It was my wedding day. A week after I'd proposed to Noel, we had worked on the invitations together—or more like, he had done all the work while I just invited those necessary. I'd invited my relatives, both from my father's and mother's side. They thought I was getting married because I was in love with Noel Sinclair.

They should know better.

The designer behind me fixed my veil in my blonde hair, which she had packed into a stylish wedding bun. I was beautiful, I wouldn't deny that, and I wished this beauty was for a different occasion—not signing away my life to someone who could kill me while I slept at night.

But he wouldn't. I would be the first to put a knife to his throat.

"My, my, look how gorgeous you are," Nirvana chuckled as she walked inside the hotel room Noel had booked for us. She was my chief bridesmaid.

"Thank you." I tilted my head up to look at her with a small smile. The designer was finally done with my veil, and she helped me up from the chair.

"This dress is magnificent. Your husband-to-be has amazing taste," Nirvana gushed, and I rolled my eyes.

"Tell me about it," I sighed. I sat on the bed while the dressers slipped my stilettos onto my feet, and after everything was done, we were driven to the church. My uncle was waiting outside the chapel—I had told him to walk me down the aisle because he was the closest thing to a father I had.

"You look beautiful, dear," he said when I intertwined my elbow with his. "Mario would be happy to see his daughter in a wedding gown."

Mario—my father.

"He would," I whispered.

The bell rang, and soft music started playing as Uncle Chase and I walked into the chapel. It was full—really, really full. Noel had played his card perfectly, making everyone believe we were actually in love and getting married for that reason.

I knew why he did it. One wrong move, and the sharks would bite.

We reached Noel, who stood before the altar. My veil was still over my face, but I could see him perfectly. He was handsome, with his hair gelled back and that black mole under his left eye.

"You look beautiful, Tempest," he complimented, and I was momentarily stunned before I remembered he was doing it for the audience.

I smiled a fake sweet smile. "Thank you, Noel. You look gorgeous as well."

Noel chuckled low before we turned to the priest. After the whole ordeal of saying our marriage vows and putting on our rings, it was time to kiss the bride.

I didn’t actually think Noel was going to kiss me, but he surprised me by taking off my veil and pressing a full kiss to my lips.

A sly smirk curved his lips when he pulled away.

After signing marriage certificates and all the other bullshit, it was time for the reception. Noel and I rode in the same car, but it was unimaginably silent—neither of us spoke until we reached the hotel venue for the reception.

That, too, went well—until it was time for the couple’s dance. I had taken off my wedding gown and worn a simpler white dress. The musical band changed the song into something soft and warm, like this was any love story.

Noel wrapped his arms around my waist while I placed mine on his shoulders as we twirled to the music. He leaned down, and my heart left my body when I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he only whispered:

"Didn't know you were so excited to get married to me. I mean, you literally invited all your family members."

His words registered, and I scoffed, but then I chuckled—knowing everyone was watching, searching for the perfect slip.

"Who wouldn’t be eager to get married to you, Noel?" I asked in a whisper. "You are all money. I’m certain my aunties are very excited that I’m getting married to you."

Noel laughed—a low sound—and before I could register the fact that I enjoyed the sound of his laughter, a gunshot echoed outside.

And then—screams.

"Take cover!" Noel yelled before he left my side. But then—men in black everything and masks filtered into the room. Bullets flew, screams made my head almost explode.

Everyone rushed to take cover, though some guests were hit—but not in vital places.

Me? I still stood in absolute shock, unmoving, until Noel rushed to me and ducked, bringing both of us to the ground. I only just realized he had saved me from a bullet that had landed dangerously close to my feet.

Noel was yelling, but his voice had never sounded so distant. Not only were the men in black shooting, but Noel’s men, too. When everything died down and Noel lifted me up, leaning me against the wall, a piece of paper before me caught my eye. I crawled to pick it up.

When I unfurled it and read the contents, my breathing—and my whole body—paused altogether.

"Hello, Tempest. Happy Lovely Wedding Day."

The ride back to Noel's house was silent. Too silent. And even if I liked noises and loud places, this just wasn’t the occasion.

Someone was after me. Or Noel. Or maybe both of us.

But I knew very well this person was looking for me. At me. And I also knew this person wasn’t Noel. Noel didn’t know about the little paper, though. The moment I spotted him coming, I had squeezed it and thrown it away immediately, mixing it with all the food and dirt on the ground.

What a wedding day.

The moment the driver parked the car inside the garage, I opened the door and slipped out. A minute later, I heard the soft sound of his footsteps. I wasn’t sure if Noel noticed my change in mood, and even if he did, he did well not to ask.

