I wasn’t merely an heiress.
I was chairwoman of Marlowe Family Holdings, the controlling lender behind Vale Hospitality’s largest expansion loan.
The “rich man” I had married came from a family whose wealth was largely leveraged.
Adrian had warned me before our wedding that his family was difficult. He hadn’t told them who I was because he wanted them to accept me without my surname opening doors.
It had been a foolish experiment.
Now it was finished.
Veronica laughed too loudly. “That’s absurd.”
The aunt whispered, “Veronica…”
“What?”
“She’s on the Marlowe board.”
I bent down and picked up one of the folders that had fallen open.
Inside was a typed list of “recommended transfers.”
My brokerage account.
My Manhattan apartment.
My voting rights in two private funds.
They had investigated me.
Not enough to understand who controlled the companies behind those assets, but enough to know I had money.
