Elena's fingers trembled as she picked up the flash drive, its cold metal casing biting into her palm like a warning. The black ribbon wrapped around it wasn't just decorative—it was deliberate.
Symbolic.
Like a funeral.
For trust.For safety.
For the illusion that she was in control.
She closed the bedroom door softly behind her and returned to her desk, the silence around her growing impossibly thick. The digital clock on her nightstand blinked: 3:17 a.m.
Everyone was asleep.
Everyone but her.
Plugging the flash drive into her laptop felt like pulling a pin from a grenade. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then clicked open the only file it contained.
"Subject: The Truth You Were Never Supposed to See"
Her eyes narrowed.
There were multiple folders—each labeled by date and location. Some stretched back years. Shanghai. Seoul. Dubai. Chicago.
And at the center of it all: "Blake Industries: Project H."
She opened the folder.
Inside were scanned documents, internal memos, spreadsheets, even audio recordings. The deeper she scrolled, the more Elena realized the truth was far worse than she'd imagined.
Project Horizon wasn't just a defense innovation plan.
It was a front.
A massive laundering scheme to funnel government contracts into shell corporations—all tied to Vincent Arcland and a handful of Blake's international partners. And at the edge of one document, highlighted in red:
"Phase 5: Leverage the CEO through marital ties. Control becomes absolute."
Elena's breath caught.
They were never just targeting Blake Industries.
They had targeted her.
Her marriage.
Her existence in Lucien's life.
A chill spidered down her spine.
"Leverage the CEO…" she whispered. "That's why they needed me."
Her phone, previously dead, suddenly lit up.
Incoming call: UNKNOWN
She hesitated.
Then answered.
"Elena," a voice rasped. Masked. Male. Calm. "You weren't supposed to find that yet."
Her skin prickled. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" the voice replied smoothly. "You opened the door. Now you need to decide: Will you walk through it—or slam it shut and pretend you saw nothing?"
Elena's jaw tightened. "I don't respond well to threats."
"This isn't a threat, Mrs. Blake," he said. "It's a courtesy. There are powers in this world even Lucien can't protect you from. Be careful what truths you chase."
Then the call ended.
Just like that.
No trace. No number.
No doubt: She was being watched.
When Lucien returned from Shanghai later that morning, Elena was waiting in his office at home.
She stood as he entered, laptop already open on the coffee table. Her eyes were resolute, her back straight—but he could sense the weight pressing on her shoulders.
"Elena," he said slowly. "What happened?"
"I know what Project Horizon really is," she said bluntly. "And I know why they wanted me married to you."
Lucien froze.
He moved forward, shutting the door quietly. "You saw something."
She nodded. "Someone left me a flash drive."
For a moment, Lucien didn't say anything.
Then he sat beside her. "Show me."
The next hour passed in silence as they reviewed everything—document by document, audio file by audio file. Elena watched as the hard lines of Lucien's face grew sharper, darker.
He didn't look surprised.
Not entirely.
"You knew," she whispered. "Didn't you?"
Lucien exhaled. "I suspected. There were inconsistencies… missing funds, irregular patterns. But every time I got close to the truth, things got buried. People disappeared."
His hand clenched into a fist. "They were trying to make me a puppet. And you… you were the bait."
Elena's chest tightened.
"So… did you ever—" Her voice broke. "Did you ever think I was part of it?"
Lucien turned to her, eyes blazing. "Never."
She searched his face for any hesitation. "Not even for a second?"
"Not even for a heartbeat," he said firmly. "I didn't marry you for love, Elena. But I never doubted your integrity."
Tears welled in her eyes.
Because despite everything, she wanted—needed—to believe him.
And more than that, she did.
Later that day, Camille joined them, her expression unreadable as she scanned the files Elena had found.
"Whoever gave this to you," Camille said slowly, "they're either incredibly brave… or completely unhinged."
"I think they're both," Elena replied.
Camille nodded. "We're dealing with something bigger than corporate sabotage. This is a global operation. And they've embedded themselves inside multiple agencies."
"Then we're not just fighting for Blake Industries," Lucien said. "We're fighting for everything we've built."
Elena looked between them. "So what's the next move?"
Camille smiled grimly. "We play the game. Publicly, nothing changes. But privately? We build a war room. A team we can trust."
Lucien added, "And we find the mole inside this house. The one who took that photo of me asleep."
Elena flinched at the memory.
"I want everyone questioned," Lucien said. "Every fingerprint scanned. Every electronic device swept. No one is above suspicion."
"Even your staff?" Camille asked.
Lucien's voice was cold. "Especially mine."
That night, Elena sat alone in the garden with a blanket around her shoulders. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but her thoughts were far away.
Lucien stepped out quietly and sat beside her. He handed her a mug of warm chamomile tea.
"I never wanted you in this," he said after a while. "I thought I could keep the darkness away. Protect you from it."
"I'm not made of glass, Lucien," she replied. "You keep forgetting that."
He smiled faintly. "No. I'm just afraid the glass is all that's left of me."
She turned to him. "That's not true."
He met her gaze, and for the first time in a long while, his defenses lowered. Just a little.
"Then tell me what's left of me, Elena."
She reached for his hand. "A man who built an empire from nothing. A man who fights quietly but fiercely. A man who's learning—slowly—that love isn't a weakness."
Lucien's lips parted, but no words came.
Instead, he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles—softly. Reverently.
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he whispered.
"You won't," she said. "Because we're going to fight this together."
And for once… Lucien believed her.
Not because it was convenient.
But because Elena Blake had become more than a wife.
She was his anchor.
His shield.
And maybe, just maybe—his salvation.