Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

The recording We decided to be cautious and check what was on that flash drive once everyone left the company. It was a little after 10 PM, and since we weren't certain if the drive was password protected, Aren and Neil met us in our full of equipment computer office. We locked the doors after making sure that all the other employees were gone from that floor, and ceremoniously plugged the USB into my computer. | checked if the flash drive wasn’t infected before | opened its content, holding my breath. There was a single aufile on it. Aren, Norton, Alan, and Neil sat aroundas | opened it. The recording started with scracks and distorted sounds, which lasted about a minute. It felt discouraging. | skipped the record on fast-forward until finally, we heard two male voices. “The police want to reopen the case. Someone must have tipped them off,” the first man said in a low-pitched hoarse voice.

“What do you mean, someone?! It was your fucking job to make sure that no one ever digs in Liling’s case!” the second man roared.

| recognized that second voice, and so did Aren-the voice belonged to his father, James Winton. | stopped the recording and looked at my husband. His jaw was tense, his cold eyes locked firmly on the computer screen displaying the graphic wave of the recording. | placed my hand on top of his fisted palm. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear it alone first?” | asked him.

He took a deep breath.”No, let's play it here and now.” | looked at Alan, Norton, and Neil. They all sat still, as if the tension in the room restricted them from any movement. | turned the recorded file back on.

“I took care of the pathologist, so he will stay quiet. But there's a rumor that someone ordered a second, independent report along with your dead wife's toxicology,” the first man explained.

“How the hell did it happen, Richardson?! You assuredthat none of your men would touch the case again, and now this?! What did | pay you for?!” James Winton thundered. “Watch it, Winton,” Richardson hissed. “I was paid for turning a blind eye to the fact that you murdered your wife, who wanted to leave you and take her money with her. And | don’t recall receiving the money from you. As | recall, it was a Chinese guy who carried the money, and | don’t assthat was a member of your family,” he said coldly.

A sound of frustration escaped James Winton’s throat. “I will pay you more...” he groaned angrily. “Just take care of that other pathology report.” Richardson chuckled. “Consider it done.” The recorded file ended soon after his words. As the player turned off, we stayed in silence for about a minute, processing what we had heard.

“Wow... now that’s sserious shit...” Alan was the first one to comment.

Neil sighed heavily, smirking at him. “Tellabout it.” Norton glanced atbefore silently going back to his desk to type something on his computer. Aren hid his face in his hands.

“Handsome, are you all right?” | asked softly, gently sliding my hand down his back When he turned his eyes my way, a faint smile curved his lips. “I knew that this cold fucker murdered my mother, but | guess it’s different to hear him talk about it... I've been waiting many years for this moment.” Looking deep into his beautiful black irises, | knew that he was hurting. Before meeting the Winton fanily, I could never imagine how anyone could be so cruel, greedy, and calculated, but every single one of them was like this.

| guess that Vanessa fit into this sick family perfectly, while Liling fell in love with the very wrong type of guy and paid the most severe price for her love.

| leaned closer to Aren and kissed his temple. “You know that | am here for you, right?”l whispered.

He smiled atand stroked my cheek, but | could see how badly this recording had messed him up.

“George Richardson, the former Chef of the Greenwich Police Department, retired in 2020,” Norton suddenly announced, reading from his screen.

“What?” Alan snorted. “You found him already? That's not fair! | wanted to have sfun too!” Of course, the rest of us ignored Alan's grunting, shifting our eyes to Norton's computer, There was a picture of a half-bald guy with grey hair and narrow, wide-set grey eyes. His whole expression emanated hostility and deviousness.

“So this is the guy who helped cover up my mother’s murder...” Aren clenched his fist, staring at the screen.

| touched his arm, trying to soothe his anger. “We will make them pay,” | muttered.

“Of course, we will!” Alan backed up my statement. “And if, for sreason, using legal means is impossible, Cora, Norton, and | will make their lives a living hell.” He grinned wickedly.

