His Best Friend's Widow

PART

**POV: Lila**

When they lowered his coffin into the ground, I didn't cry.

My legs trembled. I felt as though I was keeping myself from collapsing by keeping my hands clasped together in front of me. No tears, though. Nothing but quiet. And it wasn't grief that caused the heat between my legs, on my neck, or in my chest. The man next to me told me everything.

Cole, Ethan.

The best friend of my deceased husband.

I wasn't touched by him. At no point during the funeral. But he gave me a look. As if he was aware. As if he sensed it too.

He handed me a folded piece of tissue, and his palm touched mine. My breath caught not because of the tissue. Warm, rough, and lingering longer than necessary, it was his fingers.

I shouldn't have experienced any emotions.

I had just laid my husband to rest.

However, I experienced everything.

Fear, hunger, and guilt.

And despite the priest's words, the fictitious prayers, and the white roses that were placed atop Richard's coffin, Ethan's gaze remained fixed on me.

He waited until everyone had left-until my parents had gone, until the pathetic coworkers had gone, until the sound of wood hitting dirt had turned to silence.

Then he said something.

"This evening, you shouldn't be by yourself."

He spoke softly. The way Richard used to speak was different. Richard let out a bark. managed. demanded.

Ethan remained composed. steady. His words encircled me like cozy blankets.

I took a swallow. "I'm all right."

"No, you're not."

I looked over at him. His outfit was too flawless. His jaw was too clenched. Nor had he shed a tear.

I remarked, "You didn't even like him."

He twitched his jaw. "I held him in high regard."

"Is that the nature of this?" I gave a sour laugh. "Decency?"

His gaze fell to my lips.

"No," he replied. "There's more to this."

He took a step toward her. I gasped.

There was nobody in the cemetery. It was just the wind rustling the grass and Ethan and me.

I muttered, "I shouldn't."

"No," he concurred. "You ought not to."

However, neither of us made any movement.

The heat surged through me once more, sharper and lower, as his fingers touched my cheek. Richard hadn't touched me in that way in months. It hasn't felt like anything in years.

He said, "Come home with me."

My heart struck my ribs hard.

"I can't," I uttered.

"Then I'll accompany you."

I started to respond negatively. However, the word never arrived.

since I didn't want to be by myself. I didn't wish to recall. I didn't want my home's silence to consume me.

Furthermore, I didn't want Ethan to stop staring at me in the same manner as he was right now.

I gave a nod.

On the drive back, he remained silent. Nothing but quiet. The wheel is in one hand. The other was on the equipment.

And me?

I was unable to look away.

Those forearm muscles. The strain his suit put on his chest. He had a rich, clean, and deep scent. Not at all like Richard's stale cologne.

With trembling hands, I unlocked the door when we arrived at my house. As if he had done it a hundred times, Ethan followed me inside. Perhaps he had.

There were no lights on. The throw blanket Richard detested was still on the couch. From the mantel, the picture of our wedding day gazed at me.

I flipped it over.

"Are you hungry?" My voice was too high as I asked.

Ethan remained silent.

Rather, he approached me slowly and deliberately, as if he had endless time.

Once more, he reached for my cheek. slid into my hair after that.

He said, "You don't need to be strong right now."

I glanced up at him.

Something broke inside of me.

I then gave him a kiss.

It was crazy. Warm. False. So incorrect. I felt something genuine for the first time in a long time, though, as his arms encircled me and his mouth opened against mine.

My back struck the wall. He ran his lips down my neck. Trembling and hungry, my hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

He was helpful to me. Silently. Gently.

Then his hungry lips found their way back to mine. In a desperate situation.

Clothes fall to the ground.

I didn't give a damn.

This was what I needed.

I asked him.

With a sort of reverence that made me want to cry, he lifted me up as if I were weightless, carried me to the couch, and laid me down.

His lips first touched my collarbone, then moved down until I was out of breath. until I moaned his name into the silent house as my nails dug into his back.

He went slowly, as if he wanted to savor every moment.

I gave him permission.

Because I wanted to erase all other memories.

And I wasn't a widow in those moments-tangled, gasping for air, hurting. I wasn't damaged.

I was only Lila.

He was Ethan, too.

For a long time, we remained skin to skin, our hearts too loud.

But when I saw the envelope, the moment fell apart.

The coffee table held it. White. sealed.

using the handwriting of Richard.

I went cold.

Ethan looked after me.

He remained motionless.

