FAZER LOGINELENA POVMarco Reyes called two days after the anonymous text arrived, his voice tighter than I remembered from our last conversation outside the fashion warehouse. "We need to talk," he said. "Somewhere private. Not your office, not the estate."We met at a small diner near the edge of the city, the kind of place with sticky vinyl booths and coffee that had clearly been sitting on the burner too long, chosen, I assumed, precisely because nobody from either of our worlds would think to look for us there."You look tired," he said, sliding into the booth across from me."It's been a difficult few months.""I imagine so." He wrapped both hands around his coffee cup without drinking from it, studying me with the same careful attention he'd shown since high school, back when he used to know exactly when I hadn't finished an assignment. "I heard about your husband. I'm sorry, genuinely, whatever complicated feelings I have about the family he belonged to."Something in his tone made me
ELENA POVTwo months into Damien's absence, Carlo requested a meeting with me directly, a formal letter delivered by courier instead of the casual visits he usually paid the estate, and something about the careful, deliberate wording made my skin crawl in a way his earlier veiled threats never quite managed.I brought two of Damien's most trusted men with me to the restaurant he'd chosen downtown, a quiet, expensive place with private booths and staff who clearly understood the value of discretion. Carlo was already seated when I arrived, a glass of wine untouched in front of him, his expression pleasant in a way that had learned, over decades, to hide exactly how dangerous the man underneath it truly was."Elena. Thank you for coming." He gestured toward the seat across from him, and I sat, keeping my hands folded carefully in my lap where he couldn't see them shake. "I hope the last few months haven't been too difficult for you, given everything.""You mean given that your ambush
ELENA POVThe results came back on a gray Tuesday morning, delivered quietly through a private lab Priya had recommended, one that specialized in discretion for clients who couldn't afford their business splashed across any public record. I read the report twice before I fully believed it, though it confirmed exactly what Marcus had already told me weeks earlier.The baby was his. Ninety-nine point nine percent probability, printed in careful, clinical language that somehow made the whole situation feel both more real and more absurd at the same time.I called a family meeting for the following week, one of the strange, formal gatherings the Rossi family still insisted on holding even with their most powerful member supposedly dead, everyone gathering in the same dining room where Emily had first announced her pregnancy months earlier. I'd insisted the Morettis attend as well, citing unfinished business that needed resolving before the family could properly move forward.Emily arriv
ELENA POVDamien's grandmother found me in the library two nights after Marcus's confession, the same room where I still spent most of my evenings, though the chair across from mine had stayed empty for weeks now, a fact I tried not to dwell on every time I sat down."You've been quiet lately," she said, settling into a seat near the fire without waiting for an invitation. "Quieter than grief usually allows for.""I'm handling it the best way I know how.""Are you." She studied me for a long moment, something calculating behind her sharp eyes, though it no longer carried the coldness it once had. "I've buried a husband, Elena. I know exactly what real grief looks like on a person's face, and I know what it looks like when someone is simply very good at performing what everyone expects to see."My stomach tightened, and I chose my words carefully, unsure how much she'd already guessed. "What are you trying to say?""I'm saying I don't believe my grandson is as dead as everyone in th
ELENA POVThe board approved my appointment faster than I expected, though I suspected fear drove that speed more than confidence in my abilities. By then, word of the sabotage had leaked through the company, then careful whispers in hallways that stopped whenever I walked past, and I understood that most of the staff were simply relieved someone had finally taken action, regardless of who that someone happened to be.My stepmother didn't come to the office again after my father quietly informed her of the board's decision. I heard through secondhand accounts that she'd retreated to the house they still shared, though for how much longer that arrangement would last, none of us seemed to know yet.I was three weeks into the job, buried in contracts I was slowly rebuilding one relationship at a time, when Marcus appeared in my office doorway without an appointment, without so much as a knock, dismissing my assistant with a look sharp enough that she retreated without waiting for my perm
ELENA POVI spent the week after Marcus's visit doing something I probably should have done months earlier. I called an old classmate from my business courses, a woman named Priya who now worked in forensic accounting, and asked her, carefully, without explaining too much, whether she might look at some records for me as a favor."What kind of records?" she asked."My father's company. I think someone's been moving money where it shouldn't go."She agreed without asking too many questions, which I appreciated more than she probably realized, and three days later she called back with a voice that told me, before she even said a word, that whatever she'd found was worse than I'd expected."Elena, this isn't recent," she said. "Whoever's been doing this has been at it for years. Small transfers at first, easy to miss, routed through shell accounts that don't connect to anything obvious unless you know exactly what you're looking for. It gets bolder around the same time some of your fath







