The Woman Who Belonged to Herself
“My attorneys handled Rotterdam.”
“No, Adrian. They filed paperwork. Someone else handled the danger.” She set the cup upside down on a towel. “You never learned the difference.”
Before he could respond, Lena left the kitchen. She packed only what she had owned before the marriage: six dresses, two pairs of jeans, her grandmother’s rosewood jewelry box, and an old leather notebook.
From the false bottom of a hatbox, she removed two encrypted drives and a second passport bearing her full name.
Elena Simone Marlowe.
Adrian had always known her as Lena Marlow. He had never asked why she’d shortened it.