Chapter 50

 

​POV: Isabella

​The air in the Hamptons was salt-heavy and smelled of expensive perfume, sea spray, and the faint, metallic scent of a brewing storm. The Vane estate sat atop the bluffs like a sprawling, white-marble fortress, illuminated by a thousand fairy lights that twinkled with a false, festive cheer. From the air, it must have looked like a dream; from the tarmac of the private landing strip, it felt like a funeral.

​Liam stood at the foot of the aircraft stairs, his tuxedo perfect, his face a mask of cold, unyielding granite. He didn't look like the man who had stood in the rain outside the bunker. He didn't look like the man who had whispered about saving me. He looked like the CEO of a company that had finally regained control of a runaway asset.

​"Liam?" I asked, my voice trembling as I stepped off the plane. The wind whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.

​"Don't speak," he said. The words were flat, devoid of the warmth I had spent a lifetime memorizing. He didn't look at me. He looked at Agent Vance, who was standing beside him with a hand resting on his holster. "The asset is recovered. Take her to the East Wing for the briefing."

​"Asset?" Thorne shouted, stumbling down the stairs behind me. "She’s a human being, you bastard! You sold her out for a board seat!"

​"Mr. Thorne is to be escorted off the property immediately," Liam said, his voice cutting through Thorne’s protest like a blade. "His clearance is revoked. Use whatever force is necessary."

​Security guards swarmed Thorne, pinning his arms. I tried to reach for him, to scream his name, but Agent Vance stepped into my path, a solid wall of government-sanctioned muscle.

​"Liam, look at me!" I screamed, my voice cracking against the roar of the wind.

​He didn't. He turned his back on me and began the long walk toward the house, his stride confident and terrifyingly familiar.

​I was led through the gardens, past the glittering infinity pools and the rows of parked Ferraris that gleamed like gemstones under the floodlights. The gala was already in full swing. I could hear the distant clink of crystal glasses and the refined, airy sound of a string quartet playing something by Mozart. The guests were the elite of the world—the politicians, the tech moguls, and the regulators who had spent the last week debating whether I was a person or a piece of property.

​I was taken to a small, private library off the main ballroom. The walls were lined with leather-bound books that no one ever read, and the air smelled of beeswax and old money. Eleanor was there. She was wearing a gown of midnight blue that shimmered as she moved, looking every bit the queen of the empire she had just reclaimed.

​"You look tired, Isabella," she said, her voice a soothing poison. "Sit. Drink something. You have a long night ahead of you."

​"Where is the FTC hearing?" I asked, refusing to sit. My legs were shaking, but I forced them to hold my weight.

​"The hearing has been postponed indefinitely," Eleanor said, smoothing the silk of her dress. "The Sterling Trust has reached a comprehensive settlement with the FTC. We’ve agreed to a 'full transparency' disclosure in exchange for a dismissal of the fraud charges. It’s a win for everyone, darling. Especially for our shareholders."

​"Transparency?" I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. "You mean you're going to show them me. You’re going to put me under a microscope in front of the world."

​"We're going to show them the breakthrough," she corrected, her eyes gleaming. "And you're going to help us. You're going to testify tonight, but not under oath. You're going to testify to the board and the lead regulators. You're going to confirm that the Medusa core is 'stable, integrated, and safe.'"

​"I deleted it," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "There is nothing left to show."

​Eleanor smiled. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen—a slow, predatory baring of teeth. "We know you didn't, darling. Liam found the drive. He’s already handed it over to our technical team."

​I felt the room spin. My hand flew to my left wrist, my fingers searching for the cool metal of the watch. It was gone. My skin was bare. I hadn't even felt them take it. When had it happened? In the car? On the plane?

​"Liam found it?"

​"He’s a very loyal CEO," Eleanor said, walking toward me. She reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. Her touch felt like ice. "He realized that his future—and yours—depended on the company’s success. He’s decided to play for the winning team. He realized that a wife is replaceable, but a legacy is forever."

​I sank into the chair, the strength finally leaving my knees. My heart thudded a slow, heavy rhythm against my ribs. I was defeated. I had no leverage. No truth. No partner. The one person I had trusted had been the one to deliver the killing blow.

​"And now," Eleanor said, standing tall as the doors to the ballroom were thrown open. "It’s time for your debut. The regulators are waiting. Arthur is waiting to introduce the new Chairwoman. And her miraculous daughter."

​Liam was standing in the doorway. He held out his arm, his expression unreadable.

​"Ready?" he asked.

