Page 123 of The Temporary Bride

I sit with her for a while, just holding her hand and listening to the monitor. Now that I know she’s going to be okay, the argument starts to resurface in my head. Shame moves through me as I remember my anger, my refusal to listen to her as she tried to defend herself.

I believe Chloe. She wasn’t behind the breach. She was right—it makes no sense for her to jeopardize everything she’s worked so hard for. I’ve seen her over these past few months, throwing herself into Eclipse Studios and into our relationship. That isn’t something she’d be willing to throw away.

I need answers. I need to clear her name.

I pull out my phone and dial the number for our family’s private security firm. The secretary on the other end picks up after two rings.

“Sentinel Security Services. How may I direct your call?”

“This is Tristan Thorne. I need to speak with someone on my family’s detail regarding a network security breach at my company.”

“Of course, Mr. Thorne. One moment, please.”

The line clicks over to hold music, and I glance back at Chloe, her face pale against the hospital sheets. I take a breath, listening to the saxophone playing tinnily through the speaker.

A moment later, a new voice comes on the line. “Mr. Thorne, this is Jason Carter, head of cyber security. How can I assist you?”

“I need your team to track down the source of a security breach at Thorne Enterprises. Proprietary files were accessed and downloaded to a computer at MediaSphere, and I need to know who’s responsible.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Carter says, his tone crisp.

“I have reason to believe that the computer’s owner wasn’t the source of the breach,” I add. “So it must have been someone else within the company.”

“Understood, Mr. Thorne. We’ll start our investigation immediately and keep you updated with any findings.”

“Thank you.” I end the call and put my phone away.

I take Chloe’s hand in mine, my thumb moving in small circles across the back of it.

“Stay with me, Chloe,” I murmur. “I need you. We’ll figure this out together, I promise. Just fight, okay? Fight for us.”

Her hand stays limp in mine, but I hold on. The beeping of the machines is the only sound in the room.

Over the next two days, Chloe stays heavily sedated while the swelling goes down. I don’t leave.

I barely leave the chair beside her bed. I sleep in it, eat whatever gets put in front of me, and wake up every few hours to check the monitor. My assistant brings a bag from the house with clothes and a phone charger. Her family comes through at various points, and my brothers come through too. I’m glad for the company, but I can’t really focus on any of it. Nothing exists outside this room.

Every time I look at her, I think about the moment when she slipped her wedding ring off her finger. I’ve got it in my pocket—I grabbed it off the desk on my way out the door after her, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to put it down since. She took it off because I made her take it off. Because I stood in my own fucking office and told her she didn’t matter. I get to think about that every hour until she wakes up and gives me the chance to fix it.

The doctors come through on their rounds and tell me she’s stable and healing as expected. I nod and go back to sitting beside her, holding her hand, talking low and quiet about whatever comes into my head. I don’t know if any of it gets through. I keep doing it anyway, because the alternative is sitting here in silence, and I can’t do that.

Two days after we first came to the hospital, as I sit beside Chloe, my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a call from Sentinel Security Services. Reluctantly, I let go of Chloe’s hand and step out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.

“This is Tristan,” I say, my voice hushed.

“Mr. Thorne, it’s Carter from Sentinel Security. We’ve completed the next phase of our investigation. We accessed the security footage from the MediaSphere building on the day of the breach and ran facial recognition on everyone who came through the relevant floor.”

My heart pounds in my chest. In all of the chaos, I’d almost forgotten about my request to the security company. “And?”

“With facial recognition matching, we’ve discovered who accessed the files.”

“Who?”

I listen as he explains their findings. When he’s finished, run a hand through my hair, staring into the middle distance.

There’s no fucking way.

How could this happen? How could I have been so blind?