Emily had uncovered fragments of Leonard's past, including the truth about Isabella Qin—the woman he once loved, and lost under suspicious circumstances. In the files, a signature caught Emily's attention. It belonged to someone she knew, someone who was still present in their lives. Before she could probe further, Leonard stopped her, warning her to stay out of it. But Emily could no longer ignore the shadow looming over their marriage, or the danger that came with it.
The mansion's corridors stretched endlessly under the hush of midnight. Emily lay awake in the grand bed, staring at the ceiling as the words burned into her mind: the name in the file.
She turned to the side, glancing at Leonard. He was lying with his back to her, shoulders rigid even in sleep. If he was asleep at all. His breathing was too controlled, too steady, like a man pretending rest while keeping his walls intact.
Emily pressed her lips together. She couldn't ask him again, not now. The warning in his eyes still lingered like a ghost on her skin.
But the name. That signature.
It was Adrian Chen.
Leonard's personal lawyer. The man who had attended their wedding, who had toasted to their union with charming ease, who had smiled kindly at Emily and assured her that Leonard would protect her no matter what.
Her stomach twisted. Adrian was practically family—trusted, loyal, ever at Leonard's side. But if his name was tied to Isabella's death…
Emily couldn't breathe.
The walls of the mansion closed in around her, the silence suffocating. She had to know.
The next morning, Leonard left early, his schedule swallowed by meetings. Emily pretended to busy herself with household routines, but the truth was, her mind had only one goal.
She needed to confront Adrian.
When the chance came, she took it. Adrian arrived that afternoon to deliver documents, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor. He greeted her with his usual warmth, his smile too perfect, his posture relaxed.
"Mrs. Lu," he said smoothly, bowing his head. "I trust you're settling well into the mansion?"
Emily forced a smile. "I'm managing. Would you join me for tea? Leonard isn't here, but… I'd appreciate some company."
His brows lifted slightly, but he nodded. "Of course."
They sat in the sunlit lounge, a tray of porcelain teacups between them. Emily watched him closely as he stirred his tea, the silver spoon clinking softly. His movements were precise, unhurried, as if nothing in the world could disturb his calm.
She wondered if he had signed Isabella Qin's death warrant with the same composure.
"So," Emily began, her tone light. "You've known Leonard for a long time."
"Since university," Adrian replied easily, his lips curving. "We were friends before I became his lawyer. Few people know him as I do."
Her heart skipped. Few people, indeed.
"And Isabella?" she asked, feigning casual interest, though her hands tightened on the teacup. "Did you… know her too?"
The spoon stilled. For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered—not with shock, but with recognition. Then, just as quickly, the mask returned.
"I'd heard of her," Adrian said smoothly. "But I didn't know her personally."
Emily's breath caught. It was too rehearsed. Too quick.
"Strange," she murmured, tilting her head. "Because I came across some documents. Your name was on them."
The silence was palpable. The spoon clinked against the cup as Adrian set it down, his movements deliberate. He leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a smile that no longer reached his eyes.
"You've been looking through things you shouldn't," he said softly. "Leonard wouldn't be pleased."
Her blood chilled.
"Why was your name there?" she demanded, her voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of her question.
Adrian's gaze lingered on her, sharp and assessing. Then he chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "You're braver than I thought, Mrs. Lu. But bravery can be dangerous."
Her chest tightened. "Answer me."
Adrian rose smoothly to his feet, towering over her. His shadow fell across the sunlit room, darkening it. He leaned down, his voice low near her ear.
"Some truths, Emily, are far worse than lies. If you truly care for Leonard… stay away from this. Curiosity killed more than cats."
With that, he straightened, his smile perfectly in place once more. "Do send Leonard my regards."
And then he was gone.
Emily sat frozen, her heart pounding against her ribs. His words hadn't been a denial. If anything, they were an admission. A warning.
Adrian Chen was connected to Isabella Qin's death.
But was he the architect—or another pawn in someone else's game?
That night, when Leonard returned, Emily studied him in silence. He moved with his usual controlled precision, discarding his jacket, loosening his tie. But there was a heaviness to his steps, a weariness in his eyes that betrayed the cracks in his armor.
She wanted to tell him what Adrian had said. She wanted to scream the truth she had uncovered. But fear gripped her. Fear of losing his trust. Fear of what it would mean if Adrian truly was involved.
Instead, she whispered, "Leonard… do you ever wonder if the people closest to you are the ones most capable of betrayal?"
He paused, his back to her, then turned slowly. His gaze locked onto hers, searching, piercing.
"All the time," he said quietly.
The weight of his words settled over her like chains.
Days passed, but the unease didn't fade. Emily found herself glancing over her shoulder, listening for whispers in the corridors, scrutinizing every look Adrian gave her, every word he spoke.
And then came the letter.
It arrived in an unmarked envelope, slipped under her bedroom door in the dead of night. No sender, no seal. Just a folded piece of paper with words scrawled in jagged ink:
"Ask Leonard what really happened the night Isabella Qin died. He won't tell you. But I will."
Below the words, a time and place.
Emily's hands shook as she clutched the paper.
Someone wanted her to know the truth. Someone besides Adrian.
But could she trust them?
She glanced at Leonard, sleeping soundly beside her, his face serene in the moonlight. For the first time, she realized she wasn't just afraid of losing him.
She was afraid of what she might discover if she truly knew him.