تسجيل الدخولThe drive to the outskirts of the city was unusually quiet.
Amy sat in the back seat beside Zion, her fingers intertwined with his while her father's car moved steadily through the thinning traffic. The city gradually gave way to quieter roads lined with trees, modest houses and stretches of undeveloped land.
Nobody spoke for several minutes.
The drive to the outskirts of the city was unusually quiet.Amy sat in the back seat beside Zion, her fingers intertwined with his while her father's car moved steadily through the thinning traffic. The city gradually gave way to quieter roads lined with trees, modest houses and stretches of undeveloped land.Nobody spoke for several minutes.Amy stared through the window, trying to prepare herself for what was coming.Her grandmother was alive.The woman whose funeral she had attended as a child—the woman whose death had been explained to her so many times that she had never questioned it—was alive.Somewhere.Waiting.
The car moved through the quiet streets with its headlights cutting through the darkness, but Amy barely noticed the road.Her mind was still inside that house.Inside the hidden passage.Inside the conversation with Elena.Inside the photograph of Adrian Cole standing beside her grandfather decades ago.She stared through the window, watching streetlights slide across the glass.Beside her, Zion was unusually quiet.His hand rested over hers, his thumb moving slowly across her knuckles as though the simple gesture could keep her anchored.Amy finally looked at him."Yo
The sound of footsteps approaching the old Armstrong residence seemed louder than they should have been.Amy stood frozen in her grandfather's study, the handwritten letter still clutched between her fingers. Through the window, she could see three men moving toward the house with deliberate steps. They weren't rushing. They didn't need to.They knew exactly where they were going.Zion moved toward the door and lowered his voice. "We're leaving."Amy looked at him. "But the evidence—""We have the evidence."She looked down at the box on the desk.The documents, the flash drive and her grandfather's letter were all there.
I had walked into intimidating rooms before.Boardrooms filled with executives who thought they knew more than me.Meetings where my last name spoke before I did.But nothing prepared me for this.Zion Petrakis didn’t just sit behind his desk.He owned the space.The room was too quiet, too bright,
Nobody spoke when Zion Petrakis walked through the executive floor.Not because they weren’t allowed to.Because his presence demanded silence naturally.The sharp sound of his shoes echoed against the polished black floors as employees quickly moved out of his path.Some nodded respectfully.Others
Amy stared at the rejection email on her laptop and laughed bitterly.“Unfortunately, we’ve decided to move forward with another candidate.”Again.She slammed the laptop shut and dropped back onto her couch with frustration.The apartment around her was small compared to the Armstrong mansion, but
Amy Armstrong adjusted the sleeve of her blazer for the third time before stepping out of the car.The towering glass building before her reflected the early morning sun like a polished diamond.Diamond Towers.Her father’s empire.Soon to be hers.A lump formed in her throat.“Miss Armstrong?” the







