The Betrayed Heiress's Vengeful Flash Marriage

Bennett held the heavy, armored door of the Rolls-Royce open. He placed his large hand over the doorframe, shielding her head. Ashley ducked inside, the heavy cashmere coat swallowing her frame. Bennett slid into the seat next to her. He pulled the door shut. The heavy thud sealed them inside. The chaotic noise of the wind and the estate vanished, replaced by the absolute, soundproof silence of the cabin. The driver shifted the car into gear. The V12 engine purred. The car glided away from the Sawyer estate. Ashley exhaled. The tension drained from her spine. She sank into the soft leather. The heater blasted warm air over her freezing legs. Her wet hair began to thaw. Drops of cold water slid down her pale cheeks and dripped onto the leather seat. Bennett frowned. He opened the center console and pulled out a thick, dry microfiber towel. He didn't hand it to her. He draped it over her head. His large hands moved over the towel. He rubbed her hair. The pressure was firm but incredibly gentle. He leaned in. The distance between them vanished. Ashley breathed in, and her lungs filled with his scent. Her heart skipped a beat. A sudden, sharp heat flared in her chest. She looked at him through the gap in the towel. The memory of his body crushing hers, shielding her from the warehouse fire, hit her brain. Her throat tightened. Her eyes burned. She jerked her head back, pulling away from his hands. She cleared her throat. "Thank you. I can do it." Bennett's hands hung in the air for a second. A muscle in his jaw twitched. He slowly lowered his hands and rested them on his knees. "Of course." Ashley took a deep breath. She looked at the assistant sitting in the front passenger seat. "Give me your laptop. The encrypted one." The assistant blinked. He turned his head and looked at Bennett. Bennett gave a single, sharp nod. The assistant handed a heavy, military-grade laptop over the seat. Ashley placed it on her knees. She flipped the screen open. Her fingers hit the keys. The clicking sound filled the quiet car like rapid machine-gun fire. Lines of complex code scrolled down the black screen. She bypassed the first two firewalls of the Swiss banking portal in under thirty seconds. Bennett turned his head. His dark eyes locked onto the screen. He watched her fingers move. His eyes narrowed, a sharp gleam of intense curiosity flashing in his pupils. Ashley breached the joint trust account she shared with Devon. The screen showed a pending wire transfer. Devon was trying to move ten million dollars of liquid cash into an offshore account. Ashley's lips curled into a sneer. She typed a rapid sequence of commands, injecting a block-code into the transaction protocol. The progress bar on the screen froze at 99%. She hit the 'Enter' key. The screen flashed red. The account was locked. She didn't stop. She accessed Devon's personal checking account. She highlighted the two million dollar balance, routed it through three dummy servers, and wired the entire amount to an African Wildlife Conservation charity. She hit confirm. The balance hit $0.00. Miles away, in a different car, Devon's phone vibrated violently. He stared at the zero balance. He punched the window of his car, screaming in agony. Ashley closed the laptop with a sharp snap. She handed it back to the stunned assistant. She turned her head. Bennett was staring at her. He tapped his long index finger against the leather armrest. His voice was a low, dangerous purr. "My fiancée seems to have a lot of secrets." Ashley's stomach tightened. She kept her face blank. She shrugged her shoulders. "My grandfather's research involved massive amounts of encrypted biological data," Ashley said, her face perfectly blank. "To help him organize it, I started studying data security and programming when I was young." Bennett stared at her. He did not know if it was a lie. He didn't care. He reached out and brushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear. His rough thumb grazed the sensitive skin of her earlobe. A violent shiver ripped down Ashley's spine. The air in the car suddenly felt thick and heavy. Bennett's private cell phone rang. The sharp piercing tone shattered the tension. Bennett pulled the phone from his pocket. He pressed it to his ear. "Speak." The voice of the Hawkins family butler leaked through the speaker, high-pitched and panicked. "Sir! It's your grandfather. He's collapsed. His vitals are crashing." Bennett's entire demeanor changed. The warmth vanished. A terrifying, lethal coldness radiated from his body. "Turn the sirens on," Bennett ordered the driver. "Get to the estate medical wing. Now." Hidden strobe lights in the Rolls-Royce's grille flashed to life. The driver slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The massive car surged forward. The physical force threw Ashley backward. Her shoulders slammed into the seat. Bennett's arm shot out. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her hard against his chest, bracing her against the violent swerving of the car. Ashley's cheek pressed against his hard pectoral muscle. She could hear the rapid, heavy thud of his heart. Ashley pushed herself up slightly. She looked him dead in the eye. "What are his exact symptoms? What meds are they pushing?" Bennett looked at her. He didn't question why she was asking. "Bradycardia. Oxygen dropping. They pushed epinephrine. No response." Ashley's brain processed the data. Her grandfather's teachings clicked into place. "It's not organ failure," Ashley said, her voice razor-sharp. "He's been poisoned."