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.