Chapter 15

The boardroom still hummed with the faint static of police radios as we hurried toward the elevators. Relief lingered in my chest after Gideon’s arrest — yet the hospital call hung heavy: Elias was alive. I’d watched him tumble from the warehouse roof; everyone had assumed the fall fatal.

“Paramedics found him on a thick pile of discarded shipping‑crate foam,” Ms. Hale explained, reading the emergency‑services message on her tablet as we descended. “It broke most of his impact, though he has severe fractures and a concussion. He regained consciousness an hour ago and asked specifically for both you and Caelum.”

Diana and Rowan stayed behind at the tower to help investigators sort board‑room evidence; Ms. Hale arranged a plain‑clothed security detail to follow our unmarked car at a quiet distance. On the drive to the city hospital, Caelum rested his hand lightly over mine on the seat. He hesitated, eyes drifting to my lips like he almost leaned in — then pulled back, a quiet, regretful glance telling me he was still honouring our slow‑build promise.

“Nearly slipped just now,” he whispered, a faint, tired smile touching his mouth.

“Me too,” I admitted, my heart fluttering.

The hospital wing was quiet, late‑evening light soft behind frosted windows. We were led to a private, guarded room. Elias lay propped up in the hospital bed, one leg in a heavy cast, bandages wrapped around his forehead and forearm. His face was pale, but his gaze was sharp and alert.

“You’re surprised I lived,” he said, voice rough.

“I thought you’d fallen to your death,” I replied. “We all did.”

“Luck… or fate.” He shifted carefully, wincing. “I never wanted to be Gideon’s pawn entirely. I knew he planned to discard me once his scheme succeeded. That’s why I secretly slipped an extra backup memory‑stick into safety‑deposit box 417 — behind the photos and statement, where you might find it later.”

Caelum frowned. “We didn’t see any extra drive.”

“Because I hid it inside the box’s hidden compartment,” Elias said. “Only opens with a secondary twist of the brass key. It holds recordings proving Gideon began plotting against your father years before the highway crash — including a secret conversation revealing there was a separate, unreported witness who watched the whole roadside incident.”

My pulse quickened. “Who was that witness?”

Elias paused, his expression turning uneasy. “Your mother, Zara. She was driving home that rainy night and stopped near the treeline. She saw everything. Gideon learned she’d been there and threatened to ruin your family’s small business unless she stayed silent. She never told you because she feared retaliation against you.”

I froze, stunned. All those quiet, sad moments from my childhood — my mother’s occasional sleepless nights, the way she’d avoided news reports about the Vance family — suddenly made painful sense.

“Why didn’t she speak up later?” Caelum asked gently.

“Gideon kept sending quiet reminders over the years,” Elias answered. “He said if she ever talked, he’d make certain you, Zara, would face consequences she couldn’t protect you from. She carried that fear alone for a decade.”

Tears stung my eyes. I thought of my mother’s warm phone calls, her quiet concern when I’d married Caelum so suddenly — she’d been worried not just about my rushed choice, but about the old danger resurfacing.

Before we could ask more, Elias’s monitor beeped sharply; a nurse stepped in to say visiting time was ending for the night. As we headed toward the door, Elias called out weakly: “Be careful. Gideon had one more secret project running — something he never shared even with me. Look for the name ‘Lira’.”

We left the hospital deep in thought. On the ride back to the penthouse, I pulled out my phone and dialled my mother’s number. She answered after a few rings, her usual soft greeting sounding tight.

“Mama,” I said quietly. “I know you were on that highway the night Caelum’s father died.”

There was a long, shaky silence on the line. “Oh, Zara… I wondered how long it would take to come out.” Her voice trembled. “I saw the brakes fail. I saw who was involved. I was so afraid they’d hurt you if I told anyone.”

I reassured her we had Gideon in custody, then promised we would visit her the next morning. After ending the call, I sat back, processing everything. Caelum’s hand found mine again, holding it firmly, no hesitation this time — though still no kiss, keeping our slow‑earned‑closeness boundary.

Once back inside the penthouse, Ms. Hale was waiting with new research pulled up on her screen. “‘Lira’,” she said, tapping a file. “That’s not a person’s first name — it’s the codename for a confidential offshore investment fund Gideon controlled. It’s channelled large sums of money toward an unknown local contact over the past three months.”

Caelum leaned forward, frowning. “Unknown? After Gideon’s arrest, why keep paying someone?”

“Because whoever it is doesn’t work only for him,” Ms. Hale said grimly. “Records show payments continue even now, from a different hidden account.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. Another hidden player remained active — someone linked to the old conspiracy, still operating even after Gideon was locked away and Elias hospitalized. And we had no idea who they were, or what they planned to do next.