The Intern Stole My First-Class Seat While My Fiancé Wrapped His Coat Around Her and Called Me Jealous—So I Got Off the Train, Canceled Our Wedding That Night…

The honeymoon in Barbados was canceled before their plane ever left the tarmac at Andrews Air Force Base.

Twenty-four hours after the wedding, Claire sat in the high-security briefing room beneath the Sterling-Vance Estate. Gone was the breathtaking silk wedding gown, replaced by a sharp black blazer and trousers. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Beside her, Marcus sat at the head of the mahogany conference table, reviewing digital schematics projected onto the glass wall.

Senator Vance and Director Reynolds were present, their expressions grave.

"The seal on that envelope contained a 256-bit quantum cryptographic key," Director Reynolds explained, pointing to the glowing blue code on the screen. "It opens a safe-deposit box at the Banque de Genève—a vault that belonged to Marcus’s father, Arthur Sterling, before his mysterious fatal car crash eight years ago."

Claire looked at Marcus. "Your father left something behind?"

"My father didn't die in a car accident, Claire," Marcus said quietly, reaching across the table to clasp her hand. "Victor tampered with his brake lines after my father discovered that Victor was funneling classified defense AI algorithms to a black-market cartel known as 'The Apex Initiative.'"

"And Victor gave us the key?" Claire asked, her sharp mind working through the logic. "Why would he hand us the evidence?"

"Because it’s not just evidence, Claire," Senator Vance spoke up, his voice heavy with years of regret. "It’s a dead man’s switch. Arthur hid the master access codes to the United States' automated defense grid inside that vault. If Victor gets those codes, he can sell total control of our national security infrastructure to the highest bidder."

"And if he had the key, he would have opened it himself," Claire deduced instantly, her eyes flashing with realization. "He doesn't have the biometric authorization. The vault requires Arthur’s direct bloodline."

"It requires Marcus," Director Reynolds confirmed. "Victor gave you the key because he needs you to open the box for him. He’s laying a trap in Switzerland."

Marcus turned to Claire, his dark eyes filled with fierce protection. "I’m flying to Geneva tonight with a tactical strike team. You are staying here at the estate under maximum guard."

Claire stood up from her chair, slamming her hands onto the glass table.

"No," Claire said firmly, her voice echoing through the room with absolute authority.

"Claire..." Marcus began, his tone warning.

"Don't 'Claire' me, Marcus Sterling," she cut him off, stepping close to him, looking straight into his eyes. "Two days ago, you stood at the altar and promised I would never have to fight alone again. That goes both ways. I spoke three foreign languages fluently before I was twenty-two, I know the Swiss banking privacy laws better than your legal team, and I am not sitting in a golden cage while my husband walks into an ambush!"

Senator Vance suppressed a small, proud smile. Director Reynolds cleared his throat, looking at the ceiling.

Marcus stared down at his wife. The fierce, unyielding intelligence in her eyes was the exact reason he had fallen so deeply, hopelessly in love with her. He reached up, cupping her cheek with his large, warm hand.