Chapter 2 - THE PHOTOGRAPH IN THE ENVELOPE
The photograph had been taken from across the street.
I was standing beside Lily.
Laughing.
Completely unaware that someone had been watching me.
On the back, three words were written in black ink.
RETURN WHAT’S OURS.
I stared at them.
“What does that mean?”
Brian looked at Ethan.
Ethan looked furious.
Not confused.
“Tell me.”
He ignored the demand.
“Brian, double security around her.”
I stepped between them.
“No.”
Both men looked at me.
“I’m done being protected from explanations.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“Jane.”
“You married me because of territory.”
Silence.
“You told your men I meant nothing to you.”
Brian’s eyes flicked toward Ethan.
So now he knew I had heard.
I kept going.
“If someone is shooting at me because of something connected to my family, I deserve to know why.”
Ethan stared at me for several seconds.
Then he dismissed everyone except Brian.
The study felt different with the doors closed.
This was the same room where I had overheard him three hours before our wedding.
The same walls.
The same desk.
The same voice that had shattered me.
Ethan stood behind the desk.
“Your father controls more than distribution.”
“I know that.”
“No. You know what he told you.”
I folded my arms.
“And what didn’t he tell me?”
Brian placed a file on the desk.
Inside were maps.
Shipping routes.
Port schedules.
Company names.
Most looked ordinary.
Then I saw one I recognized.
MORROW IMPORTS.
My mother’s maiden name had been Morrow.
I looked at Ethan.
“What is this?”
“A holding company.”
“For what?”
“Your father used it to move money.”
“That doesn’t explain the photo.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“Ten years ago, Russo money disappeared through one of those accounts.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-eight million.”
I almost laughed.
“My father doesn’t steal from the Russos.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he hates them.”
Ethan’s eyes sharpened.
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t steal from them.”
Brian opened another document.
The account had been created under a trust.
The beneficiary name made my chest tighten.
Jane Marie Bennett.
My maiden name.
I stared at the page.
“I was twelve.”
“I know.”
“Then why is my name here?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to find out.”
I looked at Ethan.
“When did you discover this?”
“Two weeks ago.”
That explained the security.
The sudden interest.
The guards following me.
“You think the Russos believe I have the money?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
Something in his tone caught me.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
His eyes held mine.
“Because I investigated you before I married you.”
The words should have angered me.
Instead, they made me cold.
“How much did you investigate?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“School records. Accounts. Friends. Travel. Medical history. Financial records.”
I stared at him.
“So you knew I had nothing.”
“Yes.”
“And you married me anyway.”
His jaw tightened.
Then Brian placed one more photograph on the desk.
This one was older.
A little girl standing beside a black sedan.
Me.
Age twelve.
Behind me stood my father.
And beside him was a man I recognized immediately.
Victor Russo.
May you like
On the back was a date.
The exact week the twenty-eight million dollars disappeared.
