Chapter 7 Truth Approaching

# Chapter 7: Truth Approaching

The morning after our clandestine wedding, I woke to find Callum already dressed, standing by the window of our hotel suite. His profile was sharp against the London skyline, tension evident in the set of his shoulders.

"You're up early," I murmured, drawing the sheet around me as I sat up.

He turned, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I've been making arrangements for our return to the estate. Father will be expecting us by noon."

Reality crashed back like a cold wave. In the light of day, what we'd done seemed even more reckless—a legal and moral labyrinth we'd willingly entered, with no clear path out.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Callum asked, reading my expression with unsettling accuracy.

I shook my head. "Not about us. Just about... everything else."

He crossed to the bed, sitting beside me and taking my hand. The simple gold band on my finger caught the morning light—a stark contrast to the ornate diamond Thomas had given me.

"We'll face it together," he promised, bringing my hand to his lips. "As husband and wife."

The words sent a shiver through me—part thrill, part terror. "What about Clara? She was supposed to meet me for dinner last night."

A cold smile played at Callum's lips. "Clara received an urgent message about a legal matter in Edinburgh. She left on the evening train."

"You arranged that," I realized.

"I couldn't have her interfering," he admitted. "Not until everything was in place."

I studied his face—the face I'd come to love despite every rational warning. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

His eyes met mine, unexpectedly vulnerable. "I've thought of nothing but you for months. How to have you. How to keep you."

He kissed me then, slow and deep, his hand tangling in my hair. When he pulled away, his eyes were dark with promise. "We have two hours before we need to leave."

Later, as our car approached the Ashford estate, I felt my anxiety mounting. The flash drive Callum had given me weighed heavy in my pocket—our insurance policy, he'd called it, though he'd refused to tell me exactly what it contained.

"Remember," Callum said as the gates opened before us, "let me do most of the talking. My father respects strength. If we show any weakness, he'll exploit it."

The house was quiet as we entered, the staff conspicuously absent. Callum led me to Thomas's study, his hand warm and steady against my lower back. Without knocking, he pushed open the door.

Thomas sat behind his massive desk, his expression unreadable as he watched us enter. Clara stood by the window, her return from Edinburgh a concerning surprise. The air in the room felt charged, dangerous.

"So," Thomas said quietly, "the prodigal son returns. And with my wife in tow."

Callum's posture remained relaxed, confident. "Father. I believe we have matters to discuss."

Thomas's eyes flicked to me, then back to his son. "Indeed. Perhaps you'd care to explain why you both disappeared for twenty-four hours? Or why Clara found Juliette's room empty when she returned from her mysteriously urgent trip?"

"I can explain that," Callum replied smoothly. He reached into his jacket and withdrew an envelope, which he placed on Thomas's desk. "This should clarify our situation."

Thomas opened the envelope, removing the marriage certificate. For a moment, the only sound in the room was his breathing as he read the document once, twice. When he looked up, his face had drained of color.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice dangerously soft.

"Exactly what it appears to be," Callum answered. "A marriage certificate, legally binding, between myself and Juliette."

Clara moved forward, snatching the document from Thomas's hands. Her eyes widened as she scanned it. "This is absurd. It can't be legal."

"I assure you, it is," Callum countered. "Judge Morris and Bishop Harrington were most thorough in their verification of the Consanguinity Clause. You'll find their signatures and seals on page two."

Thomas rose slowly from his chair, his eyes never leaving his son's face. "You married my wife? Your stepmother?"

"Technically," Callum said, "I married a woman who was already my father's wife, yes. But under the clause, with your implicit consent—"

"My consent?" Thomas's voice rose sharply. "When did I ever consent to this madness?"

Callum nodded to me, and I stepped forward, my heart hammering. "The prenuptial agreement," I said, finding my voice. "Section twelve, paragraph four. It grants permission for 'future family arrangements as deemed necessary by either party.'"

Clara laughed, the sound brittle. "That clause refers to business arrangements, not bigamy!"

"Not according to Judge Morris," Callum replied calmly. "The language is deliberately vague—a fact I'm sure Thomas's lawyers would confirm, if we were to make this matter public."

Thomas stared at us, disbelief giving way to cold fury. "So this is blackmail. You're threatening to expose our family to scandal unless I... what? Accept this perversion?"

"Not blackmail," Callum corrected. "A statement of fact. Juliette is legally my wife now, as well as yours. We're simply informing you of our new... arrangement."

Thomas moved from behind the desk with surprising speed, his fist connecting with Callum's jaw before any of us could react. Callum staggered back but didn't fall, a trickle of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Thomas!" I cried, moving between them.

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. "Did you know?" he demanded, shaking me slightly. "Was this your plan all along? To marry the father for his money and the son for his youth?"

"Let her go," Callum growled, straightening. "Now."

"Or what?" Thomas challenged, his grip tightening. "You'll fight me? Your own father?"

"If I have to."

The tension between them was electric, primal—two alpha males facing off over territory. Over me.

"Stop it, both of you," Clara interjected, her voice cutting through the tension. "This solves nothing. Thomas, release her. Callum, sit down. We need to approach this rationally."

Surprisingly, both men obeyed, though the hostility between them remained palpable. I rubbed my arm where Thomas's fingers had left red marks, retreating to stand closer to Callum.

