INICIAR SESIÓNI didn't sleep at all after Eleanor's message. Noah and I sat together on the terrace until the sky started lightening, both of us too wired for rest, cycling through every possible version of what "preliminary numbers" and "I think this is really it" could mean."She said preliminary," I kept repeating, like saying it enough times might change its shape into something more certain. "Not final. Not confirmed. Preliminary.""I know," Noah said gently, his hand steady over mine on the cold terrace railing. "But she also said 'this is really it.' Eleanor doesn't use language like that carelessly. Whatever she saw in those numbers, it was enough to break her usual restraint."We left for the estate before seven, the early light gold and thin across the highway, neither of us speaking much during the drive, both of us holding our own private versions of hope and dread too fragile to risk voicing aloud. By the time we arrived, Eleanor was already waiting on the front steps, still in her rob
The days after Daniel Voss's threat fizzled into nothing settled into something quieter than I'd expected— not peace exactly, but a wary, watchful calm, like a storm that had passed close enough to rattle the windows without actually breaking them.Eleanor called every few days with updates that amounted, mostly, to patience. The second test was underway, moving as quickly as the lab could manage without compromising accuracy. Daniel Voss had gone silent entirely, whether cowed by the foundation's swift legal response or simply biding his time for a better opportunity. Noah's people kept a quiet watch on his movements regardless, unwilling to assume the danger had fully passed just because it had gone quiet."I keep waiting for the next thing," I admitted to Diana one afternoon, the two of us finally, blessedly, just enjoying a normal lunch instead of hunched over production schedules or crisis texts. "It feels strange, having an actual quiet moment. Like I don't know what to do with
I stared at the message, my whole body going cold, Noah reading over my shoulder with an expression that had hardened into something I hadn't seen from him before."Everyone finds out together," I repeated slowly. "What does that even mean? Together how?"Noah was already moving, phone in hand, calling Marcus before I'd finished the sentence. "I need eyes on every major outlet, every gossip site, anything connected to the Voss name or Lancaster Corp. Now."I sat frozen on the studio couch, my heart hammering, scrolling frantically through my own feeds with shaking hands, half expecting to see something already live— a headline, a leaked document, some irreversible detonation I couldn't take back. Nothing yet. Just Diana's texts about production timelines, ordinary and blissfully unaware."Nothing's up yet," I said, my voice unsteady. "Maybe it's a bluff. Maybe he's just trying to scare me into doing something reckless.""Maybe," Noah said, though his tone carried little conviction. "O
Eleanor called before nine the next morning, her voice tight in a way I hadn't heard from her before, not panicked, but sharpened, the sound of a woman recalibrating quickly around unwelcome news."Noah told me everything," she said, no preamble. "The message, the number, all of it. I want you to know I take this extremely seriously, Jasmine. I should have moved faster on the confirmation weeks ago. I let my own caution create an opening for someone else to exploit.""You couldn't have known someone would try to weaponize it," I said, though her guilt was audible even through the phone, and I found myself wanting to soften it despite everything."Perhaps not. But I've spent four years being careful, and careful has a cost too, apparently." A pause, papers rustling on her end. "I've moved up the timeline on the second test. My investigator is expediting the sample collection today. I want this resolved before whoever sent that message decides silence isn't working in their favor anymor
I stared at the message until the words blurred, some cold, unfamiliar dread settling low in my stomach."Who sends something like that," I said quietly, more to myself than to Noah. "Not the reporter… different number, different tone entirely. This isn't someone digging for a story. This sounds like someone who already knows something, and wants me to go start a fire they don't have to light themselves."Noah took the phone from my hand, studying the message with the same careful, assessing focus he gave everything that threatened to spiral out of his control. "This isn't information. It's provocation. Whoever sent this wants a reaction, not a conversation.""But what if it's true?" My voice came out smaller than I meant it to. "What if my mother actually does know something, and someone's just… using it as a weapon instead of telling me honestly?""That's possible." Noah's jaw had tightened, his thumb hovering over the number like he was deciding whether to call it, though something
I stared at the message a long moment, the plum dress on the rack forgotten, Noah reading the screen over my shoulder with the same immediate, focused alertness I'd come to recognize as his default response to anything unexpected."The Voss estate," I repeated slowly. "What could she possibly have on the Voss estate? Eleanor's about as public as a stone wall.""I don't like this," Noah said, already reaching for his own phone. "Patricia doesn't chase stories that aren't real. If she's saying she has something, she has something."I called the number back before I could talk myself out of it, my pulse loud in my ears as it rang twice before connecting."Ms. Reed." Patricia's voice carried its familiar brisk confidence, though there was something more careful in it this time. "Thank you for calling back so quickly.""You said this was about the Voss estate." I kept my voice even, though my hand had tightened around the phone. "I don't understand what that has to do with me.""That's act