Noel walked ahead of me and led us to the elevator that took us up to his penthouse. My breath caught when I saw the interiors. I’d been born and bred with money, but Noel was a whole other brand of rich—and he did well to show it.

I thought Father was richer than the Sinclairs?

"Where's my room?" I turned to him and asked when we stood in the sitting room.

Noel stared at me for a beat, then asked, "What happened in there?"

I blinked, confused for a moment, before it clicked. "It's nothing," I answered, gulping and turning away from him.

He closed the distance between us in two strides and turned my face back to his with a finger under my chin.

"It’s not nothing if you look like life just drained out of you. What did the paper read, Tempest?"

A chill raced down my spine.

He had seen me read the letter.

"It’s nothing," I said firmly, but it came out choked as my throat had suddenly gone painfully dry.

Noel took a deep breath in, his fingers still holding my chin in place. "Don’t tell me fucking nothing, Tempest. I saw you—"

"Saw me what?!" I yelled. "That isn’t part of our deal, Noel! Have you forgotten that we each mind our business when we’re not in public? Now, where’s my room?" I hissed.

His clenched jaw told me he wanted to say more, but he just took a deep breath in and closed his eyes.

"Follow me," he ordered, then turned on his heels, leading us up the stairs.

I followed immediately, and we came to a stop before one of the doors.

"This is your room, and this is mine," he said, gesturing to the two doors beside each other.

His room was beside mine. He was making this way too easy.

"Food is in the kitchen downstairs in case you get hungry." He turned and touched his room’s doorknob but stopped, turning back to face me. "You’ll have to cook, though. The maids don’t stay until night."

He then opened his door and slipped inside. I did the same with a sigh.

I took off the wedding dress and everything else, had a cool bath, then came back to bed. Sleep didn’t come immediately, though—I was still thinking about the letter and whoever might be watching me. The person was perhaps close yet far. I might know them but not at all.

When sleep finally came, nightmares escorted it as well. The usual nightmares I had every night, followed by sleep paralysis.

Since my parents’ deaths, I was never the same Tempest Blackwood they left.

I was a broken one. One left with grief and loss and nightmares.

★

By eight o’clock in the morning, I was ready for business.

Over time, Noel had stacked my wardrobe with things I liked—professional dress shirts and skirts—even though I was just twenty-one. If my mother were to see me, she’d tell me to live a little and not be so uptight like Father. She had never liked Father teaching me and Tyler about business, but I guess they came in handy anyway.

Standing before the wardrobe-sized mirror plastered onto my closet, I took a deep breath in and released it, tucking my hair behind my ear on both sides. Then, I slipped into my loafers, grabbed my handbag, and exited the room.

Of all the things I expected coming out of my room on the first day living with Noel, it wasn’t him sitting on the couch in the living room—acting like an actual husband waiting for his wife.

He turned at the sound of my steps and slowly rose from his chair when I approached him.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice deep. And I almost forgot the real purpose of marrying him.

Almost.

"Morning," I responded, my voice harsher than it should be. "I'll be bringing my car in today."

It was still in the apartment I’d purchased after Father’s death. It hadn’t been sold yet, and the landlord was taking good care of it.

"There’s no need," Noel stated. "There are plenty of cars for you to use here anyway." He paused, his brows furrowing. "And you’ll need to start going out with bodyguards."

I scoffed. "Bodyguards, plural? Please don’t start with that. I’m not going anywhere with bodyguards. I didn’t when I was still my father’s child, and I definitely won’t now."

He stepped closer into my space. It seemed he liked doing that a lot.

"Probably because when you were still your father’s child, you were immensely protected—and you didn’t even know it," he growled. "You will go out with bodyguards because I don’t know the meaning of the fuckery that happened yesterday, and I’m not letting anything happen to my wife." His nostrils flared dangerously as he spoke, and I didn’t even realize when I nodded.

Maybe it was because of his dominance. As much as I’d been a strong woman, I’d also been a seriously obedient one.

"Okay," I muttered.

"That’ll be for later, though. You’re riding with me this morning."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No."

"There is no ‘no,’ darling. You will ride with me this morning."

He chuckled, then leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Appearance purposes. Did you forget? Hm, wife?"

He pulled back with a smirk, then brushed past me, walking out of the house.

With a heavy sigh, I followed suit.

Noel's Range Rover stopped directly in front of Blackwood Tech’s entrance. A swarm of paparazzi waited outside, their cameras flashing even before the doors opened. I took a deep breath and moved to open the door, but Noel caught my wrist.

