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CHAPTER THREE: THE INHERITANCE THEY STOLE
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2026-11-03 19:24:37*Freya's POV*
I didn't sleep. At dawn I called Mr. Hargrove and read him the address from my mother's note. He had worked for her for twelve years and had never heard of a vault. He agreed to meet me there anyway. He was waiting on the pavement when I stepped out of the car. He looked up at the building, then at me. "Miss Thorn, your mother never mentioned a vault to me. Not once." "She didn't mention it to me either," I said, and I held up the brass key. "But she left this for me, and she wrote this address herself." A manager checked my name and the key, then led us down a narrow hallway to a small room. When he opened the box, he left us alone. My hands were trembling. I made them stop, then lifted the lid. Mr. Hargrove began taking out the papers one by one. His expression changed with each page. "A second identity record. Shares in several companies. Deeds to properties I've never seen. And an encrypted drive." He looked up. "Your mother was moving money into your name for years." "How much is it worth?" He flipped faster, and his eyes widened. "More than the entire Thorn estate your uncle has been managing. All of it is yours. Which means the family has been living off your money the whole time." I sat down on the chair behind me. I thought about every dinner where Garrick had told me to be grateful for what they gave me. I almost laughed. I had been the one giving it all along. "Then I want all of it back," I said. "Done properly." "It won't be simple." He hesitated. "Some accounts were mismanaged. Several properties were pledged as collateral without your knowledge. Someone has been using your inheritance to secure debts." "Then start a full audit today. Cancel every power of attorney I didn't sign myself. Move my liquid assets into accounts only I can reach." I met his eyes. "And don't waste time trying to save every company. The only thing that matters now is surviving what's coming." "Surviving what, Miss Thorn?" I couldn't answer him. He didn't push. He simply picked up his pen and kept writing. My phone buzzed. Mira's name lit up the screen. I stepped into the corner and answered. "Freya, I heard the rumors that you rejected Ronan. Are you safe? Do you want me to come over right now?" She spoke so fast she barely paused for breath. For a moment I almost told her everything. She was one of the few people who had ever been kind to me. Then I remembered how quickly kindness could turn once food and water ran short. I swallowed the words. "I'm safe. But I found out my family has been hiding money problems, and I need a secure property outside pack territory." "Okay. I'll start looking today. You don't have to explain anything to me. I trust you." Her voice was steady, and my throat tightened, because she meant it. A message from Talia arrived right after I hung up. *Ronan's people are asking questions about your money. I can find out who's behind the missing funds. In return I want access to your new contacts and your business records.* My thumb hovered over the screen. I typed slowly. *I won't give you access. I'll pay you for specific information.* Her reply came almost at once, a laughing face. Then: *You really have changed.* *You have no idea,* I wrote, and I put the phone away. We packed everything into my bag. Mr. Hargrove went ahead to bring the car around, and I followed him down the stairs toward the side exit. I had almost reached the door when two men stepped in front of me. "Give us the bag," one said, "and nobody gets hurt." "Mr. Hargrove!" I shouted. I heard him running off to find help. I turned and tried to shove past them, but one man seized my wrist and slammed me against the wall. My head struck the concrete, and white light flashed behind my eyes. "Where's the key?" he snarled. He tore at my fist while the other man yanked at the bag. I kicked, clawed, and twisted. My fingers were slipping. I could feel the key digging into my palm, and I refused to open my hand. Then a third man appeared from the corridor. He caught the attacker's arm and twisted it so hard the man dropped to his knees. He turned on the second one, and within seconds both were stumbling toward the exit, shoved out one after the other. He stood at the door for a moment, scanning the corridor in both directions. Then he walked back to me. "Can you stand?" It wasn't gentle, but it was direct, and I respected that. "Yes." I pushed myself off the wall. My legs held. "Were you followed? Did you notice their vehicle?" "I don't think so. A gray van, parked by the side gate. Dent on the back door." He studied me for a long moment. "You noticed that while they were attacking you?" "I noticed it when I walked in. I always check who's parked near the exits now." He nodded slowly. "My name is Kael Mercer. I used to lead rescue teams. Now I do security for people preparing to leave dangerous territories. Did you know they were coming?" "No." "Then why did you keep your hand closed the whole time?" "Because I don't hand strangers what they want to steal." For the first time since I had woken on my bedroom floor, the corner of my mouth lifted. Kael pulled a card from his pocket and held it out. I took it just as Mr. Hargrove came running back with two guards. "That wasn't a robbery," Kael said quietly, his gaze dropping to my collar. "They didn't care about your jewelry or your money. They wanted something specific." He paused. "Where did you get that mark?" I pulled my collar higher and said, "Why do you want to know?" "Because I saw the same mark on a woman who died during a containment mission. Three days later, her entire settlement went feral." He walked out before I could ask another question. I stood there with his card in my hand, and the cold realization settled in my chest. The first outbreak in my last life had started in a settlement exactly like the one he had described.
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