ANMELDEN
Morning.
Nadia Verne's eyes fluttered open, and her first sensation was a wave of soreness throughout her body. Instinctively, she looked down and realized she was completely bare, with even her underwear missing. She glanced around the room. She seemed to be the only one there. The bright red stains on the sheets and the scattered clothes of both a man and a woman on the floor told her everything she needed to know about the night before.
What on earth had happened?
She had only been a bridesmaid. How did it end up like this?
Her breath quickened as she shot up from the bed, cold sweat breaking out on her back. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and called her best friend, Sienna.
"You were so drunk last night you could not tell up from down, so I had no choice but to bring you to the suite the bride had prepared—room 2208. What's up?"
"Is there anyone else in the room besides me?"
"Who else could there be? It's just you. I have things to take care of right now. I'll call you back."
Nadia's hand dropped slowly as she closed her eyes, her mind swirling, a loud ringing echoing in her head.
"Get the clothes ready and send them to room 2210." A deep voice came from the direction of the bathroom.
There was another person in the room?
Startled, Nadia looked up. A man leaned casually against the bathroom doorframe, his toned body wrapped in a white bathrobe, one shoulder propped against the wood like he owned the air around him.
"Why are you here?" Her voice came out steadier than she felt.
Wasn't he the groomsman from yesterday's wedding?
Sienna had said she was the only one in the room. So how did he end up here?
"Well..." Caiden Wolfe appeared somewhat indifferent, a cold smirk playing on his lips as he watched her shock settle into something sharper. "Your acting skills are good enough to land you a role."
"What do you mean by that?" Nadia frowned.
Caiden narrowed his eyes, sizing her up slowly, his gaze turning icy. "First, you drew my attention. Then you sneaked into my room while I was drunk. I can't deny it—the whole setup was well-executed."
Nadia suppressed the heat rising in her chest, her expression going cold. "Are you sure you're not delusional? Maybe you should see a doctor."
The light in her eyes shifted dangerously. Caiden moved to the couch, crossed his long legs, and lit a cigarette.
"You'll be rewarded for your efforts. Since you put in so much work last night, you can have something in return. Tell me what you want."
"You're seriously delusional."
The smoke drifted toward her. Nadia coughed once, pulled the blanket tighter around herself, and asked, "What's your room number?"
Caiden shifted into a more comfortable position and looked at her with mild interest. "2210."
She picked up the room phone and dialed reception, putting it on speaker.
"Could you please tell me my room number?"
The front desk staff paused, briefly and politely bewildered. "Hello, dear guest. Your room number is 2208."
2208. Caiden's body stiffened, just slightly, just for a moment—quick enough that most people would have missed it.
*That damn Leo.*
Nadia's anxiety dissolved the instant the words came through the speaker. She set the phone down and looked at him.
"Mr. Wolfe." Her tone had completely changed—no longer uncertain, every word landing clean and deliberate. "How do you explain this? Your acting was impressive and the arrangements were very convenient. Don't you find it a little ridiculous?"
She stood straight and met his eyes. His sharp jawline gave him an almost chiseled appearance, a particular kind of masculine precision. But his eyes were deep and dangerous, the kind that made people feel a mix of unease and restlessness.
She held his gaze anyway.
"Shouldn't we avoid jumping to conclusions before everything is clear? I am the victim here, not you. Given your earlier remarks, don't you think you owe me an apology?"
She was still working out exactly what she would do if he refused—she was prepared to pursue it, whatever it took—when his voice cut through her thoughts.
"I'm sorry."
"What?"
Caiden extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, tilted his chin slightly, and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry. I was too drunk last night and ended up in the wrong room."
She had braced for a fight. The apology arrived instead, simple and without decoration, and making a scene now would only make her look unreasonable. That was never her style. She valued reason over conflict and she wasn't going to let this morning become a spectacle—not at Sienna's wedding.
There was nothing more to say. What had happened was an unchangeable reality. All she wanted now was to leave.
She grabbed her underwear, slipped under the covers, and quietly got dressed.
