Nerissa POV
"You killed her?" I stare at the death certificate in the blonde woman's hand, my brain refusing to process what I'm seeing. "But you're standing right here—"
"Am I?" Vivienne's smile is razor-sharp. "Or am I a ghost come back to haunt the man who destroyed me?"
Thaddeus steps in front of me, protective and furious. "Vivienne. You faked your death."
"I had to." She waves the papers like a weapon. "It was the only way to escape you. The great Thaddeus Reign doesn't let loose ends survive, does he?"
Hospital security inches closer, but Vivienne ignores them. Her ice-blue eyes—so similar to Thaddeus's it's disturbing—lock onto me.
"Let me guess the story he told you," she purrs. "My father owned a company. Big bad Thaddeus destroyed it. Daddy killed himself. Poor tragic Vivienne disappeared. Am I close?"
My throat is too tight to answer.
"That's the sanitized version." Vivienne laughs, cold and bitter. "Want to know what really happened? My father didn't just lose his company. Thaddeus framed him for insider trading. Planted evidence. Bribed witnesses. Destroyed him so completely that no one would hire him. My father didn't kill himself because he lost his business. He killed himself because Thaddeus made sure everyone thought he was a criminal."
"That's not—" Thaddeus starts.
"And it gets better!" Vivienne's voice rises. "After Daddy died, guess who showed up at our house? Guess who offered my grieving mother a 'settlement' in exchange for her silence? Guess who threatened to destroy what was left of our family if we ever spoke the truth?"
She points at Thaddeus with a shaking hand.
"You weren't seventeen when your father died," Thaddeus says quietly. "You were twenty-three. And your father was guilty of insider trading. I didn't frame him. I just... exposed him."
"Liar!" Vivienne screams. "You planted that evidence and you know it!"
Security moves to grab her, but I hold up my hand. "Wait."
Everyone freezes.
I step around Thaddeus, standing face to face with this ghost-woman who's supposed to be dead. "Why now? Why come back after twenty years?"
Vivienne's expression shifts—surprise, then respect. "Smart question. You're smarter than you look, little bride."
"Answer her," Thaddeus growls.
"Because I just found out something interesting." Vivienne pulls another paper from her folder. "Thaddeus Reign has terminal cancer. Eighteen months to live. And he just married a woman young enough to be his daughter." Her smile turns vicious. "I came back to make sure his last year on earth is hell. Just like he made my father's last year hell."
My hands clench into fists. "You want revenge."
"I want justice." Vivienne steps closer. "And you, sweet Nerissa, are the key. Because I know something you don't know about your new husband."
"Don't," Thaddeus warns.
"He's done this before." Vivienne's words drop like bombs. "Married a younger woman. Made her fall in love with him. Then destroyed her when she got too close to the truth about his business practices."
My heart stops. "What?"
"Her name was Isabella Chen. She was twenty-six. He was forty-two." Vivienne shows me a photograph—a beautiful Asian woman in a wedding dress, smiling at the camera. Next to her, a younger Thaddeus. "They were married for six months. Then she died in a car accident."
The lobby spins.
"It wasn't an accident," Vivienne whispers. "He had her killed because she found evidence of his crimes. Just like he'll kill you when you become inconvenient."
"That's insane!" I turn to Thaddeus. "Tell her she's lying!"
But Thaddeus's face has gone completely blank. Empty.
"Thaddeus!" I grab his arm. "Say something!"
"Isabella was my wife," he says quietly. "She died in a car accident six years ago. It was investigated. Ruled accidental. Vivienne is lying about the rest."
"Am I?" Vivienne pulls out another document. "This is the police report. Brake lines cut. Investigators suspected foul play but the case was closed after a large donation to the police department. Want to guess who made that donation?"
She points at Thaddeus again.
I can't breathe. "You paid them to close the case?"
"I donated to the department," Thaddeus says carefully. "After my wife's death. It's not the same thing."
"It's exactly the same thing!" Vivienne shouts. "You killed her and bought your way out of it!"
"I loved Isabella." Thaddeus's voice cracks. "I would never—"
"You love your empire more than anything." Vivienne turns back to me. "Run, Nerissa. Run before you end up like Isabella. Like my father. Like everyone who gets too close to Thaddeus Reign's secrets."
Security finally grabs her arms.
"I'm not done!" She struggles against them. "Nerissa, check his basement! The locked room in his penthouse! Ask him why it's always locked! Ask him what he's hiding!"
They drag her toward the exit.
"ASK HIM ABOUT THE BASEMENT!" she screams as the doors close behind her.
Silence fills the lobby.
Everyone stares at us—the billionaire and his young bride, surrounded by accusations of murder.
I turn to Thaddeus slowly. "Did you kill your first wife?"
"No." His voice is steel. "Isabella died in an accident. I had nothing to do with it."