I said, "You knew something."

He shut his eyes.

"Lila-"

"You had some knowledge about Richard prior to his passing."

I only needed his silence as an answer.

With my heart thumping with fresh terror, I sat up and wrapped the throw blanket around myself.

"Ethan, what did you do?"

He didn't respond.

But I could tell everything I needed to know from his face.

All of a sudden, I no longer felt secure.

Not with him.

Not here at home.

Not with this reality hidden behind a kiss.

Ethan repeated, "You're not ready to know the truth," in a hard, low voice that was a warning and a confession all at once.

My fingers gripped the envelope as if it were going to pierce my flesh.

"So, what brings you here?" My voice cracked as I asked.

His jaw did not loosen, but his eyes did soften. Since I didn't want you to be by yourself. Since I've always-

He halted himself.

I waited.

He did not, however, complete the sentence. Rather, he took a step back, as though separating us would reverse our recent actions. His chest rose and fell quickly as his shirt hung open. So did mine.

I said, "I think you should go."

Ethan remained silent. With a single nod, he turned to face the door.

But he stopped in the middle.

"Lila, I didn't kill him."

I felt sick to my stomach.

His eyes were heavy as he glanced over his shoulder. "But I also didn't stop what happened."

Behind him, the door clicked shut.

And with my heart thumping so loudly that I could hardly hear my own thoughts, I stood there, gazing at the location where he had just been.

That evening, I didn't open the envelope.

I made an effort. My fingers repeatedly touched the edge. However, images of Ethan's mouth on mine, his words prior to his departure, and the weight in his eyes when he stated that he didn't stop it kept coming back to me.

What was meant by that?

With my blanket tightly wrapped, I curled up on the couch and gazed at the fireplace until the room grew dark and engulfed everything.

There was no sleep.

Just recollections.

Ethan's hands, too.

Like a slow golden slap, morning light filtered through the curtains. I groaned as I pushed off the couch. The cold leather hurt my body, but my heart hurt more.

Richard had left.

Ethan was secretive.

And I didn't know what to do.

On the coffee table, my phone buzzed.

**Unknown Phone Number: "We must speak. Right now. **

My heart skipped a beat as I gazed at the message. I returned the type: **"Who is this?"**

The response arrived quickly: ** "Verify your front foot." **

I felt shivers down my back.

I slowly stood up and peered through the window next to the door.

There was nobody.

I opened the door a crack.

There was a brown envelope on the mat.

I picked it up with hands that were shaking. It was substantial. heavy. not sealed, in contrast to the other.

I carefully opened it.

There were pictures inside.

dozens of them.

Richard, Ethan, and me.

Charities, award shows, and dinners are a few examples of public events.

Some people don't.

One was of Ethan at the office party, standing behind me. He touched my waist. He gazed at me as if I were the only person in the world.

Another, faint but clear, showed Richard and another woman kissing inside a car.

I was having trouble breathing.

I felt sick to my stomach.

Nestled at the bottom of the envelope was a note. Sharp block letters on a single line.

**"Ask Ethan about the actual events in Prague." **

My fingers were as cold as ice as I dropped everything onto the coffee table.

Prague?

Last year, Richard had visited there on business. He returned a different person. Far away. Furious. The fights had begun at that point. He stopped touching me after that.

He never explained the situation to me.

However, Ethan was also present.

Now I realized that he had left at the same time for a conference. It was a coincidence, they said.

My mind whirled.

I required clarification.

I needed air, though.

I quickly put on jeans and a hoodie after taking a shower, tucked my hair up in a low bun, and tucked the envelope into my purse.

It took fifteen minutes to get to Ethan's penthouse. My heart pounded violently as I drove, my hands firmly gripping the steering wheel as I went by each street.

He occupied the highest floor of the city's tallest building. Steel and cold glass. Beautiful, aloof, and dangerous, just like him.

After entering the elevator, I pressed the button for the upper floor.

The elevator's air was too constrained. As if it understood what I was going to do.

His assistant blinked up at me from behind her desk as the doors opened.

"Miss West, I-um?" Confused, she said.

"Is he in?"

The door behind her had already opened when she opened her mouth to reply.

Ethan remained motionless. He had a loose tie. His eyes were weary.

He said to the assistant, "Let her in."

He had a dark wood office with large windows that let in plenty of light and a view of the entire city.

As I passed him, he remained silent.

I took the envelope out of my handbag and threw its contents onto his desk.

