The Son-in-law's Secret

The wedding ring on Adrian Cross's finger gleamed under the soft chandelier light-an unassuming band of gold, simple yet symbolic. It marked a new chapter, a binding vow, a public declaration of love.

And a calculated move in a long, dangerous game.

From across the sprawling ballroom, he watched his new wife, Elena Vance, twirl in her father's arms. Her laughter- soft and musical-echoed beneath the string quartet's notes as they moved across the marble floor. Adrian wore his usual mask: warm smile, relaxed posture, attentive eyes. To the guests, he was the picture of charm and humility, the self-made tech entrepreneur who had captured the heart of one of the city's most sought-after heiresses.

But underneath the tailored tuxedo and feigned warmth, his heartbeat was methodical-cold. Calculating. Controlled.

He didn't just marry Elena for love.

Love had nothing to do with this.

"Mr. Cross," a voice interrupted his thoughts, clipped and authoritative. Adrian turned, already knowing who it was. Marcus Vance-father of the bride, CEO of Vance Holdings, and the man who unknowingly set Adrian's life on a path of ruin ten years ago-stood beside him, drink in hand, steel in his gray eyes.

"Or should I say, son," Marcus added, raising a brow.

Adrian offered a half-smile. "Still getting used to the title, sir."

"I bet." Marcus clinked his glass against Adrian's, the gesture almost too forceful. "Let's get something straight before the speeches and toasts and all this saccharine bullshit. My daughter loves you. That's the only reason you're standing here."

Adrian's smile didn't waver. "And I love her, Mr. Vance."

"Marcus," the older man corrected, his tone low. "Only my enemies call me Mr. Vance."

Adrian let that linger in the air for a second. "Then I'll stick with Marcus."

Marcus studied him for a beat too long, as if he could peel back the skin and look beneath the charm. "I don't know where you came from, Cross. You're clean-too clean. A man like you always has something to hide."

Adrian held his gaze, letting just the right amount of confidence bleed through his voice. "Then I guess you'll enjoy trying to find it."

Marcus chuckled darkly, patting him on the shoulder. "Watch your step. My daughter may love blind, but I don't. If you break her heart, I'll break your bones."

He walked away before Adrian could respond. Not that he needed to. The man didn't scare him-not anymore. Not after what Adrian had endured. Not after what he'd lost.

A soft hand slipped into his. Elena, radiant in her champagne-colored gown, looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "You okay?"

He turned to her, instantly transforming into the loving husband. "Of course. Just having a little father-son bonding."

She laughed. "God, he's so intense, right?"

You have no idea.

Elena rose on her toes to kiss him, and for a brief moment, the room melted away. The weight of vengeance, the anger simmering in his veins-it all dulled. She smelled like roses and honey. She was warmth. Light. Innocence.

And that made it all the more dangerous.

Because there were nights-rare, flickering moments-when Adrian forgot this was all a façade. Nights when he held her and thought maybe he could be that man. The one who loved without an ulterior motive. The one who wasn't haunted. But that wasn't who he was... And the Vances didn't deserve his mercy.

---

Two hours later, Adrian stood alone in Marcus Vance's private office. He had memorized the layout months ago when he first visited the Vance estate. Tonight, with the security distracted and the guests celebrating downstairs, he had slipped away.

The office was just as he expected-minimalist, cold, precise. A wall of bookshelves disguised a secure cabinet, and behind the desk, an abstract painting covered a hidden wall safe.

He moved swiftly, disabling the small camera hidden in the corner, then pressed his fingers beneath the lip of the painting frame. A soft click. The painting slid open.

Adrian had acquired the safe code from Elena weeks ago, during a "playful" moment when she boasted she knew her father's security better than anyone. She hadn't realized how quickly he had memorized it: her birthday combined with the year Marcus took Vance Holdings public.

7-18-02.

The safe opened with a whisper, revealing a stack of files, a few USB drives, and a pistol. Adrian ignored the weapon and focused on the files. He scanned the labels quickly.

"Project Tundra." "M. Vance-Sealed Assets." "R. Cross- Closed Case."

