บททั้งหมดของ HIS MISTRESS, MY REVENGE: บทที่ 151 - บทที่ 160

I pulled Sophia into Olivia's office and shut the door behind us."Say it again. Slowly.""The account is at a private bank on Whitfield Row in the Berkshires. Same street as Harold's summer estate. My mother banked there for twenty years. The wire moved three days ago, at four in the afternoon local time, under the signature of a woman who has been dead since October 2019, and the receiving Harrow subsidiary bought a two point four percent block of Lumière shares off the open market inside forty minutes.""Damien needs to be here.""Yes."I called him. He answered on the first ring, in the specific voice he used when he had not slept. He was in a car by the time I finished the second sentence.He arrived at Lumière at ten past nine with Nathan a step behind him, and I met them at the elevator, and I did not waste a single word on greeting."Your family has been buying my company for two years."His face did the thing it did when I had first told him I was leaving him, the color going

Nathan gave me until sunrise. He was back inside four hours.He came into the study at three fifty in the morning with his coat still on and a laptop under his arm and the specific tight expression of a man who had spent the intervening hours confirming a nightmare he had been hoping to disprove."Damien. He is alive."I did not move from the chair. I had not moved from it since Amelia had left."How certain.""Certain enough. I pulled the offshore filings on every Blackwood related shell going back eleven years. There are ninety one of them. Eighty seven were dormant until 2016, the year Richard supposedly died, at which point they should have been dissolved and the assets distributed to the estate. Instead, all eighty seven were quietly transferred, inside forty days of his death being declared, into a new umbrella structure registered in Monaco under a director whose passport photo has been sitting in the Monégasque commercial registry the entire time.""And.""And the passport pho

The market opened at nine thirty and by nine thirty six Lumière had lost eleven percent.I watched it from the head of the emergency board table with a phone in my left hand and a coffee I had not touched in my right and the small hard silence of eleven executives around me pretending they were not counting their own share prices in their heads. The tender offer had gone public inside twenty minutes of hitting the register. The financial press had picked it up before the exchange even opened. By the time the bell rang, three analysts had already published notes suggesting the offer was fair, generous, and probably the best outcome for shareholders given the scandal environment of the last four weeks.The word environment had done more damage than the offer had."Amelia."Richard Kwan, my chief financial officer. A man I had personally hired three years ago because I had valued his caution. His caution was doing exactly the thing I had feared it would do the day I signed him."Say it,

~Noah's POV~My mother read the message twice before she said anything.If you want to save your mother, stop asking questions.She set the phone down on the counter very carefully, the way she set things down when she wanted her hands to look calmer than the rest of her, and she looked at me with an expression I recognized from every hard year of my life, the one that meant she was about to try to protect me from something by taking it away from me entirely."That is the end of your research," she said. "Effective immediately.""Mom.""Noah, I am not negotiating this.""You are not the only one they are trying to scare into silence." I kept my voice steady, because raising it would have proven her point for her. "If I stop now, they win twice. They stop me, and they teach themselves that threatening a seventeen year old works. I am not giving them that lesson."She did not have an answer ready. Ethan put a hand on her shoulder, and something unspoken passed between them, and she did

~Ethan's POV~Amelia did not speak for a long moment after I said it.She reached across the table, gently, and turned the laptop back toward me, and then she sat down in the chair beside me, and she said, in the specific voice she used when she needed the world to move at her speed instead of its own, "Show me what they took. All of it. Do not filter."I opened the folder tree.I clicked through every subfolder, and the four of us sat in the quiet horror of watching six days of downloads scroll past.They had taken the folder marked Noah, 2018 to 2025. Every school report. Every doctor's appointment. Every photograph Amelia had taken of him blowing out a birthday candle since he was ten years old.They had taken the folder marked Wedding. Every image from the day Amelia and I had gotten married, private, unpublished, the ones she had never shown a single member of the press.They had taken the folder marked Marriage, prior. The one I had never opened in the seven years we had been ma