All Chapters of What Daddy Left Behind: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

~ Stellan’s POV"Fine, I will leave, but on my own terms."The words were entirely devoid of the hysterical, heartbroken sobbing that had filled the master suite just moments ago. They were quiet, laced with a brittle, freezing absolute resolve that made my dark brows furrow in immediate, sharp confusion.I had expected her to fight me. I had expected to have to command Graham to physically escort her to the armored SUV and place her on that jet to Switzerland. I had braced myself for the agonizing reality of forcing her into exile.Instead, Thea took a deliberate step back, wiping the wet tear tracks from her pale cheeks with the back of her hand. The profound devastation in her dark eyes was rapidly hardening into the steel of the Mercer bloodline.She looked at me, and I could see the exact narrative clicking into place behind her eyes. I had done my job too well. The brutal, unforgiving corporate mask I wore had convinced her entirely. She didn't see a man sacrificing his own sou

~ Thea's POV"Forgive me, Miss Thea, if you cooperate, we wouldn't be too harsh on you."The smooth, oily voice echoed from the shadows of the adjoining formal parlor, cutting through the chilling silence of the grand foyer.I whipped my head away from the locked front doors, my pulse hammering a frantic, erratic beat against my throat. A man stepped out into the harsh, glaring light of the crystal chandelier. He was tall, remarkably thin, and dressed in a slate-grey suit that screamed expensive but lacked the terrifying, effortless dominance of Stellan’s bespoke tailoring. He carried a sleek leather briefcase in one hand and wore a polite, entirely insincere smile that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes.I didn't recognize him, but I recognized his breed instantly. He was a shark. A corporate litigator paid to clean up the messy, immoral desires of the obscenely wealthy.I tightened my grip on the canvas strap of my duffel bag, my boots planted firmly on the polished marble. I

~ Stellan’s POV"So you let her go?"Micah’s voice cut through the heavy, smoke-laced air of the underground VIP lounge like a dull blade.I didn't answer immediately. I sat slouched in the corner of the curved, oxblood leather booth, my tailored suit jacket discarded somewhere in the shadows, my silk tie pulled loose. The dim, amber lighting of the exclusive Manhattan club cast long, jagged shadows across the polished mahogany table between us.I slowly lifted my head, my jaw clenching so tight the muscle feathered violently along my cheek, and tossed him a glare so coated in lethal, absolute hostility that any other man would have instantly left the room.But Micah Don had known me since our days at Harvard Business School. He was a billionaire hedge fund manager who thrived on chaos, and he was the only man in the city arrogant enough to sit across from the Dragon of Wall Street while I was actively bleeding out."I did what was necessary," I finally grated out, my voice a dark, ja

~ Stellan’s POV"I can't do that."I ground the words out, my voice dropping into a harsh, warning gravel. I didn't break eye contact with Micah, holding his challenging stare over the rim of my crystal tumbler. "It's best she stays with her family, and I protect her from the sides."Micah let out a sharp, derisive scoff, tossing his head back against the oxblood leather of the VIP booth. The dim, amber lighting of the Manhattan club shadowed the profound disbelief in his eyes. "Protect her from the sides? Listen to yourself, Stellan. You sound like a damn corporate liability lawyer, not the man who gutted three hedge funds last quarter just because they looked at your assets the wrong way. You don't do anything 'from the sides.' You occupy. You conquer. You dominate.""This isn't a hostile takeover, Micah," I snapped, the absolute agony of my restraint bleeding through my fractured composure. I slammed the tumbler down on the polished mahogany table with a heavy thud. "It's her life.

~ Thea’s POVThe darkness wasn't peaceful. It was a suffocating, heavy blanket woven, dragging me down into a terrifying, paralyzed abyss.My mind was a frantic, screaming prisoner trapped inside a body that had completely ceased to obey me. I could feel the cold, slick marble of the foyer beneath my cheek. I could hear the muffled, distorted voices of my aunt and uncle echoing above me, sounding as though they were speaking through deep water.“The thumbprint secures the domestic accounts,” Uncle Robert’s voice warped and stretched in my fading consciousness. “But the Swiss transfer requires a wet signature. The international protocols mandate it. Get her upstairs. Stage the room. Write the note.”Rough, massive hands seized me. The mercenary didn't bother to carry me with any shred of dignity; he hauled me up over his shoulder like a slaughtered animal. My head hung limply, bouncing painfully against his solid back with every heavy step he took up the grand, sweeping staircase.I tr