Caiden's gaze fell on the lump in the bed, squirming like a caterpillar under the sheets. A slight smile crossed his lips. "What do you do for a living?"
The squirming paused. Her voice came out muffled. "I'm a teacher."
"I see. When you called the front desk earlier, you seemed unsure about who was at fault. But once you had your answer, that demanding tone was very much like a teacher handling a student who had misbehaved."
His eyes stayed on the blanket. Nadia said nothing and moved faster.
When she finally came out from under the covers, her cheeks were flushed and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. As her feet touched the floor her legs wobbled—she caught herself against the bed, and her eyes landed on the red stain on the white sheet.
She went still.
The contrast was stark. Jarring. Real.
Caiden followed her gaze. His expression stayed lazy, almost indifferent. "Since this was my fault, I'll make amends. Feel free to name what you want." He paused, studying her. "Reconstructing your hymen is something I can certainly arrange."
Nadia held her breath. Her chest rose and fell. Through her teeth, she said one word.
"Pervert."
She strode toward the door, nearly out of the suite, when his hand caught her wrist from behind.
"Is there something else?" She turned, anger clear in her eyes.
"Take the emergency contraceptive."
A man in a sharp suit knocked, received permission, and walked in. He set down the clothes and a small pharmacy bag without making eye contact.
Taking the contraceptive after a night like this was basic sense. Even if Caiden hadn't sent his assistant for it, she would have picked it up herself once she got home. Since it was already here, there was no reason to refuse.
She followed the instructions, took it, then walked to the door and stopped.
She turned around, and there was something almost amused in her voice when she spoke.
"Does your charm rival a superstar's, Mr. Wolfe? Or does it simply outshine money?" She tilted her head slightly. "You are charming—but aren't you a little overconfident?"
Caiden paused. His long fingers stilled on the button of his shirt. For the first time in recent memory, he had absolutely nothing to say.
After a moment his gaze deepened. With unhurried ease, he finished buttoning his shirt, the dark silk catching the morning light, and said nothing at all.
Nadia was already gone.
Caiden was standing by the desk when she walked in, an untouched glass of wine resting near his hand, his eyes fixed on his laptop screen with a intense, motionless focus."You read Leo's message," she said, stopping at the threshold."Two minutes ago," he said, turning the laptop toward her. "He sent the document scan along with it."Nadia crossed the room and leaned over his shoulder.The screen showed an old, faded application, the paper discolored in a way that meant it had spent decades buried in a filing box somewhere long before digital archives existed.The heading read:Wolfe Meridian Corp — Preliminary Application — Renewable Infrastructure Systems.Inventor: Harlan J. Wolfe.Date: August 1994."This doesn't match the other patents," Nadia said, skimming the technical summary. "The first three were communications and core tech. This is—""Clean energy systems," Caiden said. "Grid-level renewable infrastructure. He filed this in 1994, before the industry even had a framework
She told her mother about the letters two days later, choosing her words carefully as they spoke on the phone.Her mother was quiet for a long moment after Nadia finished explaining what the chaplain had written."He's writing to me," her mother said finally, her voice low. "Letters he isn't sending.""An accounting, the chaplain called it," Nadia said. "In his own words. He said you'd understand."Silence stretched across the line.Nadia waited, resisting the urge to fill the pause, giving her mother room to sit with the news."I do understand," her mother said eventually. "It’s what people do when they finally grasp the weight of what they took and have no way left to return it. They write it down. Not for absolution. Just so it exists outside their own head."She took a slow, steadying breath."Roland was never capable of seeing himself clearly while he held power. It seems a cell has given him what nothing else could.""Do you want to read them?" Nadia asked softly. "If he ever of
