My husband took me to a notary’s office to sign away the inheritance my dying mother had called “my protection.” Minutes before I put pen to paper, an elderly cleaning woman shoved a filthy rag into my hands and whispered, “Don’t sign yet.” What I found hidden inside made me realize the man sleeping beside me might have been planning my ruin for years.

When I walked through the front door of our luxury brownstone at 6:00 p.m., Jasper was sitting on the leather sofa in the dark, a glass of scotch resting in his hand.

He didn't stand up. He just watched me step into the foyer, his dark eyes tracking my every movement like a predator evaluating prey.

"Where were you, Camille?" he asked softly. His voice was too calm, too level.

"I was walking by the river," I lied smoothly, hanging my coat in the closet. "My stomach was in knots, Jasper. I felt so overwhelmed by thinking about Mom and the factory..."

He set his glass down on the glass table with a sharp clink.

"You missed four calls," he said, stepping toward me. He stopped only inches away, his cologne suffocatingly strong. He reached out, taking my chin in his hand, his thumb pressing just hard enough into my jaw to cause a dull throb. "Reynolds was furious. The notary was furious. Do you have any idea how much effort I put into securing that deal for us?"

"I know," I whispered, forcing myself not to flinch from his touch. "I'm sorry. I was just... confused."

"You don't need to think, Camille," Jasper murmured, lowering his face so his lips brushed against my ear. "That's my job. I take care of you. I protect you from your father's mess. All you have to do is trust me."

"I do," I lied, looking straight into his deceptive, handsome eyes. "I'll sign the papers, Jasper. I promise. Just... give me until Friday at the investor dinner. Let me make peace with it in my mind."

Jasper searched my face for a long, agonizing ten seconds. Slowly, his tight grip on my chin relaxed, and his signature, polished smile returned.

"Friday," he agreed, stroking my cheek. "At the Riverside Hotel gala. In front of the board. You'll sign, and then this nightmare will be over for both of us."

That night, while Jasper slept deeply beside me—his arm thrown possessively over my waist—I carefully slipped out from under the heavy comforter.

I crept down the hallway into his private home office.

My heart hammered in my ears as I sat in his leather chair. I inserted a second empty flash drive into his desktop computer. Using the master passwords I had recovered from the USB drive Martha gave me, I unlocked his encrypted financial drives.

What I found made my blood run ice-cold.

Jasper hadn't just arranged the theft of the factory.

Three weeks ago, he had taken out a two-million-dollar supplemental life insurance policy on me, listing himself as the sole beneficiary. Attached to the policy was an drafted, unsigned addendum regarding an "accidental fall or drowning" near our river house.