R. Cross.

His father.

Adrian pulled the file out, fingers trembling slightly despite himself. The folder was thick-documents, photographs, court records, and financial statements.

His father's death had been ruled a suicide, the case closed quickly. Adrian had always known it wasn't that simple. Now, holding evidence that Marcus Vance had ties to the investigation... it was both vindication and agony.

The sound of a door handle turning snapped him out of it. Adrian shoved the folder inside his jacket, shut the safe, replaced the painting, and crossed the room in seconds.

The door opened just as he slipped into the shadows beside a tall bookshelf.

It was Marcus.

The older man walked in, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket and muttering to himself. He poured a drink, then turned toward the desk. Adrian didn't move. He could feel his heart pounding, but he'd trained for moments like this-back when he was on the streets, learning how to survive.

After a few minutes, Marcus picked up his phone, made a call, and said, "Check the cameras near the east wing. I have a feeling our new son-in-law is already exploring."

Adrian's jaw tightened.

Marcus hung up, then muttered, "Let's see what you're hiding, golden boy."

Adrian waited ten full minutes after Marcus left before slipping back out the hidden service corridor. He moved quickly through the hallway, rejoining the party just as the DJ called for the couple's final dance. Elena caught sight of him and smiled.

"You disappeared."

"Bathroom," Adrian said smoothly, kissing her temple. "Miss me already?"

She laughed. "Always."

As they danced under the soft lights, her head resting on his chest, Adrian stared past her-toward the man who had taken everything from him. His revenge had just begun. But the one variable he hadn't accounted for was already in his arms. Love. Or something dangerously close to it. And if he wasn't careful, it could destroy everything.

The music faded into the background as Elena nestled into Adrian's chest, her fingers curled gently around his. The warmth of her body, the trust in her touch- it was disarming.

Too disarming.

Adrian closed his eyes for a moment, tightening his grip on her waist. He needed to remember why he was here. Why he had sacrificed everything-his real name, his past, even his peace of mind-to infiltrate the Vance family. This mission had been years in the making. There was no room for guilt.

No room for weakness.

And yet, as Elena tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes soft and searching, his carefully built armor cracked- just slightly.

"Adrian?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"You sure you're okay? You've been... tense all day. Even before the ceremony."

He exhaled a slow breath. "Wedding jitters, maybe."

She gave him a look. "You don't get jitters. You're annoyingly unshakable."

His lips curved. "You noticed."

"Of course. You're like a rock-cool and calm under pressure. That's what I love about you."

She didn't know the half of it.

"I'm just happy to finally call you my wife," he said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one good thing in all of this."

Her smile faltered. Just for a second.

"What?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Sometimes I wonder... if I was too quick to marry you."

The words were like a flicker of lightning-brief but sharp.

Adrian's mind went cold. "What makes you say that?"

"I mean-" she winced, trying to recover. "Not like that. It's just... everything happened so fast. One year ago, you were just this mysterious guy who crashed into my life. Now we're married, and I barely even know your family."

His pulse steadied. She wasn't suspicious-just vulnerable. Searching for reassurance.

"That's because there's not much to know," he said, letting his voice drop into something quieter, heavier. "My parents are gone. No siblings. No close relatives. It's just me."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay." His gaze darkened, the lie rolling off his tongue as smooth as silk. "My past isn't something I share easily. But I'm here now-with you. That's all that matters."

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into him again. The DJ transitioned into something slow and romantic, and guests began to take their partners to the floor. Adrian spun her gently, performing the part of the devoted husband to perfection. But his mind was a battlefield.

R. Cross- Closed Case.

The image of that file burned into his memory. His father had died ten years ago, found hanging in his small apartment just weeks after a hostile corporate takeover bankrupted the research lab he had devoted his life to. A suicide, they had claimed. No foul play. No further investigation.

But Adrian remembered the bruises on his father's body. The empty bank accounts. The fear in his eyes the week before it happened.

And now, finally, he had the first real proof. Marcus Vance had been involved.