​I looked at him, searching for a sign. I wanted to see a flicker of the man I loved, a hint of a plan, a spark of the fire that had burned in the bunker. But his eyes were empty, reflecting nothing but the bright lights of the ballroom.

​I took his arm. I didn't have a choice. I was a puppet being led to the stage.

​We walked into the ballroom. The music stopped instantly. A thousand eyes turned toward us, a sea of faces that looked more like a jury than a party. The silence was absolute, broken only by the rustle of silk and the soft click of my heels.

​Arthur Vane was standing on a small, elevated stage at the far end of the room. He looked triumphant, his chest puffed out, a glass of champagne in his hand.

​"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice booming through the speakers and vibrating in the floor. "I give you the future of Vane-Sterling. The heiress who redefined the boundaries of humanity. My sister, Isabella Vane."

​The applause was deafening. It was a roar of approval that felt like it was crushing the air out of my lungs. I felt like a prize pony being led around a ring, a curiosity to be poked and prodded.

​I was led to a sleek, glass podium. A microphone was adjusted in front of me. The light was blinding.

​"Tell them, Isabella," Arthur whispered, leaning close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Tell them you're stable. Tell them the miracle is real."

​I looked out at the crowd. I saw the lead regulator from the FTC in the front row. I saw the board members who had voted to call me equipment. I saw the people who had built me and the people who wanted to own me.

​Then I looked at Liam. He was standing just off-stage, his hands clasped behind his back, watching me with that same, frozen expression.

​I leaned into the microphone. My voice felt like it belonged to someone else—someone stronger.

​"My name is Isabella Vane," I said.

​I paused. I felt the phantom weight of the watch on my wrist. I thought of the "identity truth" and the man who had supposedly betrayed me.

​"And for the last month, I have been part of an undercover investigation into the criminal practices of Vane Holdings and the Sterling Trust."

​The room went dead silent. The applause died as if someone had cut the power. Eleanor’s triumphant smile faltered, her face turning a sickly shade of grey.

​"I am here to confirm," I continued, my voice steady, cold, and echoing with the precision they so feared, "that the information I provided to the federal authorities is true. I am not a person to the people in this room. I am a product of illegal human experimentation and systemic securities fraud."

​"Isabella, stop this immediately," Arthur hissed, reaching for the microphone.

​"And as a product," I said, raising my voice to drown him out, looking directly at the lead regulator, "I am calling for an immediate, formal seizure of all Vane-Sterling assets. I have the evidence of the illegal marrow-interface protocols. And so does the man standing next to me."

​I pointed at Liam.

​Liam didn't flinch. He didn't look surprised. He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a small, black thumb drive.

​"The Chairwoman was right," Liam said, his voice projected through the room’s audio system. He had switched on his own lapel mic. "I did find the drive. But I didn't give it to her. I gave her a copy with a Trojan horse that is currently wiping the Sterling servers as we speak. The real, unredacted data is right here."

​The room erupted into absolute chaos. Eleanor screamed something incoherent. Arthur lunged for Liam, but was intercepted by Agent Vance, who had moved with lightning speed. Security swarmed the stage, but they weren't moving for us.

​The lead regulator stood up, his face grim. "Mr. Sterling, Ms. Vane, you are under federal protection. Everyone else... do not move. This facility is now a crime scene."

​The cliffhanger wasn't the arrests or the collapse of the company. It was the fact that as the feds swarmed the room, Liam reached out and took my hand, pulling me close to his chest.

​"I told you to wait," he whispered, his voice finally breaking with emotion.

​I looked at him, the tears I had been holding back finally spilling over. "You... you were the pilot? You bought the jet?"

​"I was the one who bought the jet six months ago for an emergency extraction," he said, his grip tightening. "I just needed them to think they had won so they would bring the regulators into the same room."

​I leaned against him, finally feeling safe for the first time in years. But as Arthur was being led away in handcuffs, his face contorted with a manic, jagged rage. He looked back at us and laughed—a sound that chilled me to the bone.

​"You think you won?" Arthur shouted, his voice cracking. "You think you can just walk away? Check the marrow-shunt, Isabella! You just triggered the final phase of the audit! If the server wipes, the host shuts down!"

​I felt it then. A sharp, burning pain in the center of my chest, like a hot wire being threaded through my ribs.

​"Liam," I whispered, my vision beginning to blur. My knees buckled, and the world began to tilt.

​"Isabella? Isabella!"

​The last thing I saw was the terror in Liam’s eyes as the ballroom lights began to fade into a dark, suffocating black.