Bound to my Rival

Chapter Ten

I woke before Adrian.

For several seconds, I stayed still, listening to the quiet rhythm of his breathing beside me.

The room looked exactly as it always had in the early morning. Pale light slipped through the curtains. Adrian’s clothes from the night before were still lying where he had dropped them. Nothing appeared different.

But everything was.

My father’s letter was hidden beneath the lining of my robe, folded small enough that I could feel its edges against my skin.

I had read it so many times during the night that I knew every word.

Your greatest weakness will never be the people who oppose you.

It will be the person you trust enough to stop protecting yourself from.

I had spent years believing my father meant people like Roman. Rivals. Enemies. Those who wanted what belonged to our family.

Now I wondered whether he had known exactly who would betray me.

Adrian stirred.

I immediately closed my eyes.

His hand moved across the mattress, searching for me, and settled against my waist.

“You’re awake,” he murmured.

“Barely.”

He smiled against my shoulder before pulling me closer.

The gesture should have felt familiar.

Instead, I thought about forged signatures. False transfers.

Darius.

And the fact that someone had taken an agreement protected by my father’s seal and tried to create a version that would make it appear as though I had willingly surrendered my own territory.

I forced myself to relax. Adrian couldn’t know. Not yet.

When he finally left for the day, I waited until his car had disappeared beyond the gates before going to the study.

Marcus was already there. He closed the door behind me.

“You found something,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

I placed my phone on the desk and showed him the photographs I had taken in my father’s archive. His expression changed as he scrolled through them.

“This is the original?”

“Yes.”

He studied the page again.

“Then the transfer Adrian has is completely fraudulent.”

“I know.”

“The signature?”

“Mine. Or someone who copied it almost perfectly.”

Marcus looked troubled.

“Then whoever prepared the forged document had access to your signature.”

“I’ve signed hundreds of documents.”

“Not like this.” He enlarged the image. “Look at the pressure points. Whoever copied it had access to several originals.”

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

“Could Adrian have done it himself?”

“He could have arranged it.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Marcus hesitated.

“No. I don’t think Adrian prepared it personally.”

I leaned against the desk.

“Why?”

“Because whoever did this understood council procedure.”

He opened one of the files he had brought with him.

“The missing seal isn’t an accident. Whoever created the false agreement knew it would eventually need council authentication. They prepared everything except the final step.”

“Darius.”

Marcus nodded slowly.

“That’s what I thought.”

I looked down at the documents. My father’s trusted adviser.

A man who had attended family meetings when I was young. A man who had advised my father on territorial disputes. A man I had once trusted without question.

My father’s warning pressed against my thoughts.

“Find me everything connecting Darius to Adrian’s investment company,” I said.

Marcus looked at me carefully.

“How far do you want me to go?”

“As far as you can without Adrian knowing you’ve looked.”

He gave a quiet nod.

Then he pulled another sheet from the folder.

“There is something else.”

I took it. It was a payment record. The sender was one of Adrian’s private companies. The recipient wasn’t Darius. It was an account belonging to a legal consultancy that handled council documentation.

The payment had been made two days before the forged transfer appeared.

My pulse quickened.

“What does the consultancy do?”

“Document preparation. Legal verification. Council submissions.”

“So they were preparing to submit it.”

“Yes.”

I stared at the date. Two days before Roman first warned me about Adrian.

Before the photographs. Before I knew anything was wrong. Adrian had already started.

“How long has he been planning this?”

Marcus didn’t answer. The evidence was beginning to answer for him. I folded the payment record.

“Can you trace who instructed the consultancy?”

“I’m trying.”

“Don’t try. Find out.”

Marcus looked at me for a moment. There was something different in his expression now.

Perhaps it was because I wasn’t the woman who had walked into the study months ago and handed Adrian every responsibility because I believed my husband knew better.

I was finally asking the questions myself.

“I’ll find it,” he said.

After he left, I stood alone in the study. My phone vibrated.

One message.

Roman: Do you have the original?

I stared at his name. For a moment, I considered telling him everything immediately.

Instead, I typed:

Me: Yes. It proves the transfer was impossible.

His reply came quickly.

Roman: Then Adrian needs someone inside the council.

I looked toward the closed study door.

Me: Darius.

There was a pause.

Then:

Roman: Don’t confront him.

I almost smiled.

Roman had said those words so many times that they were beginning to sound like a rule.

Me: I wasn’t planning to.

Roman: Good. I found something about him.

My attention sharpened.

Me: What?

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

They appeared again.

Roman: Not over the phone.

I frowned.

Another message followed.

Roman: East archives. Six tonight. Come alone.

I locked my phone.

The room suddenly felt smaller. Darius wasn’t simply helping Adrian hide stolen money.

He had been positioned close enough to my family’s affairs to help manufacture a legal path for Adrian to take what could never legally belong to him.

And if Roman had found something else, then perhaps Darius’s involvement went deeper than either of us had imagined.

I returned the files to their place and walked out of the study.

Halfway down the corridor, I stopped. Adrian’s office door was slightly open. I knew I shouldn’t go inside. That was precisely why I did.

His desk was neat, almost obsessively so. Papers were arranged in stacks, pens aligned beside them.

I searched the drawers first.

Nothing.

Then I noticed the small lockbox beneath the lowest cabinet.

My heart began beating faster. The silver key from Adrian’s pocket was still in my possession. The one marked 17. I took it from where I had hidden it and crouched beside the cabinet.

The key slid into the lock. It turned.

Inside was a single folder.

No name.

No label.

Just a date.

I opened it.

The first page made my breath catch. It was a copy of the forged territory agreement. But beneath it was another document. A list of names.

Council members.

Legal advisers.

Investment directors.

And beside one name was a handwritten note.

Darius — final approval.

I stared at the words until they blurred.

This wasn’t an affair.

It wasn’t even about money anymore.

Adrian had been building a network around my inheritance, piece by piece, while convincing me that he was protecting it.

I took photographs of every page and returned everything exactly where I’d found it.

Then I locked the box.

For the first time since Roman had spoken to me at that banquet, I didn’t feel like I was reacting to Adrian’s betrayal.

I was ahead of him.

And tonight, Roman was going to tell me what he had discovered about Darius.

Whatever it was, I had a feeling it would change everything.