything.”
Graham stared at me.
“You did.”
“I would remember stealing something.”
“You were completely sober when you did it.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
He pulled out a chair.
“Sit down.”
“I’m tired of you ordering me around.”
“Then consider it a request.”
I remained standing.
“Talk.”
Graham glanced at the clock again.
5:28.
“Last night, after we discovered your room had been searched, you remembered something from the client dinner.”
My memory stirred.
Victor.
He had appeared unexpectedly at the rooftop restaurant.
He had congratulated Graham.
Then hugged me.
No.
Not hugged.
Bumped into me.
And something had landed inside my purse.
I looked toward my handbag on the couch.
Graham followed my gaze.
“You found a flash drive.”
I whispered, “Oh my God.”
The memory returned.
I had discovered it in the elevator.
Black.
Tiny.
No markings.
“I thought Victor dropped it.”
“You tried to return it.”
“And you stopped me.”
“Yes.”
I remembered Graham grabbing my wrist.
Don’t.
Then taking the drive from my hand.
“What was on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I couldn’t access it. It’s encrypted.”
“Then why does Victor want it so badly?”
“Because he believes you saw what was on it.”
I folded my arms.
“And where is it now?”
“I don’t know.”
I laughed.
“That’s convenient.”
“You hid it.”
“I did?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“You refused to tell me.”
“That actually sounds like me.”
“It was extremely irritating.”
Despite everything, I stared at him.
“Did you just make a joke?”
“No.”
“That was definitely a joke.”
“Avery.”
“Fine. Continue.”
Graham explained.
After finding the drive, hotel security had confirmed someone entered my room using a cloned employee keycard.
Then Graham received a call.
Victor.
He knew about the drive.
And he made a threat.
Not against Graham.
Against me.
“You brought me here.”
“Yes.”
“Then we got married.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Graham hesitated.
That hesitation scared me more than anything else.
“Because of my grandfather.”
“What about him?”
“Walter Reed founded the company sixty years ago. He distrusted almost everyone in the family, including his sons.”
“Smart man.”
Graham ignored that.
“When he died, voting control was divided between several trusts. My father controlled the largest portion until his death. Those shares transferred to me conditionally.”
“What condition?”
“That I marry before my thirty-sixth birthday.”
I stared.
“You’re kidding.”
“My grandfather had strange ideas about stability.”
“When is your thirty-sixth birthday?”
“Today.”
I blinked.
“Of course it is.”
“At 6:03 this morning, the exact time of my birth, the condition expires.”
“And if you’re unmarried?”
“My voting shares transfer temporarily to the family trust.”
“Controlled by Victor.”
“Yes.”
The clock read 5:34.
“So you needed a wife.”
“I needed someone I trusted.”
“And apparently your executive project director was available?”
His eyes held mine.
“You were the only person in Las Vegas I trusted.”
The answer landed harder than I expected.
I pushed it aside.
“How did you convince me?”
“I told you everything.”
“And I agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Drunk?”
“No.”
He crossed the room and unlocked the hotel safe.
Inside was a phone.
He opened a video.
There I was.
Still wearing my black dress.
Hair messy.
Eyes completely clear.
Beside me stood Graham and a woman wearing a chapel employee badge.
Video-Avery looked straight into the camera.
“If tomorrow morning I accuse Graham Reed of kidnapping me, remind me that I’m dramatic when sleep deprived.”
My jaw dropped.
Video-Graham sighed.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
“This could become public.”
“I know.”
“You could lose your job.”
“Then you’d better give me a ridiculous severance package.”
The chapel employee laughed.
Video-Avery became serious.
“Victor thinks I have the drive. If Graham loses the voting shares tomorrow, Victor controls the company and can bury whatever evidence is on it. So we get married tonight, Graham keeps control, and tomorrow we find out what Victor is hiding.”
The video ended.
I stared at the phone.
“I really said that?”
“You also demanded separate rooms.”
I looked around.
“We’re in the same room.”
“You refused to sleep alone after the break-in.”
My face warmed.
“And the clothes?”
“You spilled champagne on yourself.”
“The mark on my neck?”
“You walked into the bathroom door.”
I covered my face.
“Please stop.”
“You asked.”
I peeked through my fingers.
“And nothing happened between us?”
His expression softened.
“No.”
Relief hit me.
Then irritation.
“You could have started with that.”
“I tried.”
“You started with water.”
“You looked dehydrated.”
“You are unbelievable.”
The clock clicked to 5:42.
Eighteen minutes.
My phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Lobby. 6:05. Bring the drive or your mother receives the Chicago files.
My blood went cold.
“My mother?”
Graham took the phone.
His face hardened.
“What Chicago files?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
I stared at the message.
Then I remembered the thing I had hidden from Graham.
Three months earlier, my mother’s small accounting business had almost collapsed after an anonymous tax complaint triggered an audit.
Nothing illegal was found.
But she had nearly lost everything.
At the time, I thought it was random.
Now—
“Victor’s been watching me longer than two weeks.”
Graham went completely still.
“How long?”
“Maybe months.”
He reached for his phone.
I grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
His eyes dropped to my hand.
“What?”
“If Victor has people inside the hotel, we don’t know who we can trust.”
“We have security.”
“Security already let someone into my room.”
He didn’t argue.
I walked toward the window.
Las Vegas glowed beneath the approaching dawn.
Then I saw something.
A black SUV parked across from the hotel entrance.
Beside it stood a man looking up toward our floor.
I stepped back.
“Graham.”
He came beside me.
The man below lifted his phone.
A second later, Graham’s phone rang.
Victor Reed.
Graham answered.
“Victor.”
His uncle’s voice was cheerful.
“Happy birthday.”
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“You’re not getting it.”
Victor laughed.
“Oh, Graham. This was never about the flash drive.”
Graham’s face changed.
“Then what is it about?”
Victor answered calmly.
“Your wife.”
May you like
And the call disconnected.
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