MY HUSBAND PLANNED TO STEAL MY WEDDING GIFT—BUT HIS MOTHER MADE ONE MISTAKE: SHE THOUGHT MY FAMILY WAS POOR.

“Dad, what does Whitmore Aerospace have to do with Grayson?””

I stood beside the hotel elevator, gripping my phone.

My father didn't answer immediately.

In the background, I heard the familiar sound of his office door closing.

“Claire, are you somewhere private?””

“Yes.””

“Good. Don't discuss this with your husband until we've spoken.””

My stomach tightened.

“Why?””

“Because I don't want you making a decision without knowing the entire situation.””

I glanced toward the restaurant.

Through the glass doors, I could see Grayson speaking to his mother. He was gesturing with one hand, probably explaining why his new wife had suddenly become difficult.

“Dad, please. Just tell me.””

He exhaled.

“Whitmore Aerospace used to be one of our subcontractors. Several years ago, they lost a major government contract after an internal financial investigation.””

I leaned against the wall.

“What kind of investigation?””

“Misreported assets. Suspicious property transfers. Several directors were questioned.””

“Was Grayson involved?””

“Not at the time. But his father was.””

I remembered Grayson telling me that his father had died when he was young.

He had always described him as a successful businessman who left behind a complicated estate.

“Dad, Grayson told me his father passed away fifteen years ago.””

“That's true. But his business records didn't disappear with him.””

A cold sensation moved through my chest.

“Why didn't you tell me?””

“Because I didn't know you were dating a Whitmore. You introduced him to me as Gray.””

I swallowed.

“What do you know about Lorna?””

My father paused.

“Enough to know you should be careful.””

I heard footsteps approaching.

“Dad, I have to go.””

“Claire?””

“Yes?””

“Don't sign anything. Don't hand over any documents. And don't let anyone convince you that your name on that apartment is just a formality.””

The elevator doors opened.

Grayson stood inside.

His smile was tight.

“There you are.””

I ended the call.

He stepped into the corridor.

“Who were you talking to?””

“My father.””

His jaw moved slightly.

“About what?””

“Family.””

He stared at me for a moment.

Then he smiled again.

“Come on. Mum is waiting.””

I didn't move.

“Grayson, why did you request information about the apartment's ownership three days before our wedding?””

His expression froze.

Only for a second.

Then he laughed.

“That's what this is about?””

“It's a simple question.””

“I was arranging the insurance.””

“The inquiry was about ownership records.””

He rubbed his forehead.

“Claire, property law is complicated. You wouldn't understand all the paperwork.””

I almost admired how quickly he had returned to the same old trick.

Make me feel ignorant.

Make me doubt myself.

Then offer to handle everything.

“Try explaining it anyway,” I said.

His eyes narrowed.

“Not here.””

“Why not?””

“Because I don't want to embarrass you.””

There it was.

The threat disguised as concern.

He stepped closer.

“Listen carefully. My mother has been welcoming you into this family. She doesn't deserve to be treated like an enemy because you misunderstood a document.””

“I haven't misunderstood anything.””

His phone vibrated.

He glanced at the screen.

The name displayed was LORNA.

He rejected the call.

Then he looked at me.

“Let's go home.””

I followed him back toward the restaurant, but I no longer felt like a bride returning to her wedding brunch.

I felt like someone walking into a room full of people who had already decided how her life would end.

At 1:30 that afternoon, we arrived at Lorna's mansion.

She was waiting in the entrance hall.

Her arms were crossed.

“Finally,” she said.

“I thought you'd decided to abandon your husband on your first day.””

Grayson put his hand on my back.

“She's had a difficult morning.””

Lorna gave me a look.

“Marriage isn't supposed to be easy for women who insist on having everything their own way.””

I removed my coat.

“Where would you like me to put this?””

She pointed toward a small chair near the staircase.

“Over there. The staff will deal with it.””

I placed it on the chair.

A housekeeper approached with a tray.

“Would you like some tea, Mrs. Whitmore?””

“Thank you. That would be lovely.””

Lorna turned sharply.

“She's not staying long enough to need refreshments.””

The housekeeper lowered her eyes.

I looked at her.

“Tea would be wonderful, thank you.””

She nodded and disappeared.

Lorna stared at me as if I had deliberately insulted her.

“Come into the sitting room. We need to settle a few matters.””

Grayson followed us.

On the coffee table sat a thick folder.

My name was printed on the cover.

I recognized the apartment's address.

“What is that?””

Lorna opened the folder.

“Administrative paperwork. Grayson has prepared everything. We simply need your signature.””

I didn't touch it.

“What kind of paperwork?””

“Property management authorization,” Grayson replied.

I opened the first page.

It was not an ordinary management authorization.

It granted Grayson extensive authority to transfer, lease, refinance, and otherwise dispose of the apartment without further approval from me.

I read it twice.

Then I looked up.

“You want me to sign away control of my apartment?””

Grayson sighed.

“That's not what it says.””

“Then explain this paragraph.””

Lorna snatched the folder.

“Don't be dramatic. He's your husband.””

“And?””

“And married people share things.””

I nodded slowly.

“Then perhaps you should put your own house in my name.””

Her face turned crimson.

“Excuse me?””

“If sharing property is so important, let's start with yours.””

Grayson stepped between us.

“Enough!””

His voice echoed through the room.

He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.

Not love.

Not disappointment.

Anger.

“Why are you making this so complicated?””

I closed the folder.

“Because I can read.””

Lorna rose.

“You ungrateful little—”

“Mother!””

He stopped her.

Then he turned toward me and lowered his voice.

“Claire, go upstairs. We'll discuss this when you're calmer.””

I picked up my handbag.

“I'm leaving.””

“Where?””

“Home.””

He laughed without humor.

“This is your home.””

I looked around the enormous room.

At the expensive furniture.

At the family portraits.

At the woman who had spent two years making sure I knew I didn't belong.

“No, Grayson. It's your mother's house.””

I walked toward the entrance.

He followed me.

“Claire, don't walk away from me!””

I turned at the doorway.

“You're right about one thing, Grayson.””

He stopped.

“We do need to discuss something.””

His face relaxed slightly.

“What?””

I smiled.

“The apartment.””

Then I left.

Outside, my phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number appeared.

*Mrs. Whitmore, my name is Daniel Reeves. I used to work for your husband's family. I believe you need to know what happened to his previous fiancée.*

I read it twice.

Then another message arrived.

*She also owned a property that Grayson wanted. She disappeared from his life after signing a document.*

I stood beside my car, unable to move.