Chapter 95: Finch’s Whisper

The drive back to the estate didn't happen right away. Ivan had been stopped by a group of investors near the exit, and Dmitri had been pulled into a corner by a woman who looked like she held the keys to half the city's real estate. For the first time all night, their grip loosened just enough for me to breathe.

"I’m going to get a glass of water," I told Dmitri.

He looked at me, his eyes scanning the immediate area. "Stay at the bar. Don't move from there. I’ll be over in two minutes."

"I can walk ten feet by myself, Dmitri," I said. My voice was more tired than I meant it to be.

He sighed and nodded toward the long marble bar at the far end of the hall. "Go. Two minutes."

I walked away before he could change his mind. The crowd was a blur of expensive fabrics and forced laughter. When I reached the bar, I didn't ask for water. I just stood there, leaning my elbows against the cool surface, looking down at my hands. My palms were sweating.

"You look like you're planning an escape," a voice said beside me.

I didn't have to look up to know it was Sebastian Finch. He had appeared out of nowhere, standing just close enough that our shoulders almost touched. He wasn't looking at me; he was watching the bartender pour a drink.

"They're watching me," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

"They always are," Sebastian replied. He took a sip of his drink and leaned back. "It’s a heavy burden, being the center of their world. They don't know how to love something without owning it. There’s a difference, though I doubt they’ll ever learn it."

I looked at him then. He looked perfectly calm, as if we were just two friends catching up. "Why are you talking to me? Ivan said you’re dangerous."

Sebastian laughed softly. It was a dry, humorless sound. "I’m dangerous to them because I remember things they’d rather forget. Your father wasn't always the broken man you knew, Leo. He had a life before the Volkovs decided he was a problem."

"What kind of life?" I asked. My heart was thumping against my ribs.

I saw Dmitri finish his conversation across the room. He was already looking for me. I only had seconds.

Sebastian leaned in closer. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the coldness radiating off him. "Your father had a company once. It wasn't much, but it was his. Ascendant Arts. That was the name."

"Ascendant Arts," I repeated, trying to commit the words to memory. "I’ve never heard of it."

"Of course you haven't," Sebastian said. He kept his eyes on the twins as they began to move toward us. "The history books are written by the winners. But if you want the truth, you have to look at the ashes."

"What do you mean?"

Sebastian’s voice dropped an octave, turning sharp and precise. "Ask Arthur about the fire. Ask him what happened to the office on the night the contracts were supposed to be signed. If he gives you that look—the one where he pretends he can't remember—then you’ll know I’m telling the truth."

"Leo!" Dmitri’s voice barked through the noise of the crowd.

Sebastian straightened up and flashed a polite, empty smile as Dmitri reached us. Dmitri stepped between us immediately, his hand gripping the back of my neck.

"Finch," Dmitri said, his voice dripping with venom. "I told you to stay away from him."

"We were just discussing the catering," Sebastian said easily. "The shrimp is a bit rubbery, don't you think? But then again, I suppose you've never had much taste for the finer details."

Dmitri didn't answer him. He pulled me away, his fingers digging into my skin. He didn't say a word until we had reached Ivan, who was waiting by the doors with a look on his face that made the nearby guests shrink away.

"He was talking to him again," Dmitri said to Ivan.

Ivan’s eyes snapped to mine. He didn't look angry; he looked disappointed, which was much worse. "What did he say to you, Leo?"

"Nothing," I lied. My heart was racing so fast I thought they could surely hear it. "He was just making fun of the food. I couldn't get away fast enough."

Ivan stared at me for a long time. He was trying to read the lie in my eyes. I kept my face as blank as possible, the way I had learned to do when my father was in a bad mood.

"We’re going home," Ivan said. "Now."

The ride back was different this time. The silence wasn't just heavy; it was suffocating. Ivan sat on one side of me, staring out the window, while Dmitri sat on the other, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his knee. Neither of them touched me. It felt like I was being transported to a prison cell rather than a home.

When we finally pulled into the driveway of the estate, the house looked like a fortress. The lights were on in the foyer, and I could see Arthur standing by the door, waiting for us.

"Go inside," Ivan told me as the car door opened. "Go straight to your room. We’ll talk about this in the morning."

"I'm not a child, Ivan," I said, finally snapping.

Ivan turned his head slowly. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face. "Then stop acting like one. You let a man like Finch walk all over you because you’re too curious for your own good. Curiosity is what killed your father, Leo. Remember that."

I climbed out of the car and walked toward the house. Arthur opened the door for me, his face a mask of professional politeness.

"Welcome back, Master Leo," Arthur said. "I hope the evening was a success."

I stopped in the hallway and looked at him. The twins were still outside, arguing near the car. This was my only chance.

"Arthur," I said.

"Yes, Leo?"

I swallowed hard, the name Sebastian had given me feeling like a stone in my throat. "Do you know anything about a company called Ascendant Arts?"

Arthur didn't move. He didn't blink. But I saw the way his hand tightened on the door handle. The silence stretched out between us for five seconds, then ten.

"I’m afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur said. His voice was perfectly steady, but his eyes had gone cold.

"Sebastian told me to ask you," I pressed. "He told me to ask you about the fire."

Arthur stepped closer to me. He was usually the kindest person in the house, but in that moment, he looked just as dangerous as the twins.

"Mr. Finch is a man who enjoys causing pain," Arthur said quietly. "If I were you, Leo, I would put those names out of my head. Some fires are better left burned out. If you go poking around in the embers, you’re only going to get hurt."

"So there was a fire," I said.

"Goodnight, Leo," Arthur said, turning away.

I stood in the hallway, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading away. I had been in this house for weeks, and I realized then that I didn't know anything at all. I was surrounded by people who claimed to love me, but they were all standing on top of a graveyard.

I went to my room and locked the door. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall. Ascendant Arts. The fire.

The twins thought they had brought me home to be a part of their family. But as I sat there in the dark, I realized that Sebastian Finch hadn't just given me a name. He had given me a match. And for the first tim

e, I wanted to see what would happen if I lit it.