Later that night, well past midnight, Adrian stepped out onto the grand balcony of the Vance estate, the silk tie of his tux loosened, jacket gone. The celebration had long since died down. The estate was quiet now-only the chirping of crickets and the distant crash of waves from the ocean below.

He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. He didn't smoke often. Only when he needed to think.

The file was tucked inside his suitcase upstairs, hidden beneath a false bottom. He hadn't had time to read it all, but one name had caught his eye besides his father's-Greywell Pharmaceuticals.

The company Marcus had absorbed five years ago and shuttered within months.

His father had worked for them.

"Thought you didn't smoke," came a voice behind him.

Adrian turned to find Sebastian Hale leaning against the doorway, a tumbler of scotch in hand. Marcus's right-hand man. COO of Vance Holdings. And a man Adrian didn't trust as far as he could throw him.

"I don't," Adrian replied smoothly. "Bad habit."

"Then why start tonight?"

"Long day."

Sebastian stepped onto the balcony, watching Adrian with a predator's patience. "You're a hard man to read, Cross."

"Is that a compliment or a warning?"

"Neither. Just an observation."

Adrian flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette. "Do you always watch the groom this closely, or am I just special?"

"You're marrying into a multi-billion-dollar empire. Forgive me if I'm doing my due diligence."

Adrian smirked. "Sounds like Marcus sent you to sniff around."

Sebastian didn't deny it. "Marcus is a careful man. He's built an empire. He doesn't hand it over to just anyone."

"I'm not here for his empire."

"Maybe not. But Elena is his only heir. And that makes you dangerous, whether you like it or not."

There was a long pause.

Then Sebastian added, "And men like you? With no traceable past, no family, no one to vouch for you? That's either very convenient-or very deliberate."

Adrian took one last drag and crushed the cigarette underfoot. "What's your point?"

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Just this-Marcus Vance doesn't tolerate snakes in his garden. He burns them out. So if you're hiding something, Cross... now would be a good time to vanish."

He turned and walked away, leaving Adrian alone with the smoke and the stars.

When Adrian returned to the master bedroom, Elena was already asleep, curled up on her side in the massive bed. She looked peaceful. Untouched by the poison that ran beneath the surface of the Vance name.

He moved quietly, showered, and changed into black sweatpants and a T-shirt. Then, with a soft click, he opened the hidden compartment in his suitcase and pulled out the file labeled R. Cross.

He sat on the edge of the leather armchair by the fireplace and began to read.

Page after page.

His father's name was all over the documents. Robert Cross. Senior Biochemist. Project Head at Greywell Pharmaceuticals. Specialized in gene therapy research-experimental treatments for autoimmune diseases. Brilliant, obsessed with ethics, and vocal against the company's push for monetizing untested drugs... Then the internal memos started.

Pressure from Vance Holdings.

Leaked reports.

A hostile bid.

The project shut down.

Research destroyed.

Staff laid off.

And Robert Cross-the loudest whistleblower-discredited, audited, and ultimately, erased.

Adrian's fingers tightened around the edge of the folder.

His father had tried to expose them. And they had destroyed him for it.

There was even a sealed testimony report-one page, redacted, unsigned. But the initials at the bottom gave Adrian pause: S.H.

Sebastian Hale.

The bastard had known.

And maybe... regretted it?

He scanned further. In the last file, tucked behind financial statements, was a photo-faded and grainy. A group of men in suits at a press conference. Robert Cross was at the center, smiling. Marcus Vance stood to the far right.

Behind them, on a banner: GREYWELL INNOVATION SUMMIT 2014.

So they had known each other. They had worked together. Then something changed.

Adrian set the file down slowly. The puzzle pieces were aligning. But there were still too many shadows. Too many names missing. He needed more. And he couldn't let Marcus or Sebastian know he was digging.

Which meant continuing to play the part of the loyal son-in-law.

For now.

He glanced at Elena, still sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

He should feel guilty. He should feel something. But all Adrian felt was resolve.

"I'll burn this entire house to the ground," he murmured, "if that's what it takes to make them pay."