When I turned to him, he shook his head.

"The bodyguard will get it," he said.

As if on cue, the door was opened from outside. We stepped down together, and I almost reeled from the bright lights. It wasn’t my first time in front of the paparazzi, but back then, I had been little. Now, I was older, and they had a million more reasons to care.

"So what do we do now?" I whispered through my teeth, making sure my lips barely moved.

"We make them believe," Noel murmured, turning slightly toward me.

Then, he leaned down.

My heart leaped at the thought that he might kiss me, but instead, he whispered in my ear, "Your ride and new bodyguard will come over later."

Then, he pulled away and pressed a kiss to my cheek. The paparazzi swooned, their questions blending into a frenzy of noise.

"Noel! Is the marriage real?"

"Tempest! Is Blackwood Tech merging with Sinclair Tech Empire?"

"Is it true you signed a prenup?"

I ignored them. Noel climbed back into the car, but he didn’t drive off until my bodyguard ensured I was safely inside the building.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tempest Sinclair," the employees greeted as I walked in.

I barely reacted. It was no secret now—my marriage with Noel Sinclair had spread far and wide, reaching the ears of everyone who needed to know.

I nodded curtly as I passed them, waving them back to their work as I stepped into the elevator.

When the doors slid open on my floor, Peppe was already waiting.

Peppe had been my father’s right-hand man, the closest person to him in both business and life. After my parents' deaths, he had taken over the company while I grieved, keeping things running as smoothly as possible.

He was also one of the few who believed, like I did, that the Sinclairs had a hand in my father’s murder.

Peppe’s sharp eyes flicked to the bodyguard behind me, then back to me. I gave him a curt nod before we walked into my office—my father’s old office.

The familiarity of it hit me like a wave. The polished mahogany desk. The towering bookshelves. The same scent of old paper and cologne that always reminded me of my father.

I turned to the bodyguard. "You'll have to wait outside. Wouldn’t it be better?"

"As you wish, madam." He bowed and stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

With a sigh, I lowered myself into the leather chair and looked up at Peppe.

"Let’s get to work."

Peppe wasted no time. He pulled out a tablet, swiping through several reports before handing it to me.

"We’ve been keeping an eye on Sinclair Enterprises, just as you instructed," he said.

I skimmed through the documents, nodding. "And?"

"Your husband has a major investment coming up. He’s been discreet about it, but we managed to get intel. A technology merger—worth billions. If it goes through, it’ll put him in an even stronger position in the industry."

I leaned back, absorbing the information.

"And if it doesn’t go through?"

Peppe’s lips curled into a slow smile. "Then he suffers a major financial hit. Not enough to break him, but enough to rattle his confidence and shake his investors."

Perfect.

I set the tablet down and folded my hands on the desk. "I want it gone."

Peppe didn’t blink. "I already have a plan. We’ll send an anonymous tip to the media—fabricate a scandal around the investment. If we hit the right nerves, investors will start pulling out before they even sign the contracts."

"Do it."

Peppe gave a firm nod, already pulling out his phone. I watched as he made the call, speaking in hushed tones. It was done in minutes.

"It’s in motion," he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

I exhaled, a slow smirk forming. This was only the beginning.

---

By the time it reached afternoon, the news was already catching fire.

"BREAKING NEWS: RUMORS SURROUND NOEL SINCLAIR’S UPCOMING INVESTMENT—INSIDER SOURCES CLAIM IT’S IN TROUBLE."

I turned off my phone.

A knock sounded at my office door.

"Come in," I called.

Nirvana strolled in, her usual mischievous smirk in place. She tossed her purse onto my couch before plopping down beside it, beside me.

"So," she drawled, "is it you?"

I didn’t hesitate. "It was me."

Nirvana chuckled, shaking her head. "Damn, girl. You don’t waste time."

I leaned back in the couch, arms crossed. "I’m not here to play, Nirvana. He’s not just going to suffer. He’s going to pay with blood."

Her grin widened. "Now that is the Tempest I know."

I reached for the glass of water on my desk, taking a slow sip. "This is only the first step. There’s more to come."

Nirvana propped her legs onto the coffee table. "You’re really going for the kill, huh?"

I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. "They killed my family. I’m just returning the favor."

The room fell silent for a beat. Nirvana studied me carefully before nodding in approval. "Well, whatever you need, I’m in. Just say the word."

A faint smile ghosted my lips. "Good. Because this is only the beginning."

And I didn't think it would be ending soon.