All Chapters of THE HEIRESS BEHIND THE MADNESS: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

WRENThe blast doors slammed shut above us with a heavy, concussive thud that rattled the fillings in my teeth. Up in the estate’s main office, the High Council’s execution squad was turning the sanctuary into a slaughterhouse, but down in the damp subterranean tunnel beneath the study, the world narrowed to the sound of Kael’s labored breathing.He was bleeding out.I hauled his arm over my shoulder, the heat of his body radiating through his wet jacket. The scent of copper, tobacco, and expensive cologne clung to his skin, thick in the stagnant underground air. Every step he took left a smear of dark crimson along the jagged stone walls.“Keep moving,” Kael growled, his voice gravelly against my ear. His fingers dug into my waist, partly for leverage, but with a sudden possessive tightness that sent electricity down my spine. “They’ll blow the inner breach in under two minutes.”“You can barely stand, Kael,” I hissed, locking my arm around his torso. My hand pressed against his ribs

WRENMy jaw burned from holding a slack, vacant expression for four straight hours.Downstairs in the drawing room, I had played my part to absolute perfection. I had sat near the cold hearth, staring blankly at the unlit logs, letting my hands tremble against my knees whenever Julian crossed the room. When he handed me the harmless sugar pill with a glass of stale water, I swallowed it without a fight, letting him stroke my hair like a man fondling a prize horse he had finally broken. He whispered about how fragile I was, how much I needed him to handle the Ashford trust before my mind completely shattered.I hated the chalky taste on my tongue, but I hated the sickening pity in his eyes even more.Now, midnight had settled over Ashford Manor like a wet wool blanket. The heavy drapes in my bedchamber were drawn, but I stood in the narrow space between the velvet fabric and the ice-cold glass of the bay window. Rain clawed at the windowpanes, blurring the formal Cotswolds gardens belo

WRENTomorrow at midnight.The glowing white text on the matte-black screen blurred into a smear of harsh light. My lungs seized, the air suddenly thin and icy in my throat.I couldn’t breathe.Julian’s betrayal was one thing. A greedy, narcissistic man stealing a fortune was a tragedy I could understand. But this?This document bore the unmistakable, heavy-handed signature of Duchess Beatrix Ashford.My grandmother.The woman who had brushed my hair before my mother’s funeral. The woman who had once told me I was the only future this family had.She wasn’t trying to protect the Ashford name from my supposed madness.She had funded it.And now that Lyra was closing in on Julian, Beatrix was tying up the loose ends.A permanent offshore facility meant a black-site asylum. No records. No visitors. A ghost ship for inconvenient heiresses.“Wren.”Kael’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater.“Wren, look at me.”I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the date.Tomorrow.Twenty-four

WRENBeatrix wasn’t just in Mayfair. She was here.The words hung in the suffocating silence. Downstairs, the grandfather clock struck three, its hollow chimes echoing through the floorboards like a warning.Silas stepped farther into the room, his charcoal coat sweeping behind him. The sharp smell of wet asphalt and gun oil followed him inside. He was Beatrix’s shadow, the man who handled quiet disappearances and clean paper trails for the Ashford family.His gray eyes ignored Julian, who stood near the broken doorway, wiping sweat from his forehead. Silas stopped a few feet from Kael, perfectly relaxed.“The Duchess doesn’t tolerate anomalies, Dr. Vane,” he said. “And you are a considerable man. A high-profile specialist accepting an off-the-books contract at an isolated estate, overseeing a patient whose blood work has been flagged twice by our Mayfair servers.”My heart beat kept racing. I pressed myself harder against the bathroom wall, my knees drawn to my chest, fingers picki

WRENThe echo of the gunshot bled into the howling Cotswolds wind, dying almost as quickly as it had shattered the night.I stood frozen beside the chessboard, my hand trembling against the cool back of the wingback chair. My eyes moved between the ivory parchment and Kael’s pale, shadowed face.Ask your doctor what he placed in Lyra’s tea three days ago.The words burned into my mind. Downstairs, boots pounded across the gravel, followed by muffled shouting from Beatrix’s guards. Inside my bedchamber, silence pressed around us.“Kael,” I repeated, my voice fragile. “What did you do?”He stepped toward me, his hands raised slightly.“Wren, listen to me. Lyra was intercepting your placebo supply. Three days ago, she attempted to replace your harmless sugar capsules with a lethal neuro-inhibitor—a permanent sedative designed to induce cardiac failure before the gala.”My breath caught. “And you poisoned her?”“I swapped the cups,” Kael said. “I didn’t give her a lethal dose. I gave her