Chapter 4

His face went blank, but his hand slid to my waist.

The inspectors lifted their lenses.

Adrian pulled me against him.

His body pressed along mine. His palm spread over my side, warm but careful, nowhere near too low. He left just enough space between us to make me feel every inch of it.

His breath touched the corner of my mouth.

"Look at me," he whispered.

"I am looking at you."

"No. You're looking at a problem you plan to stab later."

"That problem is wearing an expensive watch."

"Try looking at your husband."

The word landed harder than it should have.

His thumb moved once against my waist. Not a caress. A warning.

"Say something sweet," I muttered.

"You have terrible timing."

"That's your sweet voice?"

"You want sweet?"

"I want this done."

His mouth brushed mine without fully kissing me. A tease. A threat.

My fingers caught in the front of his shirt before I could stop them.

His breath changed.

So did mine.

"Adrian," I warned.

"There. That's better. Say my name like you don't hate me."

"I do hate you."

"Then say it like you mean it."

He kissed me.

Not like the courtroom kiss. That one had been sharp and public, meant to shock the Tribunal into recording the bond.

This was slower.

His mouth moved over mine once, twice, giving me every chance to turn away.

I didn't.

His hand stayed at my waist, careful and maddeningly restrained. He could've pulled me tighter.

He didn't.

That choice made my skin prickle.

When he drew back, his lips hovered close enough for me to feel every breath.

"Convincing enough?" I asked.

"You tell me."

"I want another opinion."

"Ask the inspectors."

I shoved his shoulder. "Don't get pleased with yourself."

The lead inspector checked his slate. "The bond is active. Shared residence must still be verified. You will remain at the Rook estate until the contract expires or the Tribunal clears the appeal."

"Thirty days," I said.

"Thirty days," Adrian confirmed.

"And I get access to the clean record."

The inspector looked at him. "That access is restricted to the executor."

"Not under the marriage clause. My wife has equal access."

"Her mark was revoked."

"Her mark was suspended."

"The Tribunal declared her unfit."

I stepped between them. "The Tribunal declared me inconvenient. There's a difference."

Adrian's gaze cut toward me. "The clean record is in the east archive."

The inspectors stiffened.

I caught it. "You didn't tell me that."

"You didn't ask."

"I asked for my case file."

"The clean record isn't your case file. It's the original chain of witness access from the night your license was taken."

My throat tightened. "You have it?"

"Glasswake owns the archive."

"And you were going to keep that little detail to yourself?"

"I was going to show you after you stopped trying to escape."

"I wasn't escaping. I was looking for a way to make you regret touching me."

"You can do both in the archive."

The lead inspector closed his slate. "You have one hour before the audit team returns. If the record doesn't support your marriage claim, the contract will be reviewed."

"What happens if it fails?" I asked.

"Your appeal closes. His inheritance is frozen permanently."

The inspector turned to leave, then stopped.

"And Mrs. Rook? Don't attempt to access sealed memories. The penalty is criminal."

His eyes dropped to my palm.

"Especially your mother's."

Then he walked out.

The doors slammed shut behind the inspectors.

I faced Adrian. "Open the archive."

"You need to eat first."

"I need my life back."

"You need both hands steady if you're going to use a revoked mark."

"You know how to open it."

"Yes."

"Then move."

He didn't.

I took one step toward him. "What?"

"Rule one."

"We have rules now?"

"The marriage contract has rules."

"I didn't read the entire thing. You shoved it in front of me while the Tribunal was waiting to destroy me."

"Rule one says neither spouse may access private evidence without the other present."

"Fine. You'll be present."

"It also says neither spouse may lie about the purpose of an access attempt."

I folded my arms. "I'm trying to recover my license."

"That's part of it."

"And I want to know why your bank had my mother's sealed memory."

His eyes sharpened.

There. Another bruise.

"You knew it was there," I said.

"I knew there was a sealed record."

"Whose record?"

"Your mother's."

"And you never thought that mattered?"

"I thought opening it could get you killed."

"You already got my license taken. How much worse were you planning to make my day?"

He stepped in until my back hit the archive door.

The metal was cold through my dress. His body wasn't.

"You're going to listen to me," he said.

"You first."

"The archive doesn't care about your anger. It reads intent, blood, and oath history. If you force the seal, it'll take a memory as payment."

"Which one?"

"It chooses."

"Convenient."

"You think I built the system?"

"I think you inherited the profits."

His face came close. His breath warmed my cheek.

"And I think you keep picking fights because you're afraid of what you'll find when you stop."

I lifted my chin. "Open the door."

For one second, his hand hovered beside my waist.

He stopped before touching me.

That restraint was worse than contact.

"Say please," he murmured.

"I'd rather lose the appeal."

"No, you wouldn't."

"You don't know me."

"I know you keep your mother's last memory locked behind your ribs and pretend you don't need anyone to help you reach it."

My palm burned.

"Open. The. Door."

Adrian took my hand and pressed it to the black glass.

The mark on my palm spread beneath my skin. Silver lines crawled over my wrist, then climbed his fingers where he held me.

He inhaled sharply.

"That hurt?" I asked.

"Don't sound so disappointed."

"I was hoping."

"Liar."

The door scanned us both.

A deep click rolled through the wall.

Then the archive opened.

Rows of sealed memory cylinders filled the chamber. Most were dark. One column glowed pale blue, labeled with dates and witness numbers.

My mother's name appeared at the top.

I grabbed Adrian's sleeve. "Why is my mother's memory glowing?"