"The truth is what I want." Right now.

The pictures didn't make him cringe.

But the sight of the note sharpened his eyes.

He took his time reading it. then gave me a look.

"Who sent this?"

"You tell me."

He sat down heavily in his chair and combed his hair.

"This is not how I wanted you to find out."

"Discover what?" I lost my temper.

"That Richard wasn't who you believed him to be."

I gazed at him.

"Did he cheat on me?"

Ethan gave a nod.

My chest ached. I didn't cry, though.

I simply waited.

"It's not all there is." "In Prague, something happened. Something that completely altered the situation.

I moved in closer. "Tell me."

His eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and guilt as he gazed up at me.

Richard became involved with a dangerous person. He struck a bargain. took money that wasn't his. I forewarned him. pleaded with him to leave. He didn't listen, though.

I took a swallow. "What's the deal?"

Ethan paused. "It's against the law. shady money. Blackmail. He also brought up your name.

I stumbled back. "What?"

Ethan got up. "Lila, they're observing you now. I am here for that reason. I made the offer for that reason.

"What's the offer?"

He tightened his jaw.

Reaching a drawer, he took out another envelope.

There was a contract inside.

union.

His name and mine.

Stunned, I looked up at him.

"You wish to wed me?" I inquired.

He gave a nod. "To keep you safe."

"From what?"

He took a step toward her.

Then he uttered the words that made my lungs catch:

"From those who murdered Richard."

My heart pounded in my chest as I gazed at him.

"What did you just say?"

Ethan's eyes became gloomy. "They'll target you next."

Lila's POV

I remained silent. Ethan put the contract in front of me, and I just gazed at it. The phrases on the page flashed before my eyes: *no emotional obligations*, *one year*, *mutual protection*, and *marriage agreement*.

However, it was the final sentence that gave me a headache: *all liabilities and debts in Lila West's name will be fully paid off.

What is the amount I owe? My question was hardly audible above a whisper.

Ethan took a while to respond. With his arms folded and his dark eyes fixed on me, he sat on the edge of the desk.

Gently, he said, "Lila." "You underestimate how bad it is."

I knew it was horrible already. Every time I opened the mailbox and saw another envelope with a red stamp, I had sensed it. However, I had been scared to look. Too scared to count.

I had no other option now.

Ethan went to the cupboard at the far end and took out a large folder. Slowly, as if he were handing me something that could shatter me, he handed it to me.

My hands were shaking when I opened it.

And I almost tripped.

medical expenses. debt from a mortgage. balances on credit cards. I never signed any business loans. names of banks that I was unfamiliar with.

I turned to the page with the summary.

**~$742,000.**

My heart stopped beating.

"No," I muttered. "It's not mine."

"It is," he muttered. "Richard created some accounts using your name. Others-without your knowledge, they were joint.

I was ill.

The room whirled.

I backed aside and dropped the folder.

"I signed nothing at all."

"He did." Some were forged. You have rights as a married couple.

"This isn't possible." I sat down, trembling, and my knees struck the couch.

Ethan knelt before me, his face pressed against mine. "Lila, you're in danger. This goes beyond money. He owes some folks who aren't exactly... lawful.

I gazed at him. "What are their desires?"

"What Richard promised is what they desire."

"What was the promise he made?"

Ethan's expression hardened. "Your bakery. The home. Your name on a million-dollar land purchase. However, he never returned the money he had taken. They now demand payment from you instead.

My eyes were burning with tears. "I was unaware of all of this. Why didn't you inform me earlier?

"I made an effort," he said. However, you were in mourning. Additionally, I didn't want to break the news to you as you were saying goodbye.

That made me rather resentful of him. I hated myself more, though, for loving a guy who wore falsehoods like skin and for blindly trusting Richard.

"And the union?" I inquired. "Is that your answer?"

Ethan remarked, "It's the only way I can help you without making it worse." "They'll know you're related to me if I pay off your debts right away. That increases your risk. However, if we get married, I will be able to take legal control. I can bury it all. Keep you safe.

I gave him a look.

His gaze remained fixed.

"Are you acting remorseful lying?" I inquired.

"No."

"So why?"

He touched me with his hand. Gentle. Be cautious.

"I informed you. What happened to Richard was not my fault. But I will not repeat that error.

The room fell silent.

I didn't know what to say.

That night, I sat in my kitchen staring at the bakery receipts sprawled across the table. The stats didn't lie. The bakery was sinking, too. Late taxes. Payroll debt. Supplier fees.

