Three days later, the vultures finally descended to tear away the last shred of dignity the family had left.Alexander Rosier had summoned every member of the direct bloodline to the Hamptons estate, a sprawling, white seaside mansion built in the roaring 1920s. It had once belonged to a railroad tycoon, a monument to the Gilded Age, but today it felt like a mausoleum. The structure was merely a hollow shell of pomp, rotting from the inside out. The July afternoon sun was toxic, a blinding white heat that threatened to melt the asphalt of the driveway, yet inside the conference room, the temperature had been cranked down so low it felt like a morgue.Ava arrived last.She had made a deliberate choice not to change. She wore the same black silk dress that had been ruined three days ago, the fabric stiff with dried vintage wine. Over it, she had thrown a men’s black trench coat, oversized and severe, the collar pulled up high to obscure the mottled bruises blooming on her neck—souvenirs
Last Updated : 2025-12-04 Read more