Chapter 5 - The Bride Who Disappeared
Genevieve was already moving.
Gideon blocked the door.
“No.”
“Move.”
“He wants you.”
“He has Beatrice.”
“Which is precisely why you don't walk into his warehouse.”
Genevieve stepped close enough that only he could hear.
“That woman raised me.”
“I know.”
“Then move.”
“No.”
She slapped him again.
Rosalind muttered, “Marriage seems healthy.”
Gideon ignored her.
Genevieve lowered her voice.
“You don't own me.”
“I know.”
“You don't command me.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
“Because loving you does not require owning you.”
Everything stopped.
Gideon seemed to realize what he had said.
Genevieve stared at him.
Their marriage had been negotiated.
Strategic.
Cold.
They had known each other for years through business, but neither had spoken of love.
Not once.
Gideon looked away first.
“This is not the time.”
“No,” Genevieve whispered. “It really isn't.”
She walked around him.
He let her.
At 4:02 a.m., four vehicles moved toward the industrial harbor.
Genevieve rode with Gideon.
Neither mentioned what he had said.
The silence became almost unbearable.
Finally Genevieve asked, “When?”
Gideon looked ahead.
“When what?”
“You know what.”
He exhaled.
“Three years ago.”
“That specific?”
“You destroyed Victor Salazar in a board meeting.”
“I corrected his projections.”
“You made a seventy-year-old billionaire apologize to an intern.”
“He was wrong.”
“I know.”
Despite herself, Genevieve smiled.
It vanished quickly.
“Why agree to the arranged marriage instead of telling me?”
“Because you might have said no.”
“And apparently Gideon Vale fears rejection.”
“Only from one woman.”
She looked out the window.
Dawn was still hours away.
The city passed in streaks of gold.
“You hurt me tonight.”
“I know.”
“I may not forgive you.”
“I know.”
“You don't get points for agreeing.”
“I know.”
She nearly laughed.
Then the convoy stopped.
Warehouse Forty-Three stood beside the water.
No lights.
No guards.
Too easy.
Rosalind found the side entrance open.
Inside, a single chair waited beneath a hanging lamp.
Beatrice sat tied to it.
Alive.
Genevieve ran toward her.
“Stop!” Gideon shouted.
Too late.
A steel gate crashed behind them.
Lights exploded on.
Men appeared along the upper catwalks.
Armed.
Malcolm Winterborne stepped from an office.
He was older than the photographs Genevieve remembered.
But unmistakable.
“Hello, niece.”
Genevieve stared at the dead man.
“Let her go.”
“Eventually.”
Malcolm smiled at Gideon.
“And the famous king of Port Aurelia. Bleeding on his wedding night. How disappointing.”
Gideon's face remained blank.
“What do you want?”
“The contract.”
Genevieve held it tighter.
“Why?”
“Because your mother was clever enough to hide the final cipher inside it.”
Eleanor had not mentioned that.
Malcolm saw Genevieve's surprise.
“Ah. Mommy still keeps secrets.”
He approached.
Gideon's men raised weapons.
So did Malcolm's.
A stalemate.
“Page forty-three,” Malcolm said.
Genevieve understood.
The hidden page.
The blood.
The numbers.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
Malcolm sighed.
Then pressed a remote.
A screen illuminated above them.
Security footage appeared.
Winterborne headquarters.
Genevieve's father entering his office earlier that week.
Then another angle.
Arthur opening a safe.
Inside were stacks of files marked with the wolf-and-moon crest.
Genevieve looked at him.
Arthur went pale.
“Those aren't mine.”
Malcolm smiled.
“Of course not.”
Genevieve studied the footage.
Something bothered her.
The timestamp.
Arthur wore his watch on his left wrist.
In the video, it was on his right.
“Mirror image,” she said.
Malcolm's smile faded.
“The footage was flipped.”
She looked closer.
“No. Manufactured.”
Gideon smiled faintly.
“That's my wife.”
Malcolm's face hardened.
“Not after nine.”
Genevieve moved toward Beatrice.
Malcolm raised a gun.
Gideon stepped between them.
“Try it.”
For the first time, Malcolm hesitated.
Not because Gideon had a weapon.
Because Gideon didn't.
He simply stood there.
Certain.
Genevieve realized why.
The catwalk guards were no longer pointing at them.
They were pointing at Malcolm.
Rosalind had turned them.
Malcolm looked upward.
“What is this?”
Rosalind smiled.
“Your employees haven't been paid in three months.”
Gunfire erupted.
Genevieve dropped.
Gideon covered her.
Arthur reached Beatrice.
Malcolm ran.
Rosalind pursued him.
Genevieve saw something fall from his coat.
A brass key.
She grabbed it.
Stamped into the metal:
43-B.
Not Warehouse Forty-Three.
Something inside it.
A second lock.
Gideon saw the key.
They searched.
Behind a false wall in Malcolm's office they found a steel door.
Genevieve inserted the key.
It opened.
Inside stood shelves of files.
Hundreds.
At the center was a locked black case.
Genevieve approached.
Her initials were engraved on top.
G.W.
She touched the latch.
It opened automatically.
Inside was a ledger.
And beneath it was a birth certificate.
Genevieve unfolded it.
Her own name appeared.
GENEVIEVE ELEANOR WINTERBORNE.
Mother: Eleanor Winterborne.
Father—
Genevieve stared at the line.
Gideon stepped beside her.
“What does it say?”
She couldn't answer.
Because Arthur Winterborne's name was not there.
Another man's name was.
A man Genevieve had known her entire life.
She looked up at Gideon.
May you like
“My father isn't my father.”
Behind them, Arthur whispered, “Genevieve…”
