Chapter sixteen.

CHLOE’S POV

"Your father wasn't the only person I saw in that study that night."

My mother's words echoed through the door.

I stood frozen, phone pressed against my ear.

"Chloe?" Damian's voice came through. "Do not open that door."

I swallowed.

"Mother, what are you talking about?"

"I need you to let me in. There's no time."

"Then tell me who else was in the study."

Silence.

I heard her breathing on the other side.

"Please, Chloe. I can't explain everything through a door."

I glanced toward the window. My bedroom was on the first floor, and the garden below was dark.

"Damian, she's refusing to answer."

"Keep her talking. Security is on the way."

I stepped closer to the door.

"Was it Victor Hale?"

"No."

"Jonathan Pierce?"

Another silence.

"Mother!"

"Someone you know," she whispered.

My stomach tightened.

"Who?"

Before she could answer, I heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Then a man's voice interrupted.

"Mrs. Summers, what are you doing here?"

It was Mr. Eric, the family butler.

My mother didn't answer.

"Miss Chloe has been instructed not to receive visitors tonight," he continued.

"Eric, please. I need to speak to my daughter."

"Then you should arrange a proper appointment."

I heard a sudden movement.

A sharp gasp followed.

"Don't touch me!" my mother shouted.

I rushed toward the door.

"Mother!"

"Chloe, stay inside!" Damian commanded through the phone.

Then came a loud crash.

I heard someone running.

By the time security arrived, the hallway was empty.

My mother was gone.

---

THE SUMMERS ESTATE — MOMENTS LATER

I opened my bedroom door only after two security officers confirmed the hallway was clear.

Mr. Eric stood near the staircase, looking shaken.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"Your mother left, miss."

"Left? She was just here!"

"Someone called her. She received the call, looked frightened and hurried downstairs."

"Who called her?"

"I couldn't see the screen."

I stared at him.

"Did you see anyone else?"

He hesitated.

"Miss, I saw a man near the back entrance."

"What man?"

"I couldn't identify him. He wore a dark jacket and a cap."

I looked toward the back staircase.

"Did he leave with my mother?"

"I don't know."

My phone vibrated.

Damian.

"Chloe, are you safe?"

"Yes. My mother disappeared before security could stop her."

"Did she say anything else?"

"She said someone else was in your father's study that night. Someone I know."

He went quiet.

"Did she identify the person?"

"No."

"Listen to me. Don't investigate this alone. I'm coming to get you."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. But someone has just attempted to remove a witness from the conversation. I won't take unnecessary chances with your safety."

I closed my eyes briefly.

"All right."

---

THE ROURKE MANSION

When I arrived, Damian was waiting in the study with Ethan.

His injured hand had been bandaged, but he barely seemed to notice it.

He stood as soon as I entered.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

His gaze searched my face before he nodded.

"Good."

Ethan placed a tablet on the desk.

"We traced the phone number that contacted Miss Summers. It was registered under a false identity, but the last signal came from an area near the Summers Estate."

"Can you identify the caller?" I asked.

"Not yet."

Damian turned to him.

"What about the person who used my access code?"

Ethan opened another file.

"The code was used at 9:42 p.m. The individual entered through the east entrance and went directly toward your father's old study."

"Did the cameras capture a face?"

"Unfortunately, the camera covering that corridor was disabled."

I leaned closer to the screen.

"Was anything taken?"

"That's what we're trying to establish."

Damian looked at him sharply.

"How?"

"An inventory of the study's contents was completed after your father's death. We compared it with the current inventory. One item is missing."

"What item?"

"A small leather document case."

Damian's expression changed.

"That case belonged to my father."

"What was inside it?" I asked.

"Private correspondence, financial records and some personal documents. I never found it after his death."

Ethan nodded.

"According to the old inventory, it was still in the study the morning after the murder. But it disappeared sometime later."

I remembered the woman's phone call.

Your mother took something from Edward's study.

"Could the document case be what my mother took?"

Damian looked at me.

"Possibly."

"Then why would someone enter the study now to retrieve it?"

"Because they believe it contains something they don't want us to discover."

I folded my arms.

"Or because they know we are close to finding it."

Ethan received a notification.

He checked it, and his expression darkened.

"Sir, there's something else."

"Go on."

"The storage facility was accessed again this afternoon."

"By James Thornton?" I asked.

Ethan shook his head.

"No. The payment was made through an account belonging to Summers Holdings."

