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ZARIA POV
The heavy, metallic scent of expensive perfume always made my head spin, but today, it felt suffocating.
I stood outside the grand double doors of the Ellison Corporation penthouse boardroom, clutching a leather-bound folder against my chest. Today was the day. My twenty-fifth birthday. The exact day my late father’s will dictated that the entire Ellison empire—the real estate holdings, the shipping lines, the billions in offshore accounts—would officially be handed over to me.
I should have been ecstatic. I was finally fulfilling my dad's legacy. But my chest felt tight, an inexplicable weight pressing down on my lungs.
Just nerves, I told myself, taking a deep, stabilizing breath. You’re just overwhelmed.
I smoothed down the fabric of my tailored white dress, the one Tristan had picked out for me. Tristan. My fiancé of three years, the man who had held my hand through the darkest days after my parents died. In just an hour, he would be sitting by my side as I signed the papers.
I reached for the sleek silver doorknob, but stopped when I heard voices muffled through the thick mahogany wood.
"The notary is already on his way up, Julian. Is everything set on your end?"
It was Aunt Elena’s voice. Cold, sharp, and business-like. My mother’s sister. The woman who had taken me in, but always looked at me as if I were a smudge on her pristine glass table.
"Everything is perfectly tracked, Elena. Don't worry," a smooth, familiar voice replied.
My heart skipped a beat. Tristan. But his tone wasn't the warm, gentle cadence he used whenever he spoke to me. It was dripping with a chilling arrogance that made my skin crawl.
"Once Zaria signs the transfer of administration over to me as her sole proxy, the board won't be able to question a single transaction," Tristan continued, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "The girl is completely clueless. She thinks we’re looking at wedding venues this weekend."
I froze. My fingers felt like ice against the silver doorknob. My mind scrambled, trying to process his words, desperately hoping I was just misinterpreting a joke. Clueless? Proxy? What is he talking about?
"Make sure she signs the specific indemnity waiver, too," Aunt Elena added, her tone utterly detached. "Once the funds are rerouted to our Swiss account, we can't have any loose ends. The girl has her father's stubborn streak. If she finds out we’ve been bleeding the secondary accounts dry, she’ll ruin everything."
"She won't find out," Tristan said, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Because she won't be around to file a lawsuit."
The hallway seemed to tilt. The bright LED lights overhead suddenly felt blinding, making my vision blur. My breathing turned shallow, jagged rags of air tearing through my throat. They weren't just stealing my inheritance. They were talking about getting rid of me.
"The brake line on her car is already taken care of," Tristan murmured, his voice casually dropping a bomb that shattered my entire world into a million jagged pieces. "A tragic accident on the winding coastal road on her way to the birthday dinner. The grief-stricken fiancé inherits the estate as the designated beneficiary in her draft will. It’s foolproof."
My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a sob. The man I loved. The aunt who raised me. They were planning my murder like it was a mere line item on a corporate budget. The betrayal hit me like a physical blow to the stomach, leaving me hollowed out and reeling.
Panic, pure and primal, took over. I needed to get out of there. I needed to run.
But as I stumbled backward, my heel caught on the edge of the plush hallway rug. The leather folder slipped from my grip, hitting the marble floor with a loud, echoey thud. Papers scattered everywhere.
Silence fell inside the boardroom.
"Did you hear that?" Aunt Elena’s voice sharpeneed.
Footsteps hurried toward the door.
I didn't bother picking up the papers. I turned and bolted toward the emergency exit stairwell, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I shoved the heavy door open, throwing myself down the concrete steps, the sound of my own frantic breathing echoing in the enclosed space.
"Zaria! Wait!"
Tristan's voice boomed from the top of the stairs, no longer smooth, but dark and menacing.
I didn't look back. I ran out into the underground parking lot, tears blinding my eyes. I couldn't take my car—he said the brakes were compromised. I ran toward the rear exit of the building, bursting out into the blinding afternoon sun, heading blindly toward the jagged cliffs of the private overlook path behind the corporate estate. It was a tourist spot, usually empty during weekdays. I just needed to reach a public space, to find someone, anyone, to help me.
The wind whipped my hair across my face as I reached the edge of the cliff path, the roaring ocean crashing violently against the sharp rocks hundreds of feet below.
"Zaria, stop running! You're making this so much harder than it needs to be!"
I spun around, panting, my back pressed against the rusted metal safety railing. Tristan stood a few feet away, his pristine suit completely out of place against the wild, rugged cliffside. The warmth in his eyes was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, calculating void.
"Why?" I screamed, the wind tearing the sound from my throat. "I loved you! We were supposed to build a life together!"
Tristan sighed, taking a slow, predatory step forward. "You were a means to an end, Zaria. Your father built an empire, but he left it to a naive little girl who doesn't know the first thing about power. Elena and I? We know how to run this world."
"You won't get away with this," I choked out, tears burning my cheeks. "The board... the police..."
