She wasn't snooping.
She was searching for printer paper.
The drawer near his home office desk — the one Christian always locked — was open for once.
He'd left in a rush that morning.
Board meeting.
Tie half-done.
Mouth pressed to her forehead like a habit, not a kiss.
So she pulled the drawer gently, humming.
And found—
A file. Black.
No label.
Just a silver clip.
A quiet threat.
📂 Inside the File
She almost didn't open it.
Almost.
But her name was the first word on the top page.
"Anastasia Rae – Marriage Asset Evaluation"
Her heart paused.
The pages beneath weren't just legal.
They were clinical.
Cold.
Background checks.
Psychological profiles.
Photos from before they ever met.
A list of "potential leverage points" — her father's gambling debt, her scholarship expiration date, the small shop her mother once pawned her wedding ring to save.
She kept reading even when her stomach turned.
And then—
A signature.
Celeste Blake.
And beneath it—
"Prepared at the request of Christian Blake, 3 weeks prior to public marriage disclosure."
She couldn't breathe for a moment.
This wasn't the Christian she knew now.
But it was the Christian who married her.
The one who once called her a transaction in a moment of rage.
The one who now told her she made him better.
But how do you forgive a man who planned to own you…
before he ever tried to know you?
🕰️ When He Got Home
The door closed behind him.
Keys hit the marble tray.
"Ana?"
She didn't answer right away.
She was sitting on the floor.
File open.
Her fingers resting on the photo he'd once seen of her working at the campus library—
before they'd even met.
His blood ran cold.
"Ana… I can explain."
She didn't shout.
Didn't cry.
She just looked up and asked—
"Was I ever a person to you, Christian? Or just a profile you planned to upgrade?"
To be continued…