"But you paid the police—"
"I donated to the department that handled my wife's case. It's standard practice for someone in my position."
"Standard practice for murderers," I whisper.
Something breaks in his expression. "You believe her? After everything I've done for you? You believe a woman who faked her own death over your husband?"
"You're not my husband. You're a contract." The words come out cold. Mean. "And I just found out you had another wife who died mysteriously. What am I supposed to think?"
Thaddeus steps back like I slapped him. "I see."
"No, you don't see!" My voice rises. "I gave up everything for you! My dignity, my choices, my future! And now I find out you might be a murderer?"
"I'm not a murderer."
"Then what's in the locked room?"
Silence.
"Thaddeus." My heart pounds. "What's in the locked room in your penthouse?"
He doesn't answer.
"WHAT'S IN THE ROOM?"
"Nothing that concerns you." His mask is back—cold, distant, untouchable. "Geneva, take Mrs. Reign home. I have business to handle."
"Don't you dare walk away from me—"
But he's already gone, striding toward the exit without looking back.
I stand there shaking, surrounded by hospital staff pretending not to stare.
Geneva touches my arm gently. "Mrs. Reign? The car is waiting."
"I want to see the room," I say.
"Ma'am?"
"The locked room in the penthouse. I want to see what's inside."
Geneva's face goes carefully blank. "I don't have access to that room."
"But you know what's in there."
She doesn't answer. Which is an answer itself.
"Please," I beg. "If I'm going to be his wife—even for just one year—I need to know the truth. Did he kill Isabella?"
Geneva is quiet for a long moment.
Then: "Come with me. There's something you need to see. But not at the penthouse."
Twenty minutes later, Geneva parks outside a cemetery.
"Why are we here?" I ask.
"Because you asked about Isabella." Geneva gets out of the car. "This is where she's buried."
We walk through rows of headstones until we reach a simple grave marker.
ISABELLA CHEN-REIGN
Beloved Wife
Taken Too Soon
Fresh flowers sit at the base. White roses. Someone was here recently.
"He comes every week," Geneva says quietly. "Has for six years. Sits here for hours. Talks to her."
My throat tightens. "What does he say?"
"I don't know. I wait in the car." Geneva looks at me. "But I've worked for Thaddeus Reign for twelve years. I've seen him destroy competitors, ruin enemies, crush anyone who threatens his empire. But I've also seen him cry at this grave. Whatever Vivienne told you—it's not the whole truth."
"Then what is the truth?"
"That's between you and him." Geneva hands me a key. "This opens the locked room. I'll be fired if he finds out I gave it to you. But you deserve to know what you married into."
I stare at the key, small and silver in my palm.
"One more thing," Geneva adds. "Isabella's death was investigated thoroughly. The police found nothing except cut brake lines—which could have been an accident from poor maintenance. There was no evidence Thaddeus was involved. The donation he made was for a new crime lab. Completely legal. Completely public."
"Then why did he make it right after her death?"
"You'll have to ask him that."
We drive back to the penthouse in silence.
My mind races with questions. Accusations. Fears.
Thaddeus had a wife who died mysteriously. He paid the police after her death. He keeps a locked room in his home that no one can access.
And I just married him.
The penthouse is dark when we arrive. Thaddeus isn't home.
Geneva squeezes my shoulder. "Whatever you find in that room—remember that people are more complicated than their worst moments."
Then she's gone, leaving me alone with the key.
The locked room is at the end of the hallway. I've walked past it a dozen times, never thinking to ask what was inside.
Now I stand in front of it, key in hand, heart pounding.
I could wait. Ask Thaddeus directly. Give him a chance to explain.
Or I could open the door and find the truth myself.
I slide the key into the lock.
It turns with a soft click.
The door swings open.
Inside, the room is dark. I fumble for a light switch.
When the lights come on, I gasp.
The walls are covered in photographs. Hundreds of them. All of the same woman.
Isabella.
Isabella smiling. Isabella laughing. Isabella in a wedding dress. Isabella sleeping. Isabella—
My blood runs cold.
Some of these photos are from cameras she didn't know were there. Private moments. Intimate moments.
This isn't a shrine.
This is obsession.
And in the center of the room, on a table, sits a single file folder.
I open it with shaking hands.
Inside are documents. Emails. Phone records.
All showing that Isabella was planning to leave Thaddeus.
She'd contacted a divorce lawyer. Opened a secret bank account. Bought a plane ticket to Paris.
The ticket was for the day after she died.
At the bottom of the folder is a handwritten note in Thaddeus's writing:
"She was going to leave me. I couldn't let that happen. I won't lose another one."
The room spins.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Vivienne was right.
Thaddeus killed his first wife.
And I just married him.
I hear the penthouse door open downstairs.
Footsteps on the stairs.
Thaddeus is home.
And he's going to know I found his secret.