My eyes widened.

"My father's company?"

"Yes, Miss Summers."

Damian looked at the screen.

"Get me the name of whoever accessed the unit."

"I'm working on it."

---

THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

An hour later, Victoria Hale joined us through a secure video call.

I explained everything my mother had said, including her sudden disappearance.

Victoria listened without interrupting.

When I finished, she adjusted her glasses.

"There is something you both need to consider. If Eleanor was at the mansion that night, she may have been a witness. But she may also have been involved in protecting someone."

"She said Edward was alive when she left," I replied.

"That could be true. It doesn't establish what happened afterward."

Damian leaned forward.

"Can we find the original visitor records from that night?"

"I've requested the archived documents. Some of them were removed from the police file, but I may be able to recover copies through the former investigation team."

"Do that."

Victoria nodded.

Then she looked at me.

"Chloe, I also reviewed something unrelated to the Rourke investigation. Your intellectual property records."

I straightened.

"What about them?"

"Someone recently submitted a registration inquiry involving a painting called The Last Dawn."

My stomach tightened.

"Who submitted it?"

"An individual claiming to represent Pearl Summers."

I felt my fingers curl.

Of course.

Pearl had not forgotten the painting.

In my first life, she had stolen it, presented it as her own work and used it to build the false identity of A-Star.

I had allowed her to take everything because I believed family meant forgiveness.

Not this time.

"Did she successfully register it?" I asked.

"No. Your earlier documentation helped establish that you created it. However, I recommend formally registering the painting and your other original works as soon as possible."

"Do it," I said.

Victoria nodded.

"I'll prepare the necessary documents."

After the call ended, Damian looked at me.

"Pearl?"

"Yes."

"Is she still trying to claim your work?"

"She's trying to steal what she believes she can get away with."

His expression hardened.

"Do you want me to handle it?"

"No."

I met his eyes.

"This is mine. I want to expose her using evidence, not influence. I want everyone to know exactly what she did."

Damian studied me before nodding.

"Then we'll make sure the evidence is protected."

I appreciated that he didn't argue.

For once, someone was offering help without trying to take control.

---

PEARL’S LITTLE GAME

The following morning, I received an invitation to a private art preview.

The event was being organised by a gallery that had recently begun promoting emerging artists.

Pearl's name appeared on the invitation.

I almost laughed.

She was moving faster than I expected.

I called Victoria.

"Have you completed the copyright documentation?"

"The first set is ready. I'm still waiting for confirmation on two additional pieces."

"Good. I need you to send me the records for The Last Dawn and the original sketches."

"Where are you going?"

"To see my sister."

Victoria sighed.

"Chloe, please tell me you're not planning to confront her without preparation."

"I'm not. I'm planning to let her talk."

There was a pause.

"That sounds more dangerous."

"Only if she has something to hide."

I ended the call and studied the invitation again.

Pearl had always loved attention. She enjoyed standing before people and pretending that everything she touched was extraordinary.

In my first life, I had watched her receive applause for work that belonged to me.

This time, I intended to be in the room when the truth came out.

---

THE ART PREVIEW

The gallery was filled with wealthy guests, collectors and photographers.

Pearl stood near the centre of the room in a cream-coloured dress, smiling as people admired a painting displayed behind her.

I recognised it immediately.

It was one of my older pieces.

Not The Last Dawn, but another painting I had created before my rebirth.

My jaw tightened.

Pearl turned and saw me.

For a second, her smile faltered.

Then she recovered.

"Chloe! You came."

"I received an invitation."

She glanced at my dress.

"Of course. I'm surprised you found the time."

"I wouldn't miss your big moment."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Before she could respond, a woman approached us.

"Pearl, darling, who is this?"

"My sister, Chloe."

The woman smiled politely.

"How lovely. Pearl has told us so much about her artistic journey."

I returned the smile.

"Has she?"

"Yes. She's incredibly talented."

I looked at the painting.

"That's interesting. I don't remember Pearl painting this one."

Pearl's smile stiffened.

"Chloe, don't start."

"I'm simply admiring the artwork."

The woman looked between us.

"Is there a problem?"

"No problem at all," I replied. "I was just wondering whether the artist could explain the inspiration behind the painting."

Pearl laughed nervously.

"It's a personal story."

"Of course. Then perhaps you can explain the original sketch."

I took my phone from my handbag and opened a photograph of my original drawing.

Pearl's face changed.

