Chapter 3The Admiral's Secret Wife

The heavy steel door of the brig slammed shut behind me.

Grant came on the third day.

“Admit it was negligence,” he said from the other side of the bars. “If you do, I’ll step in. I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

He paused, letting the offer sink in. “You’ll get a formal reprimand, a demotion, but you’ll get to stay in the Navy. It’s the best you can hope for.”

I didn’t move.

“Audrey, don’t be stubborn,” he pressed on. “You can’t win against my family, and you certainly can’t win against the Prices.”

“Just admit you made a mistake, and this will all be over.”

He was offering me a lifeline, on the condition that I get on my knees and confess to a crime I didn’t commit. Confess that I was a bad doctor, that I was incompetent, that I was unworthy of the uniform I wore.

A strange laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t believe I had ever loved this man.

I was fresh out of med school, an intern at the naval hospital, when I first met him. He was a SEAL commander back then. A training exercise went wrong—an IED explosion—and he was brought in with shrapnel in his chest, bleeding out and unconscious. On a makeshift operating table, I was the one who pulled three pieces of metal from his thoracic cavity.

When he woke up, the first thing he asked was my name.

After that, he pursued me with a clumsy, almost boyish intensity. I thought his cold exterior was just a shield. I was wrong. The coldness wasn’t a shield; it was who he was.

“What if I told you it was Victoria?” I asked, my voice calm as I met his eyes.

His brow furrowed instantly, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “Audrey, don't be ridiculous. Don't drag innocent people into this.”

“I know Victoria,” he continued, his tone final. “She would never do something like that.”

In his world, Victoria was forever the innocent princess, and I was forever the one making scenes, telling lies, making excuses.

“You know her?” I stood up and walked to the bars separating us. “Grant, what do you really know about her?”

I stared into his eyes. “You know that I would never shirk my duty. You know that in six years as a naval surgeon, I have a flawless record. You know how much my honor as an officer means to me. And yet, you choose to believe her, not me.”

“The evidence is against you,” he said, his voice turning colder still. “You were responsible for the emergency kit. You managed the inventory. How am I supposed to believe you?”

I laughed until my eyes burned.

“What if I told you the kit was tampered with the night before the delegation arrived? What if I told you Victoria knew about the attaché’s severe peanut allergy? What if I told you she specifically requested the catering include snacks made with peanut flour?”

His expression didn’t flicker. “Do you have proof?”

My heart stopped for a beat. He didn’t care about the truth. All he wanted was my submission.

“No,” I said, letting all emotion drain from my voice. “But I will find it.”

“Audrey,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Stop fighting this. It’s pointless. Admit your mistake, accept the punishment. It’s better for both of us.”

I took a step back from the bars. “Grant, when have you ever once considered what was better for me?”

He fell silent.

I looked at the man who had once made my heart race, and all I felt was a profound sense of pity.

“Mark my words, Grant,” I said softly. “The day will come when you will beg me for help. Remember that. You will come begging to me.”

He stared at me for a second, then a look of pure contempt crossed his face. “It seems seven days in the brig isn’t enough for you,” he sneered, turning to leave. “Keep dreaming, Audrey.”