"Let's be clear about what's happening here," Clara said, assuming control of the situation with practiced ease. "You've created a legal mess, one that could destroy the Ashford name if it becomes public. So we need to contain it."

Thomas's laugh was bitter. "Contain it? My son has married my wife, Clara. How exactly do you propose we 'contain' that?"

"By keeping it private," she replied. "A family matter, dealt with internally."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" I asked, speaking directly to Clara for the first time.

Her smile was cold. "It means, my dear Juliette, that you have a choice to make. You can't be married to both Ashford men—not in practice, whatever legal fiction you've created. So decide. Now. Which marriage are you honoring?"

Before I could respond, Callum stood. "That's not her decision to make. She's my wife. The second marriage supersedes the first under the clause."

"It doesn't work that way, and you know it," Clara snapped. "Both marriages exist simultaneously under the legal loophole you exploited. The question is which one will be acknowledged socially."

Thomas had been watching this exchange silently, his initial rage cooling into something more calculated. "I have a better question," he said quietly. "What does Juliette want? After all, she's the one who's supposedly married to both of us."

All eyes turned to me, and I felt the weight of their expectations—Thomas's hurt, Clara's contempt, Callum's desperate hope.

"I..." My voice faltered. What did I want? The security and respect Thomas had offered, or the passionate connection I'd found with Callum? The life I'd built as Mrs. Thomas Ashford, or the uncertain future with his son?

"She doesn't need to answer that," Callum said, moving to stand beside me protectively. "Our marriage is legal. We have the documentation. And we have more."

He nodded to me, and with trembling fingers, I removed the flash drive from my pocket, placing it on Thomas's desk.

"What's this?" Thomas asked warily.

"Insurance," Callum replied. "Financial records, correspondence, evidence of certain... creative accounting practices at Ashford Enterprises. Nothing illegal, of course, but certainly embarrassing if it were to become public."

Thomas's face drained of color again, this time with genuine shock. "You would betray your own family? The company that bears your name?"

"I would protect what's mine," Callum countered, his hand finding mine. "Including my wife."

The room fell silent as Thomas stared at the flash drive, then at our joined hands. Something shifted in his expression—the anger giving way to a cold, assessing look I'd never seen before.

"Very well," he said finally. "If that's how you want to play this, son, then we'll play. But remember—I taught you everything you know about strategy."

He pressed a button on his desk phone. "Mrs. Reynolds, please have security escort Mr. Callum Ashford and Mrs. Juliette to the guest house. They'll be staying there until further notice."

"Thomas," I began, but he cut me off with a raised hand.

"You've made your choice, Juliette," he said, his voice flat. "Now you'll live with it. Both of you will."

As security arrived to escort us out, Clara caught my arm, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "You know what you're doing is illegal, don't you? Bigamy is a criminal offense, regardless of what legal fiction Callum has created."

I pulled away from her, my chin lifting. "Then why aren't you calling the police?"

Her smile was venomous. "Because Thomas still cares for you, God knows why. But that won't last forever. He'll come to his senses."

"Or perhaps he'll come to accept reality," I countered, finding courage in Callum's presence beside me. "That his son and his wife have found something real together."

"Something real?" Clara laughed. "Oh, you poor, naive girl. Do you really think Callum loves you? He's using you to hurt his father, to claim what he believes should be his."

Before I could respond, Callum took my arm, leading me away from her. "Don't listen to her," he murmured. "She's trying to divide us."

As we were escorted across the grounds to the guest house—a charming but unmistakably isolated cottage at the edge of the estate—I couldn't help but wonder if Clara might be right. Had I been a pawn in some elaborate game of revenge between father and son?

The security guards left us at the door with the terse information that our belongings would be brought over shortly. As the door closed behind them, Callum pulled me into his arms, his face buried in my neck.

"We did it," he whispered. "The hard part is over. Now we just need to wait him out."

I pulled back slightly to look at his face. "Wait him out? Callum, your father just exiled us to the edge of his property. He's furious."

"He's calculating," Callum corrected. "Trying to determine his next move. But we have the advantage—the legal marriage, the flash drive. He'll come around, if only to protect the Ashford name from scandal."

I moved to the window, looking back at the main house where I'd lived as Thomas's wife. From this distance, it looked imposing, fortress-like. "And if he doesn't? What then?"

Callum came up behind me, his arms encircling my waist. "Then we leave. Start fresh somewhere else. I have resources my father doesn't know about, connections outside his sphere of influence."

His lips found my neck, trailing kisses up to my ear. "But for now, Mrs. Ashford, we have this place to ourselves. No need to be quiet. No need to rush."

Despite everything—the confrontation, the uncertainty, Clara's poisonous words—I felt myself responding to his touch, leaning back against him as his hands roamed my body.

"Is this our honeymoon, then?" I asked, my attempt at humor undercut by the breathlessness in my voice.

"The first of many," he promised, turning me to face him. "I meant what I said in those vows, Juliette. You're mine now, and I'm yours. Whatever comes next, we face it together."

As he led me toward the bedroom, I pushed away my doubts, my fears, the voice in my head that whispered I was making the biggest mistake of my life. For better or worse, I had chosen my path. I had chosen Callum.

And there was no going back.