Richard had said he would take care of it.

But he'd lied about everything.

My face fell into my hands.

I felt inadequate. A stupid. Furthermore, I had no idea how to handle all of this on my own.

Reaching for my phone, I dialed the bank.

I hung up, trembling, thirty minutes later.

The caller had been straightforward but icy.

The house would go into foreclosure if I didn't pay the next mortgage amount, which is **$9,800**, by the end of the week.

Additionally, the bakery would take over the building if I couldn't pay off their bills by the tenth.

There was no one else for me.

Not a family. No savings.

Just Ethan.

And that agreement.

I didn't get any sleep. I was barely breathing.

By dawn, I had decided on something.

Once more, I drove to his office. I didn't wait at the counter this time. I pushed the door open and entered.

In a meeting, he was.

I didn't give a damn.

As soon as I intervened, he glanced up. His group fell silent, perplexed.

I threw the contract of marriage upon the table.

I said, "I'll sign it."

His jaw muscle twitched.

He waited for the door to close behind them, stood slowly, and looked at the others to excuse them.

Then he approached me.

"Are you certain?" he inquired.

"No," I replied. "But there doesn't seem to be another way."

He gave a nod. "So we begin today."

Silently, we made our way to the courthouse.

My dress was black. His clothing was black.

It was less like a wedding and more like a burial.

No promises. There are no rings. Only signatures.

I signed mine with a hand that didn't stop shaking.

The cashier smiled and said, "Lila West-Cole." "Congratulations."

I didn't smile back.

Ethan didn't either.

We ventured outdoors into the blustery wind.

For me, he opened the car door.

I just stood there for a while.

"Why me?" I inquired.

He gave me an inscrutable glance.

He remarked, "You've always been the only one."

Then he climbed into the vehicle.

I did the same.

I sat in the center of Ethan's apartment later that evening. It smelled of power and cedarwood and was clean and chilly.

My name had changed.

A fresh start.

And a man I scarcely understood.

He poured me a drink and sat across from me.

"I'll fix everything tomorrow," he declared.

I muttered, "I don't want to be your debt."

He bent over. "You're not."

I forgot all about money, pain, and fear when I saw the blaze in his eyes. I saw only him for a moment.

He put his hand on my cheek. Only once.

"I'm not requesting affection," he declared. "Just have faith."

I gave a nod.

However, I was unsure if I had any left.

We each slept in a different room.

I wondered how quickly a life could fall apart as I curled up in silk sheets and stared at the ceiling.

How quickly a falsehood can destroy everything.

I heard my phone buzz in the quiet.

I took it off the bedside table.

**Unknown Number: "Marrying him was a mistake." **

My blood turned to ice.

One more buzz.

**"He didn't keep your husband alive. He sold him. **

With my chest thumping, I sat up straight.

One more message.

I sat motionless on the bed's edge. The texts were staring up at me from my phone, which I was still holding.

**"He didn't keep your husband alive. He sold him. ** ** "Ask Ethan about Richard's death night. He was there, not merely observing. **

My mouth became parched.

I glanced in the direction of the bedroom door, half expecting to see Ethan. A slight click caught my ear-his door opening? Or am I just deceiving myself?

With shaking fingers, I slid the phone under the pillow. I was unable to think clearly. My ears were ringing from the loud pounding of my heart in my chest.

I had to breathe.

I left the bedroom quietly and went down the marble corridor barefoot. Only city lights were visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, which was completely dark. The entire space seemed too spotless, too ideal, too strange.

I ended myself in the kitchen, pouring cold water into a glass. I didn't drink, but my lips did touch the rim.

I sensed being observed.

The hairs sprang up on the back of my neck.

Then his voice.

"You ought not to be awake."

I pivoted.

Ethan was standing in the corridor wearing dark jeans and no shirt. His eyes were dark in the low light, and his chest rose and fell gently.

I said, "I couldn't sleep." My voice faltered as I tried to sound composed.

His bare feet were silent on the floor as he approached me.

"Had bad dreams?" he inquired.

I gave a nod. "That kind of thing."

He looked down at my hand. I continued to hold the glass too tightly.

"Come," he said. "You need to sleep."

However, I remained motionless.

"Were you present when Richard passed away?" My voice was low as I asked.

He came to a halt.

His mouth tightened. His gaze grew gloomy.

"Why do you ask that?" he asked cautiously.

