Chapter Five

CHAPTER 5

The mansion didn’t sleep. Instead, it sighed and groaned and shifted like something that was alive.

By the time dawn broke, the rain had lessened to a thin drizzle tapping rhythmically on the windows.

 I hadn’t slept much. Too many memories clung to the walls like ivy, too many thoughts were pacing behind my eyes.

I rose quietly, slipping from the bed, and wrapping the robe tighter around me.

I told myself I was just going to find water.

But I didn’t head straight for the kitchen.

My feet knew the halls. Devon used to tease me about it—how quickly I memorized the layout of his childhood home. But he never understood why. I always learned about places like battlegrounds. You memorize exits. Observe the shadows. Sense when walls listen.

I padded through the corridors, careful not to wake anyone, though I doubted I’d be the loudest thing in a house this size. The hallways were dim, while the sconces reflected soft, golden light. I passed the portrait gallery and then the hall of mirrors, where the walls seemed to close in around you in endless reflection.

That’s when I heard it. A low, sharp and confident voice.

It belonged to Alaric.

I paused mid step.

He was on the phone, his voice was slightly muffled through a door half-closed. I recognized the room: his private study, tucked between the old smoking lounge and the library. Devon never brought me in there. “Off-limits,” he’d said once, laughing. “My stepfather’s dragon den.”

I stepped lightly, pressing myself against the cool wall, inching closer to it.

“No, I don’t care what the Ministry says,” Alaric was saying. “They wouldn’t dare move against me unless they’re tired of breathing.”

There was a long pause. Then he let out a cold chuckle.

“I told you the estate transfers were to remain undocumented until the Cayman vault clears. I don’t want my name on a single file until the offshore series completes rotation. Keep the numbers off-grid.”

My breath hitched in my throat. I leaned in as my heart began to pound.

“We’re not talking a few million. This isn’t a boutique company or a toy trust. This is sovereign-level wealth. I didn’t spend twenty years building an empire just to let some bureaucrat sniff around it now.”

Sovereign-level wealth? My stomach twisted at the words.

I knew Alaric was rich. Everyone did. His name opened doors, closed banks, rearranged boardrooms. But this…this was something else. He wasn’t just old money. He was money! Power, not as an accessory but as a birthright.

How much was he hiding?!

And why pretend to be just another tycoon when you were clearly something much larger, much darker?

I pressed my ears closer.

“Devon?” he said suddenly, and my breath caught. “He knows enough. Just the surface. I made sure he didn’t inherit the vault-side documentation. He wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway. His version of ambition is women and gallery exhibits. No teeth.”

My fingernails bit into my palms.

He didn’t even respect Devon.

There was silence on the other end. Alaric laughed, it came out as a short and unamused sound.

“No. That girl he was seeing…Isla? She’s not the type, she's too emotional and too reactive. She's pretty though. Dangerous in that unrefined way I must say but not clever enough to be a threat.”

My jaw clenched so tightly I nearly cracked a tooth.

Not clever enough?!!

"Who the fuck does he…"

I backed away quickly, every nerve in my body humming. The insult wasn’t even the sharpest part. It was the realization of the knowledge blooming like wildfire in my chest.

I had come here thinking this was revenge.

That seducing Alaric would wound Devon’s pride and cause a stir in his perfect little world.

But that wasn’t the game at all.

This wasn’t about Devon anymore.

This was about Alaric.

He wasn’t just a man. He was a kingdom. And he thought I was too naive to see the throne he sat on.

But now I did.

And just like that, the pain of Devon’s betrayal dulled, and was replaced by something hotter. And sharper. A quiet and deliberate plan clicked into place. This time, I wouldn’t just hurt someone.

I would win.

I would play the long game.

He thought I was too emotional and too reactive. Let him, no, Let them both think that.

Let them watch as the woman they dismissed slowly, gently, undid everything they’d ever built.

I would wrap myself in silk and steel, and I’d do it with a smile on my face.

Because Devon hadn’t just lost me.

He’d led me to something far greater.

And as for the rich, ruthless and arrogant Alaric, he had just opened the door for me to walk into a world even Devon had never been invited into.

I took a long breath, smoothing the front of my robe. My pulse has slowed now, steady with purpose.

I wasn’t a guest anymore, I was a threat and neither of them knew it yet.