Chapter 7
Adrian tried to speak to the guests.
That was his instinct.
Control the room.
Rename the truth.
Make Isabella seem reckless.
“This is a private matter,” he said, breath uneven but voice still sharp. “My fiancée is unwell.”
A murmur moved through the pews.
Fiancée.
Not bride.
Not victim.
Unwell.
Not harmed.
Isabella looked at him with something close to pity.
He was still using old tools in a room where they had stopped working.
Detective Reed said, “Do not address her.”
Adrian turned his head.
“You have no idea who you’re interfering with.”
Reed’s expression did not change.
“I know exactly who is restrained in my custody right now.”
No arrest was announced.
No handcuffs flashed dramatically.
No one dragged Adrian away.
That made the moment worse for him.
He was still there.
Still visible.
Still forced to stand inside the silence his own choices created.
Several powerful guests near the front refused to meet his eyes after Isabella mentioned money.
That told her something.
Not everything.
But enough.
Some knew pieces.
Some suspected.
Some had benefited from not asking.
Adrian noticed their refusal too.
His face tightened.
Isabella lowered the USB slightly, but kept it visible.
“The final file is about your money.”
The sentence did not explain the conspiracy.
It only opened the door.
And everyone important in the room suddenly became aware there might be a hallway behind it.
Adrian looked at the USB drive.
Then at the guests.
Then back at Isabella.
For the first time, he seemed unsure whether she was the one exposed.
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Or he was.
Read the full story 👉 Adrian tried to call Isabella unwell, but the guests’ reaction to the word money made his panic visible.
