Roland’s voice entered the hall.«“You will place this inside his coat.”»His assistant’s frightened response followed.«“You want me to frame him for stealing