Semua Bab THE HEIRESS: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Damien - Hartman Tower Research Division, 06:45 a.m.Most people think silence in a server room means calm. It doesn’t. It means the data is listening.I’d spent all night buried in Adrian’s Rosetta Key fragments, re‑assembling sequences line by line. The code spoke in numbers and half‑phrases…multilingual hybrids built to hide history inside finance scripts. I wasn’t decoding machinery; I was unearthing confession.The words finally aligned mid‑screen:Project Origin – Funded By: Drayke. Crane Holdings (Blackwood Subsidiary)Victor Drayke.The same name we’d heard whispered through short‑term trade mergers years ago, the kind Elias called “ghost investors.” Only now the ghosts had faces.“Evelyn needs to see this,” I muttered.A door hissed open behind me. Elias stepped in, coffee already half‑gone, tie imperfect, proof of an equally sleepless night.“Tell me that tone means discovery,” he said.“It means someone rewrote our family history through shell companies,” I replied, turning

Evelyn - Transit, Heathrow to GenevaThe cabin air smelled faintly of recirculated exhaustion and espresso. I should have been briefing the board on fiscal recovery; instead, I was chasing the ghost of a woman whose name existed in every clause but no registry.Damien sat beside me, scrolling through the decrypted Silent Signatories file.“Drayke’s subsidiaries are multiplying,” he said. “He’s splitting one parent company into seven children every three days. Each inherits fragments of Voss’s original patent.”“So by the time regulators trace one, six more exist,” I murmured.“Exactly. And Reed’s algorithms are doing the legwork. Automated corporate mitosis.”Rain streaked the window as the plane banked east. Through the faint reflection I saw my own face…not tired, but sharpened. There’s a specific breed of fear that only arrives when your enemy starts using your signature.“Geneva,” I whispered. “Where the ghosts keep witness.”***Dr. Margaret Voss - Private Chalet, GenevaShe hadn

Hartman Tower - Security FloorThe elevator doors opened, and Elias was already there…immaculate as always, but with a tension that cracked through his polished facade.“You’re early,” he said. “Good. We have a situation.”He led us inside the security suite. The screens showed nothing unusual at first glance, until one window expanded.Attempted intrusion logs.Crane’s digital signature.And Luca Varyn standing like a statue in front of them, arms folded, expression dark.When he turned to see me, the tension in his posture shifted…not softened, but focused.“Evelyn,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come to London.”“Of course I should have,” I said, stepping closer. “What’s the status?”“Emma is safe,” Luca confirmed immediately. “Elias increased her guard detail. They won’t touch her.”“Crane tried to prove he could,” Damian murmured.Luca’s jaw tightened. “He won’t again. I’ll handle him.”Elias moved to the centre console. “Reed is worse. She’s making calls we can’t trace.”“She’s m

Hartman Tower - Executive War Room, 32nd FloorRain hammered the glass, turning the London skyline into a smear of lights. The generator thrummed beneath the floor. Power flickered back in restless waves.Elias stood by the long table, hands braced against the surface as if steadying the entire tower. Damian worked furiously over a console. Luca stood near the window, silhouette rigid, watching the street below for threats.Adrian paced.Not nervously.Strategically.The black compliance letter, still unopened…rested on the table between us like a live grenade.Elias didn’t look up as he said, “Open it.”Adrian didn’t move. “Not until we’re sure she can handle it.”Luca snapped, “She can handle more than you ever did.”Adrian turned, expression cold, but he didn’t rise to the bait.I reached for the envelope myself.“No,” Adrian said sharply. “Let me.”“Adrian,” I said evenly, “if this letter is about my mother, I have every right to read it.”His jaw flexed, but he relented. Slowly,

Hartman Tower - Emergency Shuttered Floor, Level 32The room was a red‑lit cage.Steel shutters sealed the glass.The air was too still, as if the entire building held its breath with us.Crane’s voice had been unmistakable.Luca’s grip tightened on his weapon. “He’s inside the tower.”Elias echoed the thought none of us wanted to voice. “Then he used a family credential.”Damian shook his head. “Or a backdoor Mother left unintentionally.”“No,” Adrian corrected, voice low, analytical. “Margaret never left anything unintentionally.”My pulse thudded, loud against the humming silence.Then Crane’s voice came again…closer this time, feeding through the emergency intercom.“I want a conversation, Evelyn.”Luca swore under his breath. “He wants leverage.”Damian answered, fingers flying over his tablet. “He’s tunnelling through internal power nodes. Charlotte must’ve planted hardware months ago.”Adrian narrowed his eyes. “If Crane is on Level 30, he’s near the Hartman Vault Annex.”Elias