5

Levi’s office had become a war zone of paper and tension. The room reeked of old wood polish and something sharper—the stale scent of anger that lingered after Levi’s outbursts. He leaned against the desk, arms crossed, his eyes drilling into me.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, his voice low and flat. “Not completely. Not yet.”

“I don’t care what you believe,” I shot back, tired of his relentless accusations. “If I had answers, don’t you think I’d be screaming them by now? Do you think I want to be here?”

His laugh was cold, biting. “What you want doesn’t matter. What matters is what you know. And you know something, even if you don’t realize it yet.”

“I know Livia’s manipulative,” I said, letting my words snap. “I know she dangles debt and desperation over people’s heads until they do whatever she wants. But what you’re talking about? Rival families, assassination plots? You sound crazy, Vanderbilt. What is this a marvel movie?”

“Levi,” he corrected sharply. “Don’t use my last name like it’s armor. You married me, remember?”

“Against my will,” I said, matching his tone. “Let’s not forget that part. I thought you were dead.”

For a moment, he said nothing, just stared at me like I was a puzzle missing half the pieces. The air between us felt charged, thick with unspoken accusations and something heavier, something neither of us could name.

Finally, he straightened, pushing off the desk with an air of finality. “Fine. We’ll play it your way for now. The marriage stays a secret. But you’re not going anywhere.”

“Like hell I’m not?” We both stood shocked by that. I stood mortified, I didn’t expect to say that and from his expression neither did he.

He clears his throat. “Fine, Indiana Jones. You will stay close to me at all times. You’re my insurance,” he said, in a commanding tone. “If you’re telling the truth and that’s a big if then you’re a liability. Livia’s dangerous. If she’s using you as a pawn, I’m not giving her another move.”

“And if I say no?”

He smirked, sharp and humorless. “You’ve never had a choice in this matter.”

His words hit like a gut punch. I hated how trapped I felt, how small, like a bird in a cage with no way out. But I couldn’t let him see that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Fine,” I said with a sarcastic smile. “Don’t hold your breath for a thank you card.”

“I don’t need your gratitude,” he said, already turning away and walking out.

•••

The attack came out of nowhere. We were at one of Levi’s properties. He’d forced me to go with me, reluctant to leave me at his house, for fear of my snooping maybe. It was not secret he didn’t trust me.

The property; a sleek, glass-fronted building that screamed wealth and power; when the first explosion hit. It felt like an earthquake, the blast was so loud rocking us from underneath, sending a shockwave through the room. I stumbled my hand grabbing the nearest stable thing. Levi’s muscular toned arms.

“What the hell was that?” I shouted, my voice barely audible over the chaos.

Levi was already moving, his expression grim. “Stay here,” he ordered, his tone sharp.

“Not a chance,” I said, following him despite the gnawing fear in my chest. Even in moments like this I derived joy in defying him.

The next hour was a blur of fire and smoke, security scrambling to contain the damage, and Levi barking orders like a general on the battlefield. I stuck close to him, not because I trusted him, but because it felt safer than being alone in the chaos. In the event of another attack I’d hoped the took him or attacked him first than me. I figured, as a human shield or something.

Then we found the warning.

A measly piece of paper, folded neatly and left on the desk in what Levi bragged was a heavily secured office. Levi’s jaw tightening as he picked it up, reading the cryptic message on it:

The past never stays buried. Neither will you.

His eyes flicked to me, and I saw the doubt in them, the unspoken question. I swallowed hard, refusing to let my fear show. “It wasn’t me, I promise?”

He almost smiles, “this is very much above any skill set you might have,” he said, his voice a dangerous whisper, “It means that someone’s trying to send a message.”

The note included a series of numbers at the bottom—a code of some kind. Levi frowned at it, his frustration palpable. “Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This is such an unnecessary inconvenience.”

“What does it say? Let me see,” I tried grabbing it without a thought.

He hesitated, then handed it over, watching me closely.

The numbers didn’t make sense at first, but something about them felt familiar like a melody I couldn’t quite place. I focused, letting my mind work through the pattern. And then it clicked.

“It might be a date,” I said, looking up at him. “Look…this number … it corresponds to a calendar year, and these here, I may be wrong but they look like they’re coordinates.”

His eyes widened, just slightly, before narrowing again. “How did you get that from that ?”

“Because I’m not fucking stupid,” the tension was already getting to my nerves and I snapped. I don’t know how much more of this I could take.

The look he gave me, somehow for the first time, It looked almost like respect in his gaze. “Impressive,” he said grudgingly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”

“Oh I wouldn’t dare dream of it Levi Vanderbilt.” I said, handing the paper back. “Nothing ever does with you, does it?”

He didn’t answer, already turning his attention to his phone, barking orders like a military commander at some poor lackey at the other end of the call. I watched him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

•••

Later, back at the estate, Levi found the recording.

I nursed a drink in the corner of the room trying to make sense of everything that had happened or just wrap my head around everything. It was one of those rare moments we were at close proximity with each other. Just when I heard the sharp intake of his breath.

“What is it?” I asked, standing.

He didn’t answer at first, just stared at the screen of his laptop with a look that sent chills down my spine. I could already feel my heart racing goosebumps appearing on my skin.

“Levi,” I said, my voice more forceful. “What is it?”

He turned the screen toward me, and I saw it—a grainy video feed, the audio crackling with static. But the voices were clear.

“Make it look like an accident,” one of them said.

“And the girl?”

“She’s disposable. Just make sure it leads back to the Vanderbilts.”

My stomach turned as I recognized the voice—calm, calculated, and unmistakable.

Livia.