Vivie had always known Ashton kept secrets—dangerous ones. But she hadn’t expected to find one hidden behind a locked door in his own home.

She had discovered it by accident. The house was vast, and her restlessness had driven her to explore. She had counted doors, memorized hallways, and found places Ashton had never taken her. But it was the heavy oak door at the end of the corridor—one she had never seen open—that piqued her curiosity.

It had been left slightly ajar, just enough for her to slip inside.

The room was dim, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and something darker—something metallic. The walls were lined with shelves, stacked with files and photographs. A large wooden desk sat in the middle, neat and organized, but what caught her attention was the board along the far wall.

She hesitated, her fingers ghosting over the edge of a folder on the desk before her gaze lifted. Her breath caught in her throat.

Pinned to the board were dozens of photographs—some grainy, some in sharp focus. Some of them were marked with red Xs, others circled in ink. She stepped closer, her pulse roaring in her ears. The images weren’t random. They were of people. Men. Women. Even children. Some were familiar, faces she’d seen in passing or heard whispered about in the dark corners of this world.

And then she saw it—her own picture, pinned near the center. No red X. No marks. Just her face staring back at her, a moment in time frozen by a camera she had never noticed.

A sharp click behind her made her whirl around.

Ashton stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—dark and lethal—told her she had crossed a line she wasn’t meant to.

A cold weight settled in her stomach. Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” His voice was quiet, deceptively calm, but the restrained fury in it sent a shiver down her spine.

Vivie forced herself to stand tall, to swallow the fear clawing up her throat. “What is all this?”

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The sound sent her stomach plummeting.

“You don’t get to ask questions,” he said smoothly, but there was no mistaking the warning in his tone.

She clenched her fists. “Why is my picture on that board?”

His jaw tightened. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Leave.”

“No.”

The air between them turned thick, charged with something she couldn’t quite name. Ashton’s shoulders were rigid, his gaze unyielding. He was furious, but there was something else beneath it—something raw.

“Vivie,” he said, low and dangerous, like a predator cornering its prey. “You have no idea what you’re playing with.”

Her stomach twisted, but she refused to back down. “Then tell me. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been watching me long before I was ever forced into this marriage.”

Something flickered in his eyes. A truth she wasn’t meant to see.

“I said. Leave.”

“No.”

She barely saw him move before he was in front of her, fingers gripping her wrist. His hold wasn’t painful, but the restrained power behind it was a warning.

“You want answers?” he murmured, his voice a quiet storm. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He released her and moved toward the desk, pulling open a drawer with deliberate slowness. From it, he retrieved a single folder. He tossed it onto the desk, the contents spilling out in an unceremonious heap.

Newspaper clippings. Reports. Surveillance images.

Vivie’s breath hitched as she reached for the closest one. Her hands trembled as she read the headline:

Mysterious Hit on Sinclair Family: A Warning or a Mistake?

Her stomach lurched. She flipped through more pages. Dates. Names. Details of an attack from years ago—one she barely remembered. One her family had never spoken about.

“I wasn’t watching you, Vivie,” Ashton said, voice eerily calm. “I was protecting you.”

She looked up sharply, confusion warring with disbelief. “What?”

His expression was unreadable. “Your family was marked long before your brother ever made his first bet. And you? You’ve been on that list since the moment you turned eighteen.”

Vivie’s head spun. “Who?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, voice a whisper against the chaos in her mind.

“The question isn’t who, Vivie. It’s why.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. She should have been afraid. She should have run.

But for the first time, she saw something in Ashton’s eyes she had never noticed before.

Not just control. Not just anger.

But something dangerously close to obsession.

And that terrified her more than anything else.