“I do not understand,” I said, squinting at the names. “This was a year before Marcus and I even met.”

“Look at the origin of the funds,” Dante said, pointing a finger at the screen. “And look at the destination.”

I read the names: Evelyn Shaw’s offshore account, transferring money directly into Marcus’s shell companies.

Then, another transfer, marked as a deposit for a high-stakes gambling syndicate in the city.

“Marcus was already drowning in debt to the local cartels before he ever spoke to you,” Dante said.

I stared at the numbers, the realization starting to settle in my chest like a physical weight.

“He did not just marry me and then get into trouble,” I whispered.

“No,” Dante said. “The debt came first. Evelyn Shaw was already his partner back then.”

He swiped the screen to show another document—a detailed background report on my family’s estate.

The file was dated months before Marcus first approached me at that charity gallery.

“They targeted you, Alessia,” Dante said, his voice dropping to a low, grim register.

“The entire relationship was a setup from the very beginning.”