“What is the meaning of this?” Pendelton asked, though his hand trembled as he took off his glasses.

“It means my cousin’s inheritance is cancelled,” Ethan said.

He stepped closer to the table, pulling a heavy manila folder from under his arm.

He dropped it onto the wood directly in front of Pendelton.

“Those are the complete toxicological reports from my private medical team,” Ethan said.

“They were taken forty-eight hours ago, away from the clinic you paid for, Jason.”

Jason took a step back, his boots scuffing the Persian rug.

“This is a setup,” Jason stammered, looking at the guards. “He’s not stable. He’s been in a coma for nine months.”

“I woke up five days ago,” Ethan said, his voice flat.

“My grandmother moved me to a secure facility the moment we realized what was in my system.”

Ethan looked at me then.

It was the first time our eyes had met since I had been brought to this house as his bride.

There was no warmth in his gaze, but there was a deep, silent recognition of what I had done to help him.