"The police will find a tragic accident," he cut me off, snapping his fingers softly. He closed the distance between us in a flash, his grip locking onto my wrists like handcuffs. "You should have just stayed inside and signed the papers, sweetheart. It would have been much less painful."
I fought back, kicking and screaming, using every ounce of strength I had left to break his grip. I managed to sink my teeth into his hand.
Tristan cursed, flinching back, and in his rage, he shoved me hard against the old railing.
The rusted metal gave way with a deafening screech.
The world flipped upside down. The sky and the ocean blurred into a chaotic spin as gravity violently violently ripped me downward into the dark, roaring abyss.
I hit a jagged rock outcropping halfway down, a searing, blinding white pain exploding across my face and body before everything went completely black.
ZARIA POVSoren walked over to his desk, but he didn't sit down. Instead, he leaned against the edge, ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest as he tracked my every movement. The silence in the room stretched, heavy and suffocating, but I refused to look down this time."You have exactly three minutes before I call security to escort you out, Gia," he said, his voice flat, completely unimpressed. "Make it count."I reached into my pocket, pulling out the folded Ellison Corp agenda I had taken from the conference room, and placed it flat on his immaculate desk."Tristan Vance is liquidating the core assets of Ellison Corporation this Friday," I said, my natural voice echoing clearly in the quiet room. No stutter, no submissive pitch. "He's using a forged digital proxy from my late father to bypass the board. If he succeeds, he leaves a shell company, bleeds the minority shareholders dry, and vanishes with billions into offshore accounts."Soren glanced down at the paper, then back u
ZARIA POVThe cold air of the basement changing room felt like a slap in the face.I sat on a rusty metal bench, staring at the scuffed toes of my sneakers. Twenty-four hours. That was all the time Soren Ellsworth had given me before he unleashed his security team to tear my fake identity to shreds. If they dug too deep, they wouldn't just find a forged ID card; they would find a trail leading straight to a girl who was supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean. And if Tristan found out I was breathing, he wouldn't hesitate to finish the job.You can't leave, I told myself, gripping the edge of the bench until my knuckles turned white. If you walk away now, you lose everything forever. This is your only shot.I looked up at the tiny, grime-covered mirror on the locker door. The scarred, plain-looking girl stared back. Soren was smart—too smart. He hadn't built a multi-billion-dollar legal empire by letting things slide. He saw me as an anomaly, a variable he couldn't control in his pr
ZARIA POVThe quietness of the 40th floor at 2:00 AM was eerie, broken only by the low, mechanical slosh of my mop dipping into soapy water.For the past three weeks, this had been my routine. While the rest of the city slept, I scrubbed toilets, dusted mahogany shelves, and emptied trash cans filled with shredded corporate secrets. My back constantly ached, and my hands were raw from the cheap rubber gloves, but I couldn't afford to complain. I was closer to my goal than I had ever been.I pushed my heavy glasses up the bridge of my nose, adjusting the coarse fibers of my wig as I wheeled my utility cart toward the end of the long hallway. The massive frosted glass door at the end bore a sleek, silver inscription: Soren Ellsworth, Managing Partner.According to the night logs, his office was supposed to be empty by now. He had an elite charity gala to attend tonight.I swiped my restricted keycard, the lock clicking open with a soft beep. Stepping inside, the sheer scale of the offic
ZARIA POVThe smell of cheap disinfectant and damp mold was a brutal downgrade from the lavender-scented silk sheets I used to sleep on.I sat on the edge of a sagging mattress in a cramped, windowless boarding house room at the edge of the city. The ceiling fan hummed a rhythmic, irritating buzz overhead, doing absolutely nothing to clear the stifling heat. This room cost fifty dollars a week, paid in crumpled cash under a fake name, and it was officially my entire world.I reached out with trembling fingers, picked up a small, cracked plastic mirror from the wobbly nightstand, and forced myself to look.The reflection staring back at me wasn’t Zaria Ellison.The girl in the mirror had jagged, pink burn scars rippling across the left side of her jawline and neck—courtesy of the jagged rocks and the exploding engine of a boat that had crashed near the shore where my broken body had washed up. A group of reclusive, off-the-grid fishermen had pulled me from the water three months ago. T
ZARIA POVThe heavy, metallic scent of expensive perfume always made my head spin, but today, it felt suffocating.I stood outside the grand double doors of the Ellison Corporation penthouse boardroom, clutching a leather-bound folder against my chest. Today was the day. My twenty-fifth birthday. The exact day my late father’s will dictated that the entire Ellison empire—the real estate holdings, the shipping lines, the billions in offshore accounts—would officially be handed over to me.I should have been ecstatic. I was finally fulfilling my dad's legacy. But my chest felt tight, an inexplicable weight pressing down on my lungs.Just nerves, I told myself, taking a deep, stabilizing breath. You’re just overwhelmed.I smoothed down the fabric of my tailored white dress, the one Tristan had picked out for me. Tristan. My fiancé of three years, the man who had held my hand through the darkest days after my parents died. In just an hour, he would be sitting by my side as I signed the pa







