005. Find her.

 Myles' POV 

The following day.

My office door opened without a knock. The witch never knocked, not once in thirty-one years, as though the act itself would concede some power she wasn't willing to give.

"You could at least knock." My jaw ticked. 

"You could at least look pleased to see your mother." She said, crossing the office and settling into the chair across from my desk. 

"State what you here came for." I said, my voice icy. 

"Must I want something before I visit my only son?" She asked. I just stared at her. 

She continued, “Celeste called me this morning. She said she tried to video call you from London about delays with her Master's program, you didn't answer."

“If that's why you're here this morning, please see yourself out.“ I returned to the file on my desk, not bothering to look up again.

She was quiet for a moment. 

“Fine. But at least eat something. You've gotten really lean. Your cheekbones are practically cutting glass."

Then something crossed my mind. I'd been meaning to ask her. 

"I know this may sound strange, but I saw a kid the other day in the supermarket. She had my—"

A knock interrupted me. Then my secretary stepped in with his tablet, expression tight.

"Sorry to interrupt." He bowed, then continued, "Something's come up, something really strange. I think you'll both want to hear this."

Something strange? 

“Go ahead.“ I said.

 "I noticed a pattern a few weeks ago and didn't think much of it at first.“ He began.

“A handful of smaller companies connected to Grosky Holdings are changing ownership quietly. I almost dismissed it as coincidence.“ He placed the tablet in front of us. 

"What do you mean?" my mother asked.

"Five subsidiary companies connected to us have been absorbed over the past year and a half by a private equity firm. Also, Ashcombe Industries' board is deciding now whether to finalize this merger with this same firm. If it passes, they inherit Ashcombe's full stake in us which is twelve percent."

I frowned, “Who is this firm?“

“Bronzo Capital.“ 

Bronzo Capital? I froze. Victoria Smith. That woman who had the little girl at the restaurant, Kitty. David said she worked as an assistant in Bronzo Capital. I couldn't be mistaken.

Was it her boss doing this? 

“Henry?“ I called. 

“Yes sir.“ 

“Make sure Bronzo Capital fails to absorb Ashcombe. Reach out to Ashcombe's CEO directly, and offer them better terms than Bronzo has on the table, whatever it takes."

“On it, sir.“

Beside me, my mother was finger tapping the table, her expression stoic. 

“Who is behind that firm?“ 

“Alonzo Russo. He is the co-founder, Senior managing partner and Head of Investments at Bronzo capital.“ Henry answered. 

Silence fell. 

"Russo." She repeated the surname. 

"Is he Italian?"

"He's Ialian-American, ma'am."

She nodded. 

“And who is the other Co-founder?“ she looked at the secretary. 

"The other co-founder is unknown, ma'am."

"What do you mean?" My mother's brows furrowed. 

Henry cleared his throat. "Although the firm has gone public, Alonzo Russo is the public face of Bronzo Capital. The other co-founder's identity was never disclosed."

My mother went silent, leaning back in her chair, tapping the table in thought.

It was possible that the other co founder could be the one doing this. 

Her phone buzzed and she picked it up. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she shot up from her chair, shocked.

"What is it?" I asked, rising to my feet in alarm. 

She drew in a slow breath, then forced a smile. "Nothing. Just one of those issues that crops up in business.“ She was already reaching for her bag.

Then she stormed out of the office.

I didn't know why, but my gut told me this wasn't just "one of those business issues.“

In more than two decades, I had rarely seen her let anything crack her composure, not a hostile takeover, not even my father's illness, nothing. So whatever had just happened, it wasn't a normal problem. 

I grabbed my jacket and followed at a distance. She didn't head for her own office. She turned toward the private elevator instead.

I reached the lobby just as she rounded the corner, already mid-call.

"...obviously she has a death wish!“

"Listen, Myles can't know she's in New York City before I've handled this, do you understand?!" she whisper-yelled.

 "Find her immediately, or you're finished. I mean that in every sense of the word."

She hung up, stepped into the elevator, and was gone.

So who was in New York she was so against me finding out about?

Dozens of possibilities raced through my mind. A competitor? Someone from the Harrington deal?

Could it be...?

My eyes widened. What?!

In a rush of adrenaline, I hurried back to my office and dialed my PA. As the phone rang, I paced about, unable to stand still. Damn, my insides were vibrating. After five years. After five fucking years. 

David picked. 

"Quick, check every airport arrival log and hotel booking under the name Theodora Brown for the last forty-eight hours." I said breathlessly. 

"Sir, is she—"

"Yes, Thea is back. My mother's also looking for her.“ My throat was dry. 

"You have five minutes to send me Thea's location." I ended the call.