Elena didn't leave the storage room.She couldn't. Every document she read pulled her deeper into a nightmare she couldn't wake from. The climate-controlled air felt suffocating as she spread papers across the floor, creating a timeline of her mother's involvement with the Ashfords.August 1997: Initial contact. A letter from Victor Ashford to Catherine Sterling, requesting consultation on "a delicate medical matter requiring discretion and expertise in corporate acquisition."September 1997: Catherine's response. Professional, careful, but the underlying message clear—she was interested. The fee discussed: fifty million dollars.Elena's hands trembled as she read her mother's words. Clinical. Businesslike. As if they were discussing a merger instead of people's lives.October 1997: The project files.This was where Elena's world truly shattered.The Thorne family—Dr. William Thorne, his son David, and daughter-in-law Margaret—had developed something revolutionary. The documents used

Elena burst through the doors of Sterling Tech's executive floor without acknowledging the receptionist's greeting. She marched straight to her father's corner office, the folder clutched against her chest like evidence in a trial.Marcus was on a conference call, but one look at his daughter's face made him cut it short."I'll call you back," he said into the phone, already standing. "Family emergency."The door clicked shut behind Elena. She threw the folder onto his desk with enough force that papers scattered across the polished surface."Did you know?" Her voice shook. "Did you know what Mother did?"Marcus stared at the documents. His face, usually so composed in business settings, crumbled. His shoulders slumped as if a weight he'd been carrying for years suddenly doubled."Yes," he said quietly. "I knew."The admission felt like a physical blow. Elena had hoped—irrationally, desperately—that her father would be as shocked as she was. That he'd been ignorant, innocent, that the

The coffee shop was small, tucked into a side street where tourists didn't venture and business executives rarely bothered. James chose it deliberately—neutral ground, anonymous, somewhere he could think without the weight of the villa pressing down on him.Sophia arrived exactly on time, dressed simply in jeans and a sweater. No makeup beyond the basics. She looked more like the woman he'd married years ago than the actress who'd paraded her new relationship at industry events."Thank you for agreeing to this," Sophia said, sliding into the booth across from him."I'm not sure why I did," James admitted."Because you need someone who understands what you're going through." Sophia ordered tea when the waitress appeared, then focused on James with an intensity that felt strange coming from her. "And I do understand. I've been where Elena is—shutting someone out who loves me. I don't know why she's doing it, but I know exactly how it feels to be on your end."James stared into his coffe

Harrison's estate felt like a sanctuary after the suffocating tension of the villa. The old man greeted James at the door himself, leaning on his cane but looking far healthier than he had weeks ago."James, my boy." Harrison clapped him on the shoulder. "Come in, come in. Victoria told me you needed a place to stay.""I hope I'm not imposing—""Nonsense. This house has fifty rooms. Use as many as you like." Harrison studied James's face. "Lover's quarrel? These things happen, you know. Give her a few days to cool off, then apologize for whatever you did wrong. Works like a charm.""It's more than a quarrel." James set his bag down in the marble foyer. "She's become someone I don't recognize. Pulling away, hiding things, shutting me out completely."Victoria appeared at the top of the grand staircase, descending with the grace of someone raised in wealth. Her expression was sympathetic but carefully neutral."I'm sorry you're going through this," she said."You talked to her." It wasn

"I just found out," Elena said, the words tumbling out desperately. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you—""How long?" James didn't turn around. His voice was dead, flat. "How long have you known?""A week. Since right after Victor's visit to the villa."James turned slowly. His face had hardened into something Elena barely recognized—all the warmth, all the vulnerability he'd shown her, gone. Replaced by ice."A week." He repeated the words like they were foreign. "You've known for a week that your family destroyed mine, and you said nothing?""I was scared! I didn't know how to—""You LIED." James's voice rose, control fracturing. "Just like Sophia lied. Just like everyone in my life lies. You looked me in the eyes every day this week and lied.""I didn't know what to do—""You could have told me the truth!" James stepped toward her, and Elena instinctively stepped back. "You could have trusted me. You could have given me the choice instead of making it for me.""I know, I kn