"I simply must know."

He took a step toward her.

He stated, "I was in the city." "During a meeting. I had no idea he was traveling that route.

I didn't think he was real.

I had no idea why. Perhaps it was the way his eyes averted. Perhaps it was the lengthy silence before he said anything. Or perhaps it was the text that was still blazing in my brain.

I responded, "He perished in the rain." He lost control, according to the police. But his remains were discovered distant from the scene of the collision. That was nonsensical.

At his sides, Ethan's hands clenched into fists.

"You believe I was involved in it?"

"I'm not sure what to think," I muttered.

He moved so near that I could smell his power, warm spice, and clean skin.

He said, "Lila, I didn't kill your husband."

However, you were aware of things. He used my name, as you knew. You were aware of the debts.

"Yes," he said. I also wanted to let you know. I made an effort. But each time I approached, he drew you more away.

He was being honest.

Or it was a lovely lie.

My mind was racing.

He touched me with his fingertips. "To keep you safe, I married you. I wouldn't have spoken if I meant to harm you.

I stared up at him, uncertain, terrified. and still attracted to him.

"Why are you acting in this way?" I repeated my question. "Why get married to me? Why take on my mess?

He raised his hand and cupped my face. His thumb moved slowly and gently across my cheek.

He explained, "Because I've loved you for years."

I gazed at him.

And I forgot the dread in that instant. the uncertainty. The falsehoods.

He gave me a kiss.

I didn't stop him either.

His lips took mine, softly at first, then more forcefully. He pulled me in as his hands sank into my hair. Something inside of me burst open as my body crushed against his.

I gave him a kiss in return.

In a desperate situation. Furious. wishing to forget everything.

His lips trailed fire down my neck as he pulled me onto the counter.

His hands seized my thighs and parted them as I let out a small sigh.

He muttered on my skin, "Tell me to stop."

I didn't.

His greedy, desperate mouth met my once more.

Between breaths, the clothes vanished. I dropped my nightgown to the ground. His trousers fell next to it.

I shouldn't have wanted it, but I did, because his skin on mine felt hot and dangerous.

He moved slowly and deeply inside me. He moved deftly, gripping my waist as if I were brittle.

I wasn't breaking, though.

I was on fire.

My fingernails penetrated his back. His groans blended with mine. I encircled him with my legs, demanding more, more quickly, more forcefully.

And I got it from him.

Until I was nothing but pulse, pleasure, and forgotten pain, we smashed together repeatedly.

I collapsed on his chest, out of breath, when it was over.

Without saying a word, he carried me to bed.

He stayed.

He remained with his arms wrapped around me and his warm breath on my shoulder.

I ought to have felt secure.

However, I didn't.

I bided my time till his breathing stabilized.

I then padded back to the kitchen after sneaking out of bed.

My phone was still there, hidden beneath the bowl of fruit.

A fresh message.

**Unknown Number: "Lila, he isn't your savior. Inspect his office's lockable drawer. There, the truth is concealed. **

My hand trembled.

Footsteps behind me, then.

Ethan's harsh, low voice.

"At this hour, what are you doing on your phone?"

I quickly whirled around, concealing the screen behind my back.

However, it was too late.

The flush on my face and the flicker of terror in my eyes were already visible to Ethan.

Lila's POV

I spent the remainder of the night awake.

Something in my chest remained rigid and terrified despite Ethan's tight grip and the promises his lips whispered on my skin.

I kept hearing that message in my thoughts.

** "Check his office's lockable drawer." **

His side of the bed was frigid in the morning. He had left.

The sheets curled around my legs as I slowly sat up. My mind was heavy, but my body was still tingling from what we did.

I made a lip-touch. They were still swollen. utilized.

Loved?

I had forgotten what it was.

There was silence in the room. I padded to the kitchen after getting up and putting on one of his shirts that was dangling from a chair. At 7:03 AM, the clock read. Outside, the city was already bustling.

However, it felt like a trap here.

While I stared at the corridor, I poured a cup of coffee. At the end was his office. Every time, the door shut. locked at all times.

What did he conceal?

Before I could continue, there was a harsh knock.

I sloshed coffee on the counter when I jumped.

At 7 a.m., who in heck was knocking?

My bare feet were silent on the floor as I cleaned my hands and made my way to the front door.

One more knock. More volume.

My heart leaped when I opened the door.

Wearing a black suit, Ethan stood there with his jaw clenched and his hair flawless.

