Chapter 8

Ashes in the Drawer

Victoria locked her apartment door behind her and kicked off her heels with a sharp flick. The city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but she ignored them. She walked straight to the sleek black desk in her living room, fingers trembling slightly as she pulled a small key from her necklace.

She knelt and unlocked the bottom drawer. It slid open with a soft whisper.

Stacks of envelopes filled the space. All addressed to Adrian. All in Sophia’s handwriting.

Victoria picked up the first one, turning it over in her hands. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You never stopped trying, did you?” she muttered, voice low and edged. “Even after I made sure he never saw these.”

She carried the stack to the marble fireplace and struck a match. The flame danced as she held the first letter to it. The corner caught, curling black. She dropped it into the grate and watched the fire take hold.

One by one, she put them in, her movements stayed precise, controlled.

“Dear Adrian,” she read aloud from the next envelope before burning it. “I miss the man who used to come home before dark.” She laughed once, short and cold, as the paper blackened. “He was never that man, not really.”

The flames crackled louder. She picked up another, thicker envelope. Her fingers tightened on the edges. “The baby announcement, you really thought he’d care?”

She tossed it in,the fire flared brighter. Orange light flickered across her face. Her hands shook as she reached for the next ones, but her back stayed straight. She put them steadily, eyes fixed on the growing pile of ash.

When the letters were gone, she brushed her hands together and reached deeper into the drawer. Her fingers brushed against a small photograph. She pulled it out slowly.

Sophia, sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, holding a positive pregnancy test. A small, hopeful smile on her face. The date on the back was from three years ago.

Victoria stared at it. Her free hand came up to cover her mouth. The smile she forced didn’t touch her eyes. It stretched tight across her face, more like a grimace. Her shoulders rose and fell faster. She gripped the photo so hard the edges bent.

“You thought a baby would fix him,” she whispered to the image. “Make him stay home. Make him choose you.” She walked back to the fireplace, photo still in hand. “But I fixed it first.”

She held the photo over the flames. Her hand hovered there, shaking harder now. The heat licked at her fingers. “He doesn’t need you. Or this. The company needs him focused. The family needs him strong.”

She almost dropped it. At the last second, she pulled it back and clutched it to her chest. Her breathing came quick and shallow. She paced to the window, then back to the drawer, eyes darting.

Her phone sat on the desk. She snatched it up and dialed with quick jabs.

“Marcus,” she said when he answered, voice steady again but her free hand still gripping the photo. “It’s done. The papers are signed. She’s out.”

Marcus’s voice came through, calm and professional. “Any complications?”

Victoria turned her back to the fireplace, shoulders tense. “Nothing I can’t handle. But Adrian’s asking questions. The perfume. The calendar he noticed.” She laughed lightly into the phone, but her fingers twisted the edge of the photo. “He thinks I’m celebrating too much.”

“You are celebrating,” Marcus replied. “We all are. The merger needs his full attention. No more distractions.”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see, pacing to the window again. One hand pressed against the cool glass. “Exactly, what i told him she wasn’t built for this life. He’ll come around in a few days.” Her voice dropped. “But there’s something else. A message on his phone this morning. Daniel Laurent. He knows Sophia and told Adrian she deserves better than our family.”

A pause on the other end. “Handle it. Quietly.”

Victoria’s smile returned, still not reaching her eyes. She glanced back at the drawer. “I always do. Keep the board calm. I’ll make sure Adrian stays on track.” She ended the call and set the phone down hard.

She looked at the photo again. Sophia’s hopeful face stared back. Victoria’s thumb brushed over it once, almost gentle. Then her expression hardened. She walked to the fireplace and dropped the photo into the flames.

It caught quickly. The edges curled. Sophia’s smile disappeared in the fire.

“Goodbye,” Victoria whispered. She watched until only ash remained. Her hands finally stopped shaking. She straightened her jacket and poured herself a glass of wine from the sideboard, taking a long sip.

The apartment felt quieter now. Cleaner.

Her phone buzzed on the desk. She picked it up.

Unknown number.

Daniel Laurent: You can burn the letters, Victoria. But you can’t burn the truth. Sophia knows what you did. And soon, so will Adrian.

Victoria’s glass slipped from her fingers. It shattered on the marble floor, red wine spreading like blood.