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FORTY-NINE: The First Continental Box

Auteur: Rovelt Vell
last update Date de publication: 2026-08-05 05:26:45

Aria’s POV

We left the vault before dawn, the ledger and photographs secured in a case Dmitri carried like it might detonate if handled carelessly. None of us spoke much on the drive back to the estate.

It was Romanov who finally broke the silence, his eyes fixed on the road, his voice quieter than I’d heard it in days.

“Someone inside my father’s world has been protected for thirty years,” he said. “Which means whoever’s running Northbridge now didn’t build this from nothing. They inherite
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  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   SIXTY-THREE

    Aria’s POV “Two days,” Romanov repeated, his voice flat over the speaker’s static. “Before we knew Ashgrove mattered at all.” “Someone else already did,” Dmitri said. “Whoever it was pulled the founding family files specifically. Not a general search. They knew what they wanted.” “Can you tell who?” Romanov asked. “Not from here,” Dmitri said. “The access log traces to a public library terminal two counties over. No account, no card required. Whoever did it knew enough to stay untraceable.” I sat with that a while, the unease from earlier sharpening into something colder. “So we’re not the first people chasing this. We might not even be close to the first.” “No,” Romanov said. “Which means whatever’s waiting in Ashgrove, we’re not walking in ahead of anyone. We’re walking in late.” The town itself arrived the way Dmitri’s records had described it—quietly, without a welcome sign or any marker announcing where the county boundary ended and whatever remained of Ashgrove began. A

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   SIXTY-TWO

    Aria’s POV Nobody said the word Ashgrove again until breakfast, but it sat at the table with us anyway, the way certain names do once they’ve been spoken aloud for the first time. “We should leave within the day,” Romanov said, not looking up from the folder Dmitri had left beside his plate. “Every hour we wait is an hour someone else has to search it first.” “You said yesterday you wanted the estate locked down,” I said. “Now you want to leave it.” “I want both,” he said. “The estate stays secured under Dmitri’s second team. I want to be the one standing in Ashgrove when whatever’s there gets found, not reading about it after the fact.” Elena appeared in the doorway before I could answer, dressed and steady on her feet in a way that still looked like effort rather than ease. “You’re not leaving me here,” she said. “You can barely stand for an hour without wincing,” I said. “I can stand for the car ride,” Elena said. “That’s all I’m asking for right now. Ashgrove is where m

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   SIXTY-ONE

    Aria’s POV Morning came too fast after too little sleep, and I found Romanov already in the study when I came downstairs, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he’d never actually gone to bed. “You didn’t rest,” I said. “I rested enough,” he said, which wasn’t an answer at all. Dmitri arrived a few minutes later, a tablet under his arm and the brisk energy of someone who’d found something worth losing sleep over. “I ran everything Marta gave us against what we already had,” he said. “The name Voss checks out against three separate threads we’ve been tracking independently. Reyes’s financial trail, the shell structure funding your father’s retainer, and now this.” “Meaning it’s not a coincidence,” Romanov said. “Meaning whoever’s running this has been consistent for years,” Dmitri said. “Same name, same fear, same structure, reused across every layer we’ve uncovered. If Voss really is alive, or if someone’s simply wearing his authority like a mask, either way, he’s the thread

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   SIXTY: The Beginning of the Correction

    Aria’s POV Marta’s hands stayed folded in her lap, steady despite everything, as she began to speak. “The man who recruited me called himself Reyes,” she said. “I doubt that’s his real name. Everyone in this network seems to borrow names the way other people borrow coats—useful for the season, discarded the moment they stop fitting.” “What did he ask you to do?” Romanov asked. “At first, almost nothing,” Marta said. “Report on schedules. Who came and went. Small things that felt harmless enough to justify taking his money without feeling like I’d betrayed anyone. That’s how they do it. They never ask for the whole betrayal at once. They ask for pieces, small enough that you can tell yourself you haven’t really done anything wrong.” “And later?” I asked. “Later, the requests grew,” Marta said. “Which rooms you used most. Which staff members seemed loyal enough to trust with sensitive tasks. When security rotations changed. By the time I understood how much I’d already given them

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   FIFTY-NINE: The Family That Vanished

    Aria’s POV The room went utterly silent. “Whose account?” Romanov asked, his voice gone flat in the way that meant he was holding something back by force. “I can’t get a name yet,” Dmitri said. “The receiving end is routed through a payroll intermediary, one of the third-party services we use for contract staff. I’ll need another hour to unmask it properly, maybe less if I push the trace harder than I should.” “Push it,” Romanov said. “I don’t care what corners you cut tonight.” Dmitri didn’t answer, already back at the keyboard, his fingers moving fast despite the exhaustion visibly dragging at every line of his face. I sat with the weight of it, the same cold dread from earlier settling deeper now that it had a shape—someone under this roof, someone paid twice in the same week the operation had nearly cost us Elena’s life, someone we’d walked past in a hallway or nodded to over breakfast without ever suspecting. “It could be staff we haven’t even considered yet,” I said. “So

  • THE BILLIONAIRE'S STAND-IN BRIDE   FIFTY-EIGHT: My Mother's Secret

    Aria’s POV The relief didn’t last past the front gate. Romanov was already on the phone before the car fully stopped, his voice sharp with the same controlled urgency he’d carried into the warehouse. “I want everyone who knew we moved the timeline early brought into the study,” he said. “Now. No exceptions.” Elena stirred beside me, wincing as she straightened, some of the exhaustion burning off at the tone in his voice. “You’re doing this tonight.” “I’m doing this the moment we’re inside,” Romanov said. “Whoever warned them isn’t getting a full night’s sleep to prepare an excuse.” We moved into the house together, Dmitri already pulling up the access logs on his tablet before we’d even reached the study, cross-referencing who had known about the shifted timeline and when. “Five people,” Dmitri said, laying it out on the desk the moment we were all inside. “Myself. Romanov. Aria. The two guards who helped coordinate the extraction team.” “The guards didn’t know until an hour

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