###Chapter 13
The man standing outside wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this country-let alone this floor, this suite.
He was supposed to be thousands of miles away. Still entangled in the wreckage of Colin’: wedding. As a high-ranking executive in Marks Corp., even if he despised Colin, he should have at least made an appearance at the ceremony. Out of duty. Out of optics.
Or… maybe he didn’t want to miss the moment Colin fell apart.
After all, it was him who gave me that one-way ticket out. The man who knew-without me eve saying it-that I would never stand at that altar beside Colin Marks.
I stared at him, stunned into near silence.
Victor leaned against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his coat, one brow lazily arched. “Well, are you not gonna invite me in?” His voice was dry. Amused. “Don’t you think at least deserve a drink after cleaning up your mess?”
My brows furrowed. “What mess?”
His smile sharpened just a touch. “You think those security feeds wiped themselves? You think Colin’s dogs were chasing ghosts by accident? Someone had to give them the wrong trail. Ha to keep them far away from your actual location.”
I stared at him, words catching on the edge of disbelief. “You did all that?”
“Why?” I asked. “Why would you do that for me?”
He stepped forward, closing the space between us in one slow, measured stride.
His shadow stretched across the carpet like a warning. The heat of him-his breath, his presence-grazed my skin.
“Because I lo-”
The world around me seemed to drop away. For a second, all sound disappeared. The room, the light, his voice-it all vanished into a vacuum.
And then, he stopped.
Just like that.
His tone shifted. His expression flipped into something playful, mocking. His next words were whispered just above my ear, careless and smooth.
“Kidding, Miss Ward. I’m not that sentimental.”
He stepped back.
“I just want to see how far Colin-and the rest of the Marks Family-will fall. I want to see their empire, built on greed and blood, burn.”
There was no more humor in his eyes. Just cold, lethal intent.
And something else, too.
Hate.
Not the loud, dramatic kind-but the kind that’s old. Lived-in. Carved into the bones.
I blinked, stunned. “You… hate the Marks Family? Why?”
“You’re with Marks Corp. Shouldn’t you want the company to thrive?”
Until now, I thought he and Colin simply didn’t get along-two ambitious men circling the same throne. Power struggles. Ego. Maybe even envy.
But this?
This was deeper. Older.
Victor didn’t answer immediately. He glanced around the suite like he was checking for listening devices, then exhaled.
“Inside,” he said. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Please. In a hotel like this? With world-class security and every exit monitored?
I stepped aside anyway.
Victor walked in like he owned the place. Settled onto the couch with the casual grace of someone used to being obeyed.
I poured him a glass of champagne, handed it over and sat opposite him.
My eyes asked the question.
He answered with a story.
***
Once, a long time ago, Marks Corp. was nothing more than a struggling startup. Two men had built it from the ground up-Bertram Marks and Victor’s father.
Partners. Equals. Until they weren’t.
As the company grew, so did the greed.
Bertram wanted more. Not half. All.
When their visions clashed, Bertram didn’t just cut ties-he orchestrated a “car accident” tc eliminate the problem.
Victor’s parents. And his five-year-old brother.
Dead.
‘I was supposed to be in that car too,” Victor said, his voice eerily calm. “But I was sick. Fever My mom let me stay home.”
His eyes were dark now. Quietly, terrifyingly steady.
‘If I hadn’t missed that dinner, I would’ve burned alive with them.’
He paused, gaze unfocused, then continued.
‘My grandfather found me after that. My mother had cut ties with her family to marry my
I didn’t even know the Keane name meant anything. Bertram certainly didn’t.”
He scoffed.
father.
“Guess he thought the bastard son of a runaway heiress would vanish in some orphanage. Forgotten.”
But Victor hadn’t vanished.
He’d been taken abroad. Raised by the Keanes-his maternal family. Wealthy. Old money.
Ruthless.
He grew into the kind of man who could climb into the heart of Marks Corp. and smile at the man who murdered his family.
The heir of a rival empire. The ghost they thought they buried.
“And now…” he raised his glass, the golden champagne.catching the light like liquid fire, “…I’m
here to collect.”
“To take back what was stolen. And bury every last one of them.”
His eyes locked on mine, all teasing gone.
“We want the same thing, Annelise. You want justice. I want revenge. Let’s get it. Together.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just sat there, staring at the man across from me.
His words hung between us like a blade, sharp and glinting.
“Let’s make them pay. Blood for blood.”
14
