The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on walls like whispers in the dark. Yara sat across from Elias, her fingers interlaced, her expression grave.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said.
Elias looked tired, but unshaken. "I didn't come for pleasantries."
Yara nodded. "Then let's get to it."
She pulled out a thin, metallic case from her jacket and slid it across the table. Inside were four small vials filled with a clear liquid, a headset, and what looked like a data key.
"It's neural induction," she explained. "Not legal, not safe. But it pulls the deepest memories. Especially ones your mind buried under trauma."
Elias stared at the vials.
"What happens if it doesn't work?"
"You'll get a migraine. If it does you may not like what you remember."
He picked up a vial.
"I stopped liking what I see a long time ago."
They began the induction. Yara clipped the node to the base of his neck, fed a few commands into the console, and pressed Activate.
The world son
A younger Elias. The yacht. A glass of wine. The faint taste of something bitter. Then screams. A fire. Smoke. A fight on the upper deck. He was chasing someone no, he was *being chased*. The man in the grey suit Maxwell. He was yelling something, but it was muffled by the sound of a gunshot.
Then water.
Ice-cold.
Elias gasped, thrashing, sweat rolling down his forehead as the vision ended.
"Maxwell shot me…" he said hoarsely.
Yara nodded. "Or someone wanted you to think that."
He looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"There was another body on that boat. Same height, same clothes. Burned beyond recognition. They declared *him* dead, not you. Whoever planned this wanted you to vanish."
"Duchess," he growled. "They needed a scapegoat. Someone to inherit *nothing*."
"And now you have everything. Which makes you a threat."
Before Elias could respond, the front door creaked open.
Jude entered.
But he wasn't alone.
Magritte was with him.
Elias stood abruptly.
"What is she doing here?"
Magritte stepped forward, not with shame, but quiet strength.
"She warned me you were unraveling things fast. I had to be sure you weren't walking into a trap."
Jude looked between them. "She helped me track Grant. He's not in the city anymore. But he left something behind."
He placed a black satchel on the table.
Inside, documents, surveillance tapes, and one photo.
The moment Elias saw it, his face drained of color.
It was of him Elias as a child.
But not alone.
Next to him, holding his hand, was a boy who looked exactly like Jude.
"What the hell?"
Magritte stepped forward. "You weren't an only child."
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
Elias stared at Jude, heart pounding. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Jude was pale. "I didn't know either. My mother worked for the Thornes. She was dismissed under mysterious circumstances. I never knew my father."
Yara whispered, "This changes everything."
Indeed, it did.
A second heir. A secret sibling. And someone maybe Duchess, maybe someone older had gone to great lengths to keep them apart.
"But why hide this?" Elias asked.
"Because power divided is power weakened," Magritte said. "And someone didn't want the bloodline secured by more than one."
Elias was shaking not from fear, but fire. Everything he'd fought for... every shadow he stepped through… was about more than revenge now.
It was legacy.
It was survival.
Magritte reached out, touching his hand softly. "You don't have to do this alone anymore."
He looked at her, emotion flickering in his eyes.
"I don't know what you are to me, Magritte. An enemy. A temptation. A lie. But every time you walk into the room, my past gets sharper."
"And your future?" she asked.
He paused. "Still blurry."
Yara coughed, interrupting. "I suggest we focus on the present. Duchess is holding a secret summit tomorrow. They're drafting an internal vote to remove you permanently not just from the company, but from all assets tied to the Thorne estate."
Elias straightened.
"Then we crash the summit."
"Security will be tight," Jude warned.
"I'm not going to fight them," Elias said, his voice calm. "I'm going to buy them."
Yara smirked. "With what?"
He opened the satchel and pulled out the deed.
"To the one thing they want more than me."
He turned it to them.
"The Draxon Energy Contracts. I own them now. And without them, Duchess loses fifty percent of its power grid stake."
Magritte stared at him, pride mixing with something softer.
"You've changed."
He met her gaze. "No. I've remembered who I was."