He Ordered 200 Lashes for Me to Please His Mistress—Five Minutes Later, He Lost Everything

The message stayed on my screen all the way to the hospital.

Ask him what he promised Julian before your wedding.

My father arrived twenty minutes after I did.

Gabriel Arden looked less like a famous financier than my dad: gray hair, tired eyes, navy coat buttoned wrong.

He stopped at the treatment-room door.

His face broke when he saw me.

"Ellie."

I hated the pity in that one word.

"Don't."

The doctor documented my injuries. Two detectives waited outside.

"Julian's access to corporate borrowing is blocked," he said. "The board has suspended his authority pending an emergency review. Our debt covenants gave us the right to demand it once the fraud package was filed."

"Our?"

"Arden Capital holds major debt and voting positions in Vale Meridian."

I stared at him. "Julian never knew."

"He was never supposed to."

"Neither was I?"

Dad frowned. "You knew we had exposure."

"Not that much."

He looked away.

"What did you promise him?"

Dad's eyes came back to mine. "What?"

"Before the wedding. What did you promise Julian?"

His shoulders dropped. Enough.

"Who told you that?"

"So it's true."

"Elena—"

"Don't call me Elena like we're in a board meeting. Answer me."

He stood and went to the window.

"Six years ago," he said, "Julian needed financing for a logistics acquisition. No bank would touch it. I approved a bridge loan through a fund he couldn't trace back to me."

"Why?"

He didn't answer quickly enough.

I felt colder than I had in the penthouse.

"Dad. Why?"

"Because you loved him."

"That's not an answer."

He turned.

"Because he said he'd walk away from you if it failed."

"So you paid him to stay."

"I thought I was protecting you."

"You bought him."

A knock interrupted us. Detective Mara Lewis stepped inside carrying a laptop.