"Where did you get that?"

I turned the screen toward the woman.

"This is the original sketch. I created it several years ago. The painting behind us is based on it."

The woman's smile disappeared.

Pearl stepped closer.

"Chloe, we need to talk privately."

"Why? Are you uncomfortable discussing your artistic process?"

Her voice dropped.

"Stop embarrassing me."

I looked at her calmly.

"I'm not embarrassing you, Pearl. I'm asking a question."

Several guests had begun paying attention.

The woman examined my phone.

"Miss Summers, do you have proof that you created the original work?"

"Yes. I have dated sketches, original files, photographs of the painting in my studio and documentation from my lawyer."

Pearl's eyes flashed.

"She's lying! She's always been jealous of me."

I almost smiled.

There it was.

The same accusation she had used in my first life.

I turned toward the guests.

"I don't want to disrupt your event. My lawyer will contact the gallery with the relevant documents. Until then, I would advise against selling or publicly attributing this painting to anyone."

Pearl grabbed my arm.

"You're destroying everything!"

I gently removed her hand.

"No, Pearl. I'm simply taking back what belongs to me."

Then I walked away.

I didn't need to shout.

I didn't need to fight.

The truth had finally entered the room.

---

THE CALL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING

Outside the gallery, my phone rang.

James.

I considered ignoring it, but something told me to answer.

"What do you want?"

His voice was unusually calm.

"We need to talk."

"We have nothing to discuss."

"Your mother is missing, isn't she?"

My body went still.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know where she went."

I looked around the street.

"Where is she?"

"Meet me."

"Give me a reason to trust you."

He laughed softly.

"You don't have to trust me. But if you want to see your mother again, you'll come alone."

My grip tightened around the phone.

"Where?"

"Old Ashford Club. Tonight. Eight o'clock."

"James, if this is another one of your games—"

"There's one more thing you should know, Chloe."

I waited.

"Damian isn't telling you everything about his father's death."

My heart sank.

"What does that mean?"

"You'll find out when you get here."

The call ended.

I immediately contacted Damian.

He answered on the first ring.

"Chloe?"

"James just called."

"What did he say?"

"He claims he knows where my mother is. He wants me to meet him at Ashford Club tonight."

"Absolutely not."

"He also said you're hiding something about your father's death."

There was a pause.

Then Damian spoke.

"He's trying to manipulate you."

"Maybe. But what if he knows where my mother is?"

"We'll find out without putting you in danger."

I looked toward the gallery entrance, where Pearl was still standing among the guests.

"Damian, I think James and Pearl are working together. He accessed the storage unit, and his bracelet was connected to the night Caroline disappeared. Pearl is trying to claim my paintings again."

"I agree that their actions are suspicious."

"Then we need to find out what they're hiding."

"We will."

His voice softened.

"Chloe, I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't meet James alone."

I closed my eyes.

"I promise."

---

DAMIAN’S POV

After ending the call, I remained in my office, staring at the black box on my desk.

Chloe believed James was using my father's murder to manipulate her.

She wasn't entirely wrong.

But there was something she still didn't know.

Something I had promised myself I would never reveal until I had proof.

Ethan entered without knocking.

"Sir, we have a problem."

I looked up.

"What happened?"

"We found Caroline Reed."

I stood immediately.

"Where?"

"At a private medical facility outside the city. She was admitted under a false identity."

"Is she alive?"

"Yes. But she's unconscious."

My jaw tightened.

"Who took her there?"

"We're checking the security footage. However, there's something else."

Ethan placed a photograph on my desk.

It showed Caroline lying on a hospital bed.

Beside her was a small envelope.

My eyes narrowed.

"What's that?"

"It was addressed to you."

I opened it.

Inside was a handwritten note.

Damian, if you are reading this, then the person who killed your father has finally decided to finish what he started.

Beneath the message was a name.

CHLOE SUMMERS.

I stared at it.

Then I noticed the second line.

She was never supposed to survive the first attempt.

My blood ran cold.

Someone had known Chloe before I ever met her.

Someone had been watching her.

And someone believed she should have died long before our marriage arrangement was even proposed.

I looked at Ethan.

"Find out who delivered this envelope."

"Yes, sir."

"And increase Chloe's protection. I don't care what it takes."

Ethan nodded and left.

I looked at the note again.

For the first time in years, I wondered whether my father's murder and Chloe's past were connected by something much bigger than either of us understood.