Chapter 83
Chapter 83:
“Sir?” his secretary’s voice crackled. “The board is ready for you p>
Elias took a deep breath. He smoothed his tie. He composed his face into the icy, impenetrable mask the world knew.
“I am coming,” he said.
He unlocked the door and walked out. In the hallway, he passed a junior analyst showing something on her phone to a colleague. The woman laughed—a genuine, bright sound. Her eyes crinkled at the corners.
Elias slowed his pace. He analyzed the smile. The tilt of the head. The relaxation of the shoulders.
He realized, with a sudden, sharp pang in his chest, that he had never seen Aurora smile like that. Not at him. At her grandfather, yes. At her code, yes. But never at him.
He felt a hollow ache in his stomach. He wanted that smile. He wanted it with a desperation that terrified him.
He resolved to read Chapter Two tonight.
The storm battered the windows of the Vane Estate in the Hamptons, rain lashing against the glass like handfuls of gravel. Inside, the fire in the hearth hissed and popped, casting long, dancing shadows across the room.
Matriarch Vane sat in her high-backed velvet chair. Her hands, thin and veined like parchment, clutched an old silver locket. She ran her thumb over the smooth metal, a repetitive, soothing motion that did nothing to quell the storm inside her chest.
“Nineteen years,” she whispered. Her voice was frail, barely audible over the thunder. “Nineteen years of silence p>
Eight grandsons stood in the shadows of the room, a wall of silent, respectful strength. They watched their grandmother, the iron woman who had held the family together, now crumbling under the weight of a grief that refused to heal.
“Grandmother,” the eldest grandson said softly, “The weather is turning. Perhaps you should rest p>
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She shook her head. Her eyes snapped open, and for a moment, the old fire was back. She struck her cane against the hardwood floor.
“I cannot rest!” she cried out. “The date is approaching. The anniversary. I have reviewed the investigator’s files again. The timeline… there are discrepancies in the official report of the fire. She did not die there. I know it in my bones, but the logic is finally catching up p>
She looked at the window, as if she could see through the miles of rain to the lights of New York. “The private investigator found hospital records from that night. A Jane Doe. Similar age. The trail ends in the city. The Sterling Conglomerate has been rudderless without its true heir for too long. My daughter’s legacy cannot end in ash. Prepare the jet. We leave tonight p>
“But your health—” another grandson started.
“If I die, I die seeking her!” she snapped. “I will not die waiting p>
In the heart of the Capital, inside the Kensington Mansion, the air was still and smelled of stale potpourri. Eleanor Kensington paced the length of her bedroom, her heels sinking into the thick carpet.
“They’re coming,” she hissed into her phone. “The Vanes. The old woman is flying in tonight. She claims she has new leads p>
She hung up and turned to the vanity where her daughter, Vivian, was applying a collagen face mask. Vivian looked bored, scrolling through Instagram with one hand.