Thaddeus POV
"Now we destroy him."
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, but I don't regret them. Dashiell crossed a line. Posted a photo of Nerissa leaving a women's clinic, called her a monster, told the world she aborted a baby.
My stepson just signed his own death warrant.
"Thaddeus—" Nerissa's voice shakes. "I can't... everyone will know..."
"Everyone already thinks they know." I turn my phone off and toss it aside. "Marlowe started this war. Dashiell escalated it. Now we finish it."
"How?" She's trembling, tears streaming down her face. "How do we fight this? They have social media, they have lies, they have—"
"Nothing." I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "They have nothing but lies and cowardice. We have the truth. And we have something they'll never understand."
"What?"
"Power." I brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb. "Real power. Not social media posts and fake outrage. The kind of power that destroys lives with a single phone call."
Her eyes widen. "You're talking about revenge."
"I'm talking about justice." I let her go and pull out my backup phone. "Dashiell just made a fatal mistake. He attacked you publicly. Called you a gold digger and a monster. But here's what he doesn't know."
"What?"
"You're not some helpless victim anymore. You're my wife. And anyone who hurts you answers to me."
I dial Geneva's number. She answers on the first ring.
"Sir?"
"I need everything on Dashiell Voss. Financial records, employment history, phone records, emails. Everything. And I need it in two hours."
"Consider it done." Geneva pauses. "Sir, I saw his post. Do you want me to—"
"Handle the hospital payment first. Mrs. Caldwell's mother is priority one. Then start digging into Dashiell. I want to know every secret, every lie, every dirty transaction."
"Mrs. Caldwell?" Geneva's voice changes, warm with understanding. "She signed?"
"She signed." I look at Nerissa, who's watching me with something between fear and awe. "Get the penthouse ready. She's moving in tonight."
I hang up.
Nerissa stares at me. "That's it? You just... make calls and things happen?"
"Welcome to my world, Mrs. Reign." The name sounds right on my lips. Perfect. Mine. "In my world, problems get solved. Quickly."
"I'm not your wife yet. We just signed a contract—"
"We'll make it legal tomorrow. City hall, 9 AM. Geneva will arrange everything." I step closer to her. "But as far as I'm concerned, you became mine the moment you signed that paper."
Her breath catches. "Thaddeus—"
"Say it." My voice comes out rougher than I intended. "Say you're mine."
"This is just a contract—"
"Say it, Nerissa."
We're inches apart now. I can see the pulse racing in her throat. Can smell the fear and confusion and something else coming off her in waves. Something that matches the hunger I've been fighting for seven years.
"I'm yours," she whispers. "For one year."
"One year," I agree. But we both know I'm lying. If I have my way, she'll be mine forever. Or at least for whatever forever I have left.
Eighteen months. That's what the doctors said. Eighteen months before the cancer eats through me completely.
Eighteen months to make Nerissa fall in love with me.
Eighteen months to destroy everyone who hurt her.
Not enough time. But it'll have to be.
My phone buzzes. Geneva, texting: "Mrs. Caldwell's surgery scheduled for 6 AM. Best cardiac surgeon in the state. She'll live."
I show Nerissa the message.
She breaks down completely, sobbing into her hands. "My mom... she's going to be okay..."
"Yes." I pull her against my chest, letting her cry. Her body shakes in my arms, and something protective and fierce rises in me. This woman—brilliant, broken, beautiful—is mine now. And I'll burn down the world before I let anyone hurt her again.
"Thank you," she gasps between sobs. "Thank you, thank you—"
"Don't thank me." I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "This isn't kindness, Nerissa. This is selfishness. I wanted you, and now I have you. Your gratitude means nothing."
"You're lying." Her voice is soft but certain. "You're not as cold as you pretend to be."
She's right. But I can't admit that.
"Pack your things," I say instead, releasing her. "We're leaving this hellhole."
"Where are we going?"
"Home. My penthouse. Your new life." I head for the door, then pause. "Oh, and Nerissa? Delete all your social media apps. Right now. Don't read the comments. Don't look at the posts. Don't give them the satisfaction."
"But people are saying horrible things—"
"Let them talk." I turn back to face her. "By tomorrow, they'll be talking about something else entirely. Our wedding. Our announcement. The fact that Dashiell's ex-wife just married a billionaire." I smile, cold and calculated. "We're going to make him choke on his lies."
Two hours later, we pull up to my building in my private car. Nerissa has one small suitcase—everything she grabbed from that disgusting hotel room. Everything she has left in the world.
It's pathetic. And it makes me want to kill Dashiell with my bare hands.
