Chapter 6 - The Ghost in the ArchivesWhile the estate slept, I slipped out of the master guest suite and navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Vale Mansion toward the private library.
Sebastian had given me a temporary security pass, but the digital logs would undoubtedly alert him. I didn't care. Jonathan Vale had dropped a hint during our dinner—a subtle reference to how the family had handled corporate dissent and inconvenient marriages for generations. If there was a weakness in the patriarch's armor, it was buried in the family archives.
The library was cavernous, smelling of old leather, wood smoke, and centuries of hidden secrets. Rows of mahogany bookshelves stretched into the shadows.
I bypassed the general literature and headed straight for the restricted floor-to-ceiling vault behind the historian's desk. The biometric scanner required a Vale imprint, but Sebastian had configured my temporary pass with override privileges. I pressed my palm against the glass scanner.
Access Granted.
The heavy steel door hissed open, revealing rows of climate-controlled filing cabinets containing private family ledgers dating back to the nineteenth century. I pulled open drawer after drawer, scanning names, dates, and financial transfers.
Then I found a file labeled simply: VALE-MERCER CONTINGENCY.
My hands trembled as I pulled out the manila folder. Inside were not corporate documents, but personal surveillance reports, medical records, and adoption clearances. My breath caught in my throat as I read a confidential memo dated five years ago—written before Sebastian and I had even married.
It detailed how Jonathan Vale had orchestrated our entire relationship.
The chance meeting at the art gallery, the sudden job offer Sebastian had received in my neighborhood, the romantic dinners—every single milestone had been engineered by the patriarch to trap Sebastian into a controlled marriage, and then engineered to tear it apart when I proved too independent to manipulate.
Even worse, a secondary document revealed that Daniel Mercer had not merely intercepted my pregnancy letters; he had been ordered to prepare a falsified adoption dossier in case I refused to surrender the triplets at birth.
"Looking for bedtime reading?"
May you like
Sebastian’s voice echoed softly from the vault entrance. He leaned against the doorframe, shadows playing across his sharp jawline, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"Your grandfather didn't just ruin our marriage, Sebastian," I whispered, holding up the file with trembling fingers. "He engineered every single second of it. He planned to take my children before they were even born."