In one hand, he held a little folder. and in the other a solitary crimson rose.

"Good morning," he murmured.

I gazed at him and then at the flower. "This early?"

Letting the door close behind him, he entered. His gaze trailed over me-his shirt hanging loose on my torso, my legs naked.

Heat curled in my belly.

"I enjoy this view," he said.

I couldn't help but smile even though I rolled my eyes.

"Why is the rose there?" I inquired.

He said, "For having courage." "And lovely."

He put it in the back of my ear. His fingertips lightly touched my cheek before slowly moving across my jaw. My knees became softer.

He then raised the folder.

"But this... this is serious."

I tightened. "What is it?"

He gave the couch a nod. "Let's have a seat."

We sat side by side, not touching. On my lap, he laid the folder.

I slowly opened it.

There were printed materials inside. My name. The name of Richard. figures. Dates. stamps.

"What is this?" I inquired.

Evidence of the debt. And another thing.

I turned the page. The name *Black stream Holdings* appeared.

Ethan remarked, "That is a shell firm." Richard came up with it three years prior. He borrowed money with it. in your name.

My breath caught as I gazed down at the papers.

He continued to speak. "I have been excavating. Silently. It's only a piece. I'm still working to unlock the accounts of the others.

My fingers were shaking. "What prevented you from showing me this earlier?"

"I wanted to keep you safe. I was unaware of its depth.

I glanced up at him. He had gentle eyes. It's true.

I still didn't have complete faith in it, though.

"You had the option to inform me," I muttered.

He made a move for my hand. kept it.

"I ought to have. "I was afraid," he said. I'm afraid you'd be upset with me for retaining it. I'm afraid you'll think I allowed him to do it.

I examined our hands.

Warm. Real. Tight.

Then he kissed my temple, leaning in.

"Lila, I'm not here to harm you. I'd like to make this right. If you don't mind,

I remained silent.

I didn't have to.

I leaned in close to him. I put my face against his chest. I felt his arms encircle me.

And I believed him for a second.

He touched my forehead with his lips. Slowly, his hands went down my back.

I raised my head-and we kissed once again.

This time, more slowly. Sweeter.

Warm and cautious, his lips seemed to be requesting permission with each kiss.

His hair entangled my fingers. Breathless, I straddled him as he dragged me into his lap.

The folder fell to the ground.

My body throbbed with longing as I felt him harden beneath me.

He whispered into my neck, "I missed you last night."

I answered softly, "I didn't know you went."

"I needed to meet with someone regarding the bills. However, I kept thinking about you.

His hands moved beneath his shirt, caressing exposed flesh. I arched my back. He teased me with his tongue and lips as he licked down my chest.

"I desire you," he declared.

I muttered, "You already have me."

I gave him everything, too.

On the couch, right there.

As we moved quickly and ravenously, bodies entangled, hands all over the place, the rose dropped to the ground.

After it was over, my head rested on his chest as we lay breathless, entangled in one another.

His phone buzzed on the table, though.

At first, he remained still. However, the screen became bright.

*Unknown Number*

He grabbed it.

All of a sudden, I sat up.

"Hold on," I said.

"What?" he questioned, phone in hand.

"That number..." I gestured toward the screen. "I've been receiving texts from the same person."

He stopped.

His eyes showed it to me.

Recognition.

Fear.

And guilt, which is terrible.

I took his phone. I opened the message.

** "I'll tell her if you won't." **

I looked over at him. "What did you not tell me?"

He didn't respond.

My heart pounded.

"Ethan?" I exerted force.

At last he spoke, softly, almost shattered lying.

"I should have said something from the start."

Then there was a knock on the door again.

Hard.

Out loud.

Immediate.

Both of us leaped.

With my heart racing, I wrapped the blanket about me. Ethan quickly got to his feet and put on his trousers.

The knocking went on.

A man in a dark coat was standing outside with a flash drive in his hand when I carefully opened the door.

He glanced across at Ethan.

"Mr. Cole," he referred to. "We must speak. Right now. She has a right to know the truth.

Without waiting, the man in the coat entered. He was so focused on Ethan that he didn't even look at me.

Holding up the flash disk, he declared, "This cannot wait." "You've already withheld it from her."

My fists tightened around the blanket as I stood there, bewildered.

"Who are you?" I inquired.

At last, the man turned to face me. He had short brown hair, a square jaw, and a scar that extended from the middle of his cheek to his ear. He had icy eyes.