The doorman opens the car door. "Welcome home, Mr. Reign."
"Jameson, this is Mrs. Reign. She has full access to the building, the penthouse, everything. Make sure everyone on staff knows."
Jameson's eyes widen slightly—the only sign of surprise he allows himself. "Of course, sir. Welcome, Mrs. Reign."
Nerissa looks at me, panic in her eyes. "They all think—"
"They think you're my wife. Because you are." I take her hand—small, cold, trembling—and lead her inside.
The elevator ride to the penthouse is silent. Nerissa stares at our reflection in the mirrored walls. We look like strangers. A silver-haired billionaire in an expensive suit. A devastated young woman in yesterday's clothes, eyes red from crying.
But we're not strangers. Not anymore.
"This is crazy," she whispers.
"Yes."
"I married you to save my mother."
"Yes."
"And you married me because you're dying and lonely."
"Yes."
"This isn't a real marriage."
I turn to face her, backing her against the elevator wall. "Isn't it? We signed a contract. We made vows—well, we will tomorrow. You're wearing my ring—" I pull a black velvet box from my pocket, flip it open. Inside is a diamond so large it could pay off a small country's debt.
Her mouth falls open. "Thaddeus—"
"Give me your hand."
"This is too much—"
"Give. Me. Your. Hand."
She does, trembling.
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. Of course it does. I had it made three days ago, when I first heard about her situation. When I first saw my chance.
"There," I say softly. "Now you're mine. Officially."
The elevator doors open to my penthouse.
Geneva is waiting, professional as always. "Welcome home, sir. Mrs. Reign." She nods to Nerissa. "I've prepared the guest suite for you. Fresh clothes, toiletries, everything you'll need."
"Thank you," Nerissa whispers, staring at the massive space—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, modern furniture, art worth millions.
"Also," Geneva continues, pulling out a tablet. "The information you requested on Dashiell Voss."
I take the tablet, scrolling through quickly. My smile grows with each page.
"What is it?" Nerissa asks.
"Your ex-husband has been very, very stupid." I turn the tablet so she can see. "He's been embezzling from his company for three years. Small amounts at first, then bigger. He's got offshore accounts, shell companies, all the cliché criminal behavior."
Nerissa's eyes widen. "How did you find this so fast?"
"I have resources." I hand the tablet back to Geneva. "Prepare a full report. Send it to the FBI, the IRS, and every major news outlet. Tomorrow morning, 8 AM. Right before our wedding."
"Sir, that will—"
"Destroy him. Yes. That's the point."
Nerissa grabs my arm. "Thaddeus, wait. If you do this, he'll know it came from you. From us. He'll retaliate—"
"With what? He'll be in federal custody by noon." I turn to her, letting her see the cold fury I usually hide. "You wanted to know why I'm really doing this? It's not just because I'm dying. It's not just because I want you."
"Then why?"
"Because Dashiell is my biggest regret." The words taste like poison. "I raised him after his mother died. I gave him everything—education, opportunities, my name. And he turned into a selfish, cruel coward who destroyed a brilliant woman because his ego couldn't handle her success. He doesn't deserve mercy. He deserves to lose everything, just like he made you lose everything."
Tears stream down Nerissa's face again. "You're doing this for me?"
"I'm doing this for us both." I cup her face again, addicted to touching her already. "You get justice. I get to watch my stepson finally face consequences. We both win."
She searches my eyes. "What if I can't do this? What if I can't be what you need?"
"You already are."
"You don't even know me."
"I've watched you for seven years, Nerissa. I know you better than you think."
Before she can respond, my phone rings.
Unknown number.
I answer. "Reign."
"Hello, Thaddeus." A woman's voice. Familiar. Poisonous. "I hear congratulations are in order. You married your stepson's ex-wife. How deliciously scandalous."
My blood runs cold.
"Who is this?"
"Don't you recognize me? I'm hurt. Then again, it has been twenty years since you destroyed my family."
Nerissa watches me, confused.
The woman laughs. "I'm calling to let you know I've returned to town. And I'm very interested in meeting your new bride. After all, she deserves to know the truth about the man she just married."
"Stay away from her—"
"Or what? You'll destroy me like you destroyed my father? Too late, Thaddeus. I'm already dead inside. But your little wife? She still has so much to lose."
The line goes dead.
I stand frozen, the phone in my hand.
"Thaddeus?" Nerissa's voice is small. "Who was that?"
I turn to her, and for the first time in twenty years, I feel genuine fear.
"My past," I say quietly. "Coming back to destroy my future."