“Vanessa,” I said, the realization hitting me. “Does she know?”

“Vanessa knows what her father wants her to know,” Julian said cold. “But she is not blind.”

He walked over to the window, looking out into the dark, snowy expanse of the estate.

“This marriage was supposed to solidify our territories,” Julian said.

“But Arthur Whitmore has been using my shipping lanes to move his own cargo without my permission.”

He turned back to me, his silhouette sharp against the glass.

“And he used your husband’s death to clear the way.”

My grief was quickly replaced by a cold, sharp anger.

“He took everything from us,” I said, looking at Emma. “For money.”

“For power,” Julian corrected. “And to protect his seat in the Senate.”

The house phone began to ring again, its shrill tone cutting through the quiet room.

Julian didn’t answer it immediately.

He watched the red light flash, his jaw tight.

On the third ring, he reached out and picked up the receiver.

“Speak,” he said.

I watched his eyes as he listened to the voice on the other end.