All Chapters of Rebirth of The Forsaken Heiress: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

As the Valemonts arrived in the Rothschild’s estate, the grand, cold museum of wealth welcomed them. As they stepped out of the car, Eleanor felt her father, Leon, place a steadying hand on her back.“Remember,” Leon murmured, his voice low and for her ears only as they approached the door. Cecilia was on his arm. “We are here as equals. Do not let him make you feel like a guest.”Lucian met them at the door. He greeted Leon and Cecilia with a respectful nod, and his stiff smile softened at the sight of Eleanor.“Sir.” He then turned to Cecilia, his expression softening. “Madame Valemont, I’m glad you were well enough to join us.”“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cecilia replied, her smile gracious but her eyes sharp.The scene in the dining room was a tableau of simmering tension. Simone Rothschild stood with a warm, practiced smile on his face that did not quite reach his eyes.“Leon! It is good to see you,” Simone said, his handshake with Leon was firm. “And Cecilia, you look ra

The footsteps echoed down the derelict hall in a slow and deliberate manner. They stopped directly outside the records room door. Lucian extinguished his phone’s light, plunging them into near-total darkness. He gently pushed Eleanor behind a large, overturned filing cabinet, his body shielding hers as he peered through a crack.The doorknob turned with a loud, metallic shriek.The door swung open, silhouetting a tall figure in the faint moonlight. He paused, his gaze sweeping the room.“I know you are in here,” Damien said, his voice calm and even. “There is no need to hide, Lucian.”Lucian stepped out from behind the cabinet, his stance wary. “What are you doing here?”“The same thing you are, apparently,” Damien replied, stepping into the room. His eyes landed on the open Iris Project ledger on the table. “St. Jerome’s. When you said the name at dinner, it triggered a memory.”He walked further into the room with his expensive shoes crunching on fallen plaster. “I was a boy. I co

The boardroom was filled with the low murmur of conversation and the scraping of chairs. The tension broke, replaced by a grudging respect aimed squarely at Eleanor. Several board members approached her, offering quiet congratulations on a "well-navigated presentation." Simone Rothschild sat stiffly at the head of the table. His face was a mask of thunderous fury. His defeat was absolute and public.Across the room, Jane Thorne stood frozen with a pale face. The authority had bled out of her, leaving behind the hollow look of someone who had gambled everything and lost. But she signed and confidently followed Mr. Delgado out. Amidst the quiet victory, Eleanor’s eyes found Lucian’s. He had not moved from his seat, but his gaze was locked on her, filled with an undisguised pride that made her heart ache. Lucian gave her a subtle nod, then rose and slipped out of the room. She excused herself and followed him into the quiet hallway.He was waiting for her by the large windows overlooki

Back in the quiet sanctuary of their hotel room, the adrenaline of the confrontation faded, leaving a heavy silence. Lucian stood at the window, staring out at the dark, as if the answers he needed were hidden in its depths.“It does not feel right,” he said. His voice was a low rumble of disturbed thought. His back remained to her. “ Doing something like that just to cover up a business deal? My father would have just bought her silence. This is… extreme.”Eleanor went to Lucian with her heart aching at the turmoil she could feel rolling off his powerful frame. She wrapped her arms around the solid wall of his waist, pressing her cheek against his strong back. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s monstrous.”Lucian turned slowly in her arms, and the weary pain etched on his face made her breath catch. “She was sane, Eleanor. All these years, I thought… maybe there was some truth to it. But she was just a prisoner.”“We will find her,” she promised, her hands coming up to cup his face, he

Lucian's world narrowed to the space of a single, ragged breath. One moment, Dr. Fiske was a living, revealing an unexpected secret. The next, he was a slumped, lifeless weight.Lucian did not hesitate. His mind, trained for crisis, bypassed shock and went straight to survival. He did not look toward the source of the shot. He did not wait to see the face of the assassin. He stood, knocking his chair backward, and moved.Lucian walked out of the café. His pace was swift but controlled. Every instinct screamed at him to flee, but he knew running would draw attention. He kept his head down, hands jammed in his pockets, and blended into the pre-dawn shadows of the Geneva waterfront.He did not look back. He could feel the unseen eyes on him, a cold prickle on his skin. Lucian knew he was being watched, assessed. As he turned the final corner onto the street where his rental car was parked, he allowed himself a single, fleeting glance into the reflective glass of a darkened shop window.