"Tell me," Caiden said. They were in the study, Harlowe asleep upstairs, the October evening settling into full dark outside the windows. Nadia sat across from him with the message still open on her phone. "I want to submit a victim impact statement," she said. "Not attend in person. I have no interest in sitting in the same room as him again. But I want the court to have something on record from me." Caiden set his glass down, watching her with that focused, deliberate attention that meant he was processing every word. "What do you want to tell them?" "That he spent thirty years treating people like chess pieces," Nadia said, the words coming clearly now, shaped by days of quiet thought. "My mother. David Carver. Me. Even you—he saw an opportunity in a marriage he didn't build and tried to use it as a weapon. He never once calculated the human cost. I want the judge to see that the financial fraud isn't the whole story. The real story is a lifetime of using people until they br
Monday morning brought the technology team's first full briefing on the extended patent strategy.Nadia, four weeks postpartum and finally sleeping in four-hour stretches, stood by the bedroom mirror adjusting her blazer.Caiden leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a quiet, deliberate focus."You don't have to do this yet.""I know I don't have to," she said, catching his eye in the glass. "I want to.""Harlowe is four weeks old.""Harlowe is asleep downstairs with Mrs. Park, Leo is in the driveway, and you're within arm's reach," Nadia replied, turning around. "This company is part of my daughter's inheritance. I'd like to understand it properly, not secondhand."Caiden looked at her for a long beat, his expression shifting as he recalibrated."You're right," he said softly. "I apologize.""Don't apologize," she said, stepping toward him. "Just stop assuming I want to be shielded from the work."He nodded, a faint trace of a smile touching his mouth."Noted."The meeting i
Nadia woke before her alarm, before Harlowe, before the house had started its morning sounds.She lay still in the grey light, looking up at the ceiling.Yesterday’s call with Roland still echoed in the back of her mind, but downstairs, the quiet hum of the estate’s early routine was already taking over.She got up, showered, and chose her clothes carefully.Today deserved care.Caiden was already at the kitchen island when she came down, black coffee in hand.Cullen sat across from him, leaning over a piece of toast."She said ten," Nadia said, checking her phone screen."It's eight-fifteen," Caiden replied."I know what time it is."Caiden set a fresh cup of tea in front of her.Cullen looked up."I've prepared an agenda.""No, you haven't," Nadia said."I haven't," he admitted. "But I have opinions about how the morning should go.""No one asked," Caiden said without looking up from his tablet."I'm offering them anyway," Cullen said, leaning back. "This is a moment. Harlowe's gran
Friday afternoon, the day before her mother was due to visit, Nadia's phone rang while she was putting Harlowe down in the nursery.The screen displayed an unknown number with an area code she recognized immediately—the county housing the facility processing Roland's plea agreement.She watched it ring twice before swiping to answer."Nadia Wolfe?" A man's voice, clipped and formal. "This is the facility's communications officer. Roland Verne has requested a monitored call with you. All calls are recorded and may be terminated at any time. Do you consent?"Nadia stood motionless in the sunlight filtering through the east window.She looked back toward the crib, hearing the soft, steady rhythm of her daughter's breathing."Yes," Nadia said. "I consent. But I want my husband on the line.""One moment."She walked quickly out into the corridor and called down the hall.Caiden appeared seconds later.One look at her face and his expression hardened.He took two long strides, reaching her
The second Nadia stepped out of the hotel, the cold bit straight through her scarf. She paused at the top step, her boots planted in place as she tried to make sense of the mess in her head.Calling it bad luck felt ridiculous. She had shown up to her best friend's wedding looking for a night of ce
Nadia stumbled back two steps before she managed to catch her balance.The car window was already gliding down smooth and silent. She froze on the pavement because, out of all the black Bentleys in the city, of course it had to be his.Caiden barely glanced her way before his attention shifted to C
Caiden looked at her with the same cool patience he probably applied to difficult board meetings. "So," he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers. "What is your final answer, Miss Verne?""Still no," she said, making sure every word landed.He studied her for a long, quiet moment. There was no flash
Nadia was up at six.Outside, it was still pitch black—the kind of freezing winter morning where just stepping out from under the duvet felt like a punishment. She stood by the window, wrapping both hands around a mug of warm water, watching the bare tree branches whip around in the wind. Christmas







