Chapter 3 - Shadows in the West Wing
The increased security wasn't just a mild inconvenience; it felt like a cage tightening around my neck. Everywhere I turned on the estate, men in dark suits watched my movements with stern, unblinking eyes. I couldn't even read a book on the terrace without a guard standing ten paces away, his hand hovering near his communications earpiece.
I knew Ethan’s sudden protectiveness wasn't born out of sudden affection. Men in our world didn't change their entire philosophy on human collateral overnight simply because they woke up feeling romantic. Something massive was shifting in the criminal underworld, and I was dead center in the crosshairs.
Determined to find answers, I decided to break the absolute cardinal rule of our marriage. I was going to cross the threshold into the west wing.
It was past midnight when I slipped out of my bedroom, wearing a dark silk robe that muffled my footsteps against the Persian rugs. The east wing bled seamlessly into the central gallery, but the heavy oak doors leading to the west wing were always locked from the inside. Tonight, however, lady luck was on my side. One of the night guards had left the side service door slightly unlatched while stepping out for a cigarette.
I slipped through the gap into the dimly lit corridor of the west wing. The air here felt heavier, smelling faintly of expensive bourbon, old leather, and cedarwood. Paintings of past Carter patriarchs stared down at me with stern, judgmental eyes from the darkened walls.
I crept silently toward Ethan’s private study at the far end of the hall. A thin strip of golden light spilled out from beneath the heavy door, accompanied by the low, rumbling murmur of voices.
"...the package has been intercepted, Boss," Brian was saying inside, his voice tense with suppressed panic. "The Russo family knows about the South Side shipments. They traced the financial routing back to the wedding registry accounts."
My breath caught in my throat. I pressed my ear gently against the cold wood of the door, holding my breath so I wouldn't make a sound.
"They didn't just trace the accounts," Ethan’s voice rang out, cold, razor-sharp, and dripping with controlled fury. "They tracked the primary encryption key. And they know Jane’s signature was used to authorize the shell transfers."
Silence stretched inside the study for a long, agonizing moment.
"If the Russos realize Jane’s identity was tied to the stolen millions without her knowledge," Brian warned cautiously, "they won't just try to leverage her. They’ll eliminate her to cut off our financial pipeline. A public hit, right during her charity events."
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. The realization hit me like a physical blow to the chest. Ethan hadn't married me just to control my father’s territory. He had used my name and signature—without my knowledge—as a decoy shield to hide his massive financial laundering operation from the Russo family.
I wasn't just a trophy wife. I was the bait in a deadly game of Russian roulette, and the trigger was about to be pulled.
"Double the detail around her," Ethan commanded, his voice suddenly thick with an emotion I had never heard from him before—raw, naked terror. "I don't care if she hates me for it. I don't care if she thinks I'm a tyrant. If a single hair on her head is harmed, I want the entire Russo bloodline wiped off the map before sunrise. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Boss," Brian replied quietly. "Are you going to tell her the truth?"
"No," Ethan said, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "She already despises me for trapping her in this life. If she knows the Russos are hunting her because of my war, she’ll never forgive me. Let her hate me, as long as she breathes."
Tears pricked hot and fast behind my eyelids. The man standing on the other side of that door, the cold syndicate boss who supposedly viewed me as nothing more than breeding stock, was currently tearing his own world apart to keep me alive.
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Before I could process the tidal wave of conflicting emotions crashing over me, a heavy hand gripped my shoulder from behind in the dim hallway.
I gasped, whirling around, only to find myself staring directly into Ethan’s piercing, wide gray eyes.
