I Married the Man Who Ruined My Family

CHAPTER ONE THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED HER ENEMY Three years ago, Amara Vale watched her father being buried. Today, she was marrying the man she believed had killed him. The irony almost made her laugh. Almost. She stood at the end of the cathedral aisle in a white silk gown, one hand wrapped tightly around a bouquet of white roses. At the other end stood Lucien Cross. Black suit. Black tie. Black eyes. He looked exactly as she remembered him from the funeral three years ago—calm, composed, untouched by the destruction that had swallowed her family whole. The billionaire who had bought Vale Holdings for a fraction of its worth. The man the newspapers had called ruthless. The man who had watched her father's empire collapse and walked away richer. The man Amara had promised herself she would destroy. Her fingers tightened around the bouquet. This is not a wedding. It's an execution. Only she was the one holding the knife. The priest continued speaking, but Amara barely heard him. Her eyes remained fixed on Lucien. He wasn't looking at the priest. He was looking at her. And that irritated her more than anything. There was no triumph in his expression. No smugness. No satisfaction. If anything, he looked almost... Sad. Amara immediately rejected the thought. Lucien Cross didn't feel sadness. Men like him didn't destroy families because they felt sorry for them. They destroyed them because they could. The priest turned toward her. "Amara Vale, do you take Lucien Cross to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Silence filled the cathedral. Hundreds of eyes turned toward her. Businessmen. Politicians. Old family friends who had suddenly remembered the Vale name now that she was standing beside one of the richest men in the country. And Sebastian. Her uncle sat in the front row. He had tears in his eyes. At least those looked real. Amara looked back at Lucien. Three years ago, she had stood behind a glass door at her father's funeral and watched this same man speak quietly to her brother. She had never heard what they said. She only remembered Adrian's face afterward. Terrified. And then Lucien had walked away. Two days later, Vale Holdings was gone. Her father's accounts were frozen. Their properties were seized. Their name was dragged through the newspapers. And Gabriel Vale was buried beneath six feet of earth. Amara had spent three years putting the pieces together. Three years learning patience. Three years learning how powerful men destroyed people without ever touching them. And now Lucien had handed her the perfect opportunity. Marriage. Access. His home. His company. His secrets. She could almost taste the revenge. "I do." Her voice sounded steadier than she felt. A murmur moved through the cathedral. Lucien's gaze didn't leave hers. The priest turned toward him. "Lucien Cross, do you take Amara Vale to be your lawfully wedded wife?" "I do." Two words. No hesitation. No emotion. Amara almost smiled. Good. The priest smiled. "Then by the authority vested in me—" Amara stopped listening. The ring slid onto her finger. Cold metal. Heavy. Permanent. Lucien's hand remained around hers for one second longer than necessary. His thumb brushed her knuckles. A tiny gesture. Almost tender. She pulled her hand away. His expression didn't change. They turned toward the congregation. Applause erupted. Cameras flashed. Someone shouted congratulations. Amara smiled. Lucien smiled. They looked like the perfect newlywed couple. No one knew that beneath her smile was a promise. I will destroy you. They walked down the aisle together. Lucien leaned slightly toward her. "Try not to look so murderous." Her smile remained fixed. "I thought you'd appreciate honesty." "I do." "You won't for long." His eyes flickered toward hers. "I suppose I'll find out." Outside, the cathedral steps were covered in photographers. The moment they appeared, flashes exploded around them. "Mr. Cross! Mrs. Cross!" "Amara, how does it feel to marry the man who acquired your family's company?" "Lucien! Is this a business arrangement?" "Mrs. Cross, did you really forgive him?" Amara felt Lucien's hand settle against the small of her back. Possessive. Controlled. For the cameras. She leaned closer and whispered through her smile. "Touch me again, and I'll break your fingers." His smile widened. "That would make tomorrow's headlines interesting." "You think I'm joking?" "No." He looked at her. "I don't." For one strange second, neither of them spoke. Then the car door opened. Lucien guided her inside. The door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the cameras. Silence. Amara immediately moved to the opposite side of the back seat. Lucien loosened his tie. Neither spoke for several seconds. Then he said, "You can stop pretending." "I'm not pretending." "You've been glaring at me for twenty minutes." "I've hated you for three years." "I know." That answer caught her off guard. She looked at him. "You know?" "Yes." "Good." She folded her arms. "Then you know exactly what I intend to do." Lucien looked out the window. "Do I?" "I'm going to find out what really happened to my father." His expression hardened. "And when I find out?" She smiled. "You'll wish you'd never married me." Lucien turned toward her. There was something unreadable in his eyes. "Perhaps." The car continued through the city. Amara watched buildings pass through the tinted glass. Her old life was somewhere behind them. Her new life was waiting ahead. Lucien's mansion. His company. His world. Exactly where she needed to be. The car slowed. Then stopped. Lucien's security team opened the doors. Amara stepped outside. The Cross estate rose before her like a fortress. Black stone. Glass walls. Iron gates. Security cameras hidden in almost every corner. She looked at Lucien. "You live here?" "Unfortunately." She almost laughed. Almost. He started toward the entrance. She followed. Inside, the mansion was even colder than she expected. Everything was immaculate. Expensive. Silent. There were no family photographs. No paintings of children. No signs that anyone actually lived there. Only one thing caught her attention. A photograph sitting alone on a console table. She stopped. Her breath caught. It was her father. Gabriel Vale. Standing beside Lucien. Not at the funeral. Not during the collapse. Before. Much before. Her fingers reached toward the frame. Lucien appeared beside her. "Don't." She turned sharply. "Why?" He took the photograph from her hand. "Because you're not ready." Her eyes narrowed. "Ready for what?" Lucien said nothing. He placed the photograph face down. That was when Amara heard it. A faint vibration. Her phone. She pulled it from her clutch. Unknown number. One message. Her pulse quickened. She opened it. There was no greeting. No explanation. Only five words. YOUR HUSBAND DID NOT KILL YOUR FATHER. Amara stared at the screen. Her first thought was that it was a joke. Her second was that someone was trying to manipulate her. Her third— How did they know what I believed? She slowly looked up. Lucien was standing across the room. Watching her. Not her phone. Her face. "What's wrong?" he asked. Amara locked the screen. "Nothing." Lucien studied her for another moment. Then nodded. "Good." He turned and walked away. Amara watched him disappear through the doorway. Her heart was beating faster now. She looked back at the message. Then at the photograph lying face down on the table. For three years, she had believed she knew exactly who destroyed her family. For three years, she had built her revenge around one man. Lucien Cross. But someone had just told her that everything she believed about him was wrong. And for the first time since her father's death, Amara wondered if she had chosen the wrong enemy. She looked toward the doorway where Lucien had disappeared. Her grip tightened around her phone. "No," she whispered. "I'll find out for myself." She opened the message again. A second message appeared beneath the first. ASK HIM ABOUT THE NIGHT YOUR FATHER DIED. Then another. BUT DON'T LET HIM KNOW YOU'RE ASKING.