The Legacy Elle Kennedy Novels & Stories

They were sitting on the living room. “Mommy! Look, grandma is here!” Claire isn’t as fond of Eliana as she is with Victoria. But, she still missed her grandma. “Ellyse,” Her mother stood up. Eliana Kennedy is wearing a long dress sage green silk dress, her hair is up in a french twist. Her wrists are filled with gold bangles, she was literally dripping in gold. “Mom,” She walked towards her to plant a brief kiss on her cheek. “Let’s talk somewhere,” She whispered to her. She didn’t want Claire to hear any of what she was saying.

His coffee mug sat on a coaster, probably still containing the last coffee he'd made before the heart attack that killed him. I shouldn't be here and I knew it, but I couldn't stop thinking about that foundation. The Elena Rose Foundation. The photos of Richard with Lily's mother. The years of anonymous support that connected them. There had to be answers somewhere, and if Willis wouldn't tell me, then I'd find them myself. I started with the bookshelves, running my fingers along spines and looking for anything hidden behind the rows of art history texts and business strategy guides. Nothing except dust and a few bookmarks.

But silence is just complicity in finer clothes. A knock at the door. Reid peeked in. “You all right?” I nodded. “Just give me a moment.” He nodded and stepped out. I turned back to the letter. I’ve seen what you’ve built. Not just Imperial Holdings. But the life. The strength. The dignity you carry even when your name is dragged through ash. I saw you on television with Kelvin. I saw the way he looks at you. And I thought—there is a woman who never stopped protecting a legacy no one gave her credit for.

“There were people who didn’t know what happened to you, yet they all laid here on the ground, dead because you killed them. You didn’t want to talk, and you didn’t want to listen!” “And did you listen when you all collaborated with the enemies to destroy my pack and also hurt the people I care about? Did you all think about the consequences when you were all lying to me all those years ago, making me believe I was a part of all of you? Did you try to talk things out when Gray killed my parents and kidnapped me from them?” She was quiet, but it didn’t mean she was reflecting. She still glared at me as if I hadn’t made a lot of attempts at trying to bring peace before it all went down.

Killian sat in the back with Elena, his arm around her, his eyes never leaving the window. "We spent ninety days trying to destroy the legacy, Elena," Killian said, his voice a low, fierce rasp. "And now we’re the ones carrying it into the future." "We’re not carrying the legacy, Killian," Elena replied, looking at the white scar on her ring finger. "We’re carrying the choice. Our fathers didn't have a choice. Sarah didn't have a choice. But this child... this child will be the first Vance-Vanderwall born into a world where the energy belongs to everyone."

Valeriana picked up Jamie and followed him out into the night, knowing that once she stepped into Logan's world, there was no turning back. As they reached the lobby, Logan’s grip on the suitcase tightened. He stopped and stared at the front glass doors. A woman was standing there, leaning against a red sports car. She was holding a phone in her hand, a cruel smile on her face. "Going somewhere, Logan?" Rebecca asked, her eyes landing on the bundle in Valeriana’s arms. "I think it’s time we had a little chat about your hidden legacy."

The triage of the stars was a memory, but the triage of the seasons was a victory. "They are ready, Elara," Killian said, pulling me into a hard, romantic embrace. "They are more than ready, Killian," I replied, my gold-ringed eyes reflecting the rising sun. The Sovereign Legacy was no longer a title; it was a heartbeat that could withstand the deepest freeze.

“You didn’t look intimidated.” “I wasn’t.” A small pause. She leaned back slightly. “You do realize this isn’t over.” “I assumed as much.” She tilted her head. “You think this is about love.” I met her gaze steadily. “It is.” “For you,” she corrected. “For our families, this is about legacy.” “Legacy shouldn’t require consent removal,” I replied calmly. Her lips pressed together briefly. “You don’t understand how this world works.” “And you don’t understand that Elijah isn’t property.”

"She’s freezing the kids' trust funds. If I can't prove their legitimacy to the Council of Five Families, they’ll be legally declared 'outside the line.' They won't even be allowed to use the name Vance-Thorne." Elara sat at the mahogany desk, her laptop open. She wasn't looking at stock prices. She was looking at archived news from twenty-five years ago. "Lucian, look at this," she said, turning the screen. It was a grainy photo of a debutante ball. A young Lucian stood in the background, but the center of the photo was a girl with wild dark hair and the same piercing gray eyes. She was laughing—a genuine, unrefined laugh that Beatrice would have hated.

I had built an empire on cruelty, used it when necessary, and watched men break under it. But reading her file…it felt different. The abuse didn’t have volume, but it was repetitive. Helena Bennett, stepmother, married Mr. George Bennett after his first wife had died. Camille Bennett, half-sister, three years younger. I studied their pictures. This was the girl I was supposed to get married to, before Liora was picked. Something inside me shuddered. The words on the pages were too clean to describe what they really meant. Emotional neglect.