Aren smirked and high-fived Norton and Alan. “Thanks, guys. | think I'm not paying you enough.” Neil rushed toward Aren and stared intensely at him. “Speaking of not paying enough..” Aren shifted his eyes at him, his smile turning cold. “Don’t push it, Neil You are most likely the best-paid assistant in New York.” | couldn’t help but laugh at Neil's pitiful stare. “At least promise him a good vacation. He truly deserves it.” | said to my husband.

Aren sighed. “Very well. Neil, | promise to send you on a good vacation ... as soon as we finish all our recent projects.” “But sof them have their release date next year!” Neil protested.

Aren glared at him. “Take it or leave it.” Once Neil reluctantly sealed his lips, we could get back to the corrupted former chef of the Greenwich Police Department. Apparently, James Winton and whoever else paid him must have been very generous since that man owned a mansion worth millions of dollars and a few luxurious cars.

“I can trace his every bank account and see what kind of payments he received over the years,” Norton said, his eyes blazing in excitement.

“Then | will try to find out who was responsible for that second pathology report and toxicology analysis,” Alan claimed.

Aren nodded in approval. “Perfect. Cora and | will talk to our friend in the FBI tomorrow, and together we will try to cup with a plan.” As we were packing our computers, ready to leave, Neil blocked our way out and frowned.” Wait a minute... but what am | supposed to do in the meantime?” Aren patted his shoulder and smirked. “You will make sure this company doesn't fall apart in my absence and prove that | am not paying too much.” ork Aren’s bright mood seemed to vanish as soon as we left the company. He kept smiling at me, but | could see that he was forcing himself every the curled up his lips. | wanted to ignore it, but the mood only worsened as his pretended smiles turned into an indifferent cold expression, as if he had beca different person. | waited until we got home, hoping it would change, but his mask was still there even when there were only the two of us. He didn’t say a word while we were in the elevator on our way to the penthouse. His mind was elsewhere, and he leftalone to face his emotionlessness Aren walked into the hall and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it on the sofa. “We have a lot of work tomorrow. It would be better if we slept separately,” he said coldly.

It might have been a rational suggestion, but it hurt. We were supposed to be celebrating, but why did it feel as if | was being punished? | refused to end this day surrounded by his coldness. | stood behind him, my arms sliding around his waist. “Don’t do that, please...” | muttered, my voice cracking “Do what?” he said harshly. He stayed still as if he was completely indifferent to my touch.

“Don’t lock yourself away from me...” | whispered, nuzzling his back. “You pretended to be fine in front of Alan, Norton, and Neil, and now...” An icy chuckle left his lips. “Would you rather | be as fake in front of you as in front of them?” That hurt even more, but I didn’t want to give up. | hugged him even tighter. “I want you to admit that you are hurting. Your father... what he did... | cannot even imagine what you are going through.” He huffed. “Right, you cannot imagine.” He grabbed my wrists and yanked my arms off of his waist before turning around, looking atwith a cold smile. “When | told you that | couldn’t give you a romantic relationship, this is what | meant. | don’t have the luxury of feeling how you wantto feel; otherwise, we will both end up dead. And | certainly don’t want your goddamn pity.” “It’s not pity! I'm doing the best | can to support you! I'm fighting on your side, Aren! And all | wanted was to give you scomfort!” | shouted, my chest squeezing harder by the second.

“I'm not after comfort, Cora, I'm after revenge. I'm prepared to be ruthless, and I'm prepared to get my hands dirty in the process. | treasure you deeply because you are capable like no other woman I've met but don’t mistake it for anything else. If you don’t like it, you can becmy wife only on paper, or you can suck it up and learn to cope with that for the next two years.” | stared at him numbly, swallowing shallow breaths in a rush. | felt as if something was crushing my entire ribcage, squeezing the life out of me. He looked atwith eyes filled with void, endless and cold. My lips slowly curved into a bitter smile. “All our nights together... was it just... fun?” | breathed out in pain.

His eyes stayed locked onfor a minute while | inwardly begged him to deny it.” Goodnight, Cora,” he said, ending my torture with one quick stab before walking upstairs to the bedroom.