"My name is Marcus. Richard and I collaborated. He returned his focus to Ethan. "And you."

Ethan tightened his jaw. "I promised to take care of this."

Marcus laughed. You've had months to tell the truth. Rather, you placed her in your bed and continued to tell her falsehoods.

"Stop!" Ethan yelled. "Avoid doing this here."

With my chest tense, I took a step forward. "What do you do?"

After giving me a quick glance, Marcus gave me the flash drive. "Everything is here. Records, messages, and emails. Before he distorts the facts, you deserve to see it.

Ethan combed his hair with his hand. "Lila, don't-"

"Don't what?" With a trembling voice, I snapped. Discover what my spouse was concealing? What were *you* concealing?

The room's air grew chilly.

Marcus walked over to the door. "Observe it. By themselves. After that, you'll know who to believe.

Without saying another thing, he departed.

The door closed with a click.

I gazed down at my palm's little flash drive as if it were a live bomb.

Ethan took a step forward. "Please, Lilia."

I retreated.

"You said you wanted to assist me. that I was loved by you.

"Yes, I do."

"So why do you fear what's on this?" I raised it. "What's in here that you couldn't tell me right away?"

His mouth opened, but he remained silent.

So I looked away. walked over to the coffee table and the laptop. I plugged it in.

"Whatever's in there-it's not the whole story," Ethan muttered behind me.

"Then take a seat," I said. "And while I see it, tell me the truth."

I opened the folder.

Dozens of files were present. I was drawn to one. Titled: **"Project Sandglass – Phase Two – Confidential"**

I clicked.

A video started.

Richard's visage filled the screen.

I gasped.

He looked exhausted. Older. Greyer than I remembered.

**"If you're viewing this, then I'm gone,"** his voice murmured, low and fast. **"And you probably realize something's wrong. Lila, if this reaches you, I'm sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt." **

My chest constricted.

**"I accepted the offer. This is not how I expected it to finish. Ethan warned me and tried to stop me, but I ignored him. I needed the cash. For you. For us. However, I made an error. **

My hands were shaking.

**"Debt wasn't the only issue at Black stream. It's a cover. For a worse thing. If Ethan shows you this, it implies he finally gave up defending me." **

The video ended.

As simple as that.

"What on earth was that?" I muttered.

Ethan didn't answer.

I turned to look at him. "What is Project Sandglass?"

His head was in his hands as he slumped onto the couch.

"Ethan!"

He looked up, his face pallid. It was a deal with the military. He sold off information, your husband. private information. Blackmail was being used against him. He made an attempt to repay it, but it was too late.

I blinked. "Richard betrayed his country?"

"No," he uttered rapidly. "Not in that manner. He was in a grave situation. Decoys were the intended use for the files. However, someone actually managed to get hold of them. Then they turned it against me as well as against him.

With shaky legs, I sat down.

"You were aware of this... and remained silent?"

"I wanted to keep you safe."

"By permitting me to develop feelings for you?"

He raised his head, his face etched with misery. "I didn't intend for that to occur. But it did. Lila, you are loved. I always have.

Tears pierced my eyes.

I didn't know what to trust.

I stared at the halted screen, Richard's frozen face like a ghost.

Suddenly-my phone buzzed.

A fresh message. Unknown figure.

**"Lila, you're next. Get the safe open. **

I went cold.

"What's safe?" I muttered.

Ethan got up slowly. "Oh no."

"Ethan, what's safe?" I raised my voice.

He turned to face the corridor. "The one in Richard's office that is behind the artwork."

I almost stumbled over the blanket as I ran up. hurried along the corridor. opened the door to the office.

First, I smelled something sharp, leather, and dust.

There was a painting of a mountain on the wall. I pulled it down.

Behind it-a little steel door. A keypad.

"I am clueless about the coding," I stated in frustration.

Suddenly, I had Ethan behind me.

"Yes, I do."

He extended his hand and typed:

**0-9-1-3-2-6**

The safe opened with a click.

There was a gun inside.

A little black handgun.

And below it... an envelope smeared with blood.

With trembling hands, I grabbed it and extracted it.

Richard wrote my name in his penmanship.

I took it open.

There was only one sentence inside:

**"Ethan was aware. From the beginning. Never put your trust in him. **

With the letter still in my hand, I cautiously turned to face Ethan.

He remained silent.

However, the expression in his eyes was not that of a man who loved me.