CHAPTER 002

Violet POV

The pounding began before sunrise.

It rattled the iron gates hard enough to shake me awake. I sat upright in bed, my heart racing as another loud bang echoed across the estate.

"Open the gate!"

"We want our money!"

"You can't hide forever!"

The voices blended into one furious roar. I threw on my cardigan and hurried to the window. A crowd had gathered outside the mansion, their faces twisted with anger.

Some held placards. Others gripped the bars of the gate, shaking them with enough force to make the metal groan.

I recognized many of them. Mr. Collins from the warehouse. Mrs. Turner from accounting. The security guards who used to greet my father every morning. People who had worked for the Ashworth family for years.

"What is happening?" I whispered.

A car pulled up beside the crowd, but instead of calming the situation, it made everything worse. The moment Helena stepped out, the shouting intensified.

"You promised we'd be paid last month!"

"My children haven't eaten properly in days!"

"You lied to us!"

Helena straightened her expensive coat, though the confident smile she wore looked strained.

"You are making a scene," she called out. "Return home. The company will settle everything soon."

"When?" A man stepped forward, his face red with frustration. "You've been saying that for months."

Helena glanced nervously toward the mansion before lowering her voice. "The funds are delayed."

"We checked." Another woman lifted several documents into the air. "The bank froze the accounts."

Silence spread through the crowd. Then someone shouted the words that seemed to split the morning apart.

"The Ashworth Group is bankrupt!"

The accusation hung in the cold air. Bankrupt. The word didn't make sense. My father had spent his entire life building the company. He used to say it wasn't just a business. It was a promise to every family that depended on it. He would never have allowed this.

Helena's face lost what little color remained. "That's enough," she snapped. "Leave this property immediately."

Nobody moved. Instead, the gates shook harder beneath dozens of angry hands. One of the security guards hurried toward Helena.

"Mrs. Ashworth, I think you should go inside."

For the first time since she'd married my father, I saw genuine fear in her eyes. She turned without another word and disappeared into the house.

The front doors slammed shut behind her. The shouting continued.

I remained frozen at my window until Mrs. Ellis knocked softly on my bedroom door.

"Don't stand there, child." She looked worried.

"They're saying terrible things downstairs."

"What happened?"

She sighed heavily. "I don't know everything. Only that the company owes more money than anyone imagined."

I frowned. "How is that possible?"

"I wish I knew." She rested a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Stay out of Helena's way today."

That proved impossible. The moment I stepped into the hallway, Ivy nearly walked straight into me. She looked furious.

"There you are."

"I was just coming downstairs."

She folded her arms. "You always show up when everything is falling apart."

I blinked. "What?"

Jade appeared beside her with an expression that was almost amused. "Mother says you've brought nothing but bad luck since Dad died."

My chest tightened. "I didn't..."

"You didn't what?" Ivy interrupted. "You didn't curse this family?"

"I don't know anything about the business."

"You never know anything." She brushed past me hard enough to knock my shoulder into the wall. Jade followed, offering me a sweet smile that never reached her eyes.

"Maybe things will get better when you're gone."

Their footsteps faded downstairs. I stood there for a long moment, trying to understand how a business could simply disappear. My father had planned everything carefully. He always had. None of this felt right.

By midday the mansion no longer resembled the home I remembered. Phones rang endlessly. Lawyers arrived carrying thick folders. Several men in dark suits left looking angrier than when they had entered. Even the servants whispered openly now.

I found Helena pacing inside the drawing room, speaking rapidly into her phone.

"No." She gripped the receiver so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I told you we're arranging new financing." A pause. Then her voice rose. "You can't liquidate everything!"

She slammed the phone down so hard the crystal paperweight beside it toppled over.

I hesitated in the doorway. "Helena?"

She spun toward me. "What?"

"I was wondering if..." The words caught in my throat. "...if there's anything I can do."

For a heartbeat she simply stared. Then she laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"You?" Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you think you're capable of doing?"

"I could help organize the files or speak with the staff."

"You?" She stepped closer until only a few inches separated us. "You've spent your entire life living off this family."

"I never asked..."

"You've contributed nothing."

"I only wanted to help."

"I don't need your help." Her voice echoed through the room. "I need one day without looking at your ugly dirty face."

The words struck harder than any slap. I lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." She pointed toward the door. "Get out."

I left before she could say anything else. My feet carried me through familiar hallways almost without thinking. Past the music room. Past the library. Past portraits coated with a thin layer of dust. Until I reached the only room Helena rarely entered.

My father's study.

The scent greeted me first. Leather. Old books. A hint of cedar. Nothing had changed. His desk remained exactly where he'd left it. Shelves lined every wall from floor to ceiling.

A globe stood beside the fireplace. One of his reading glasses still rested atop an open ledger.

I closed the door quietly behind me. Whenever the house became unbearable, I came here. It was the only place where I could still feel him.

My fingers brushed across the polished wood of his desk. "You always said work should serve people," I murmured. "Not the other way around."

I smiled faintly. He used to bring me here after school. While he finished paperwork, I'd sit on the sofa reading novels far above my age.

Sometimes I'd grow bored and ask endless questions. He answered every single one. Even the silly ones. Especially the silly ones.

My gaze settled on a silver-framed photograph. Dad had one arm around my shoulders while I grinned at the camera with missing front teeth. He looked impossibly young. Impossibly alive.

I picked up the frame. "I miss you."

The room answered with silence. My eyes stung. I remembered the night before his final business trip. He had hugged me tightly outside this very room.

"You'll always be safe, Violet." His voice had carried such certainty. "I promise."

I held onto those words now as though they were something solid. A promise couldn't die. Could it?

A knock echoed somewhere beyond the study door. I quickly returned the photograph to its place.

Curiosity pulled me toward the hallway. Voices drifted from Helena's office across the corridor. The door stood slightly open. I recognized the man's smooth voice immediately.

Victor.

"I've exhausted every option," Helena said.

"You promised you could fix this."

"I said I'd try." I watched him shrugged his shoulders.

"You said investors were interested."

"They were."

"What happened?" He asked, staring at her.

"They changed their minds."

Silence oped then the soft scrape of a chair.

"There is," Victor said calmly, "still one valuable asset left."

"What assest? I've sold the cars."

"Not that."

"The jewelry?"

"No."

"The vacation house?"

"No."

Confusion filled Helena's voice. "Then what are you talking about?"

For a moment, Victor said nothing. I edged a little closer, careful not to make a sound. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost gentle.

"The girl."

My breath caught. There was another long silence.

"You can't mean..." Helena whispered.

Victor smiled. "I do." He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. Toward the floor where my bedroom waited above us.

"Sell the girl."