I never imagined I would lie motionless, feigning a coma, only to discover the woman I was going to marry was waiting for me to die, while the quiet housekeeper by my bedside was the only one who truly saw me.

Forty-eight hours after Adrian’s disappearance from the hospital, Victoria held an emergency press conference at Cross Enterprises headquarters.

Dressed in a pristine black designer suit, she stood before a sea of flashing cameras, dabbing fake tears from her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

“It is with a heavy heart that I announce the tragic passing of my beloved fiancé, Adrian Cross,” Victoria announced, her voice trembling dramatically for the reporters. “Due to complications from his accident, Adrian suffered fatal heart failure late Tuesday evening. In accordance with his wishes, his body has been moved to a private facility for cremation.”

Sitting in the back of a blacked-out van parked two blocks away, Adrian watched the broadcast on a tablet screen. Beside him, Mara was typing rapidly on a laptop connected to a secure encrypted server.

“She’s moving fast,” Mara said, pointing to a set of incoming corporate filings. “Victoria just submitted the emergency power-of-attorney documents to the board. She’s attempting to transfer forty percent of your treasury stock into a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands.”

“That shell company belongs to Marcus,” Adrian said, his voice cold as ice. “They’re stripping the company before the probate court even opens.”

“Not if we cut off their oxygen,” Mara smiled faintly. She tapped a key on her keyboard. “I just uploaded an anonymous tip to the Securities and Exchange Commission containing Marcus’s offshore bank account transfers over the last six months. They won't be able to move a single dollar without triggering an automatic federal audit.”

Adrian looked at Mara, impressed by her cold, calculated efficiency. “Where did you learn how to hunt corporate criminals?”

“My father wasn't just a paramedic, Adrian,” Mara said, using his first name for the first time. She looked up at him, her dark eyes flashing with intelligence. “Before his career was destroyed, he was a forensic accountant for the Department of Justice. He taught me how to follow the money.”

A quiet warmth blossomed in Adrian’s chest. In the dark, high-stakes world he lived in, he had been surrounded by fakes and flatterers. But Mara was pure gold.

“Victoria is holding a memorial gala at my penthouse tomorrow night,” Adrian said, his eyes returning to the tablet screen where Victoria was offering a tearful smile to the cameras. “She thinks she’s celebrating her victory.”

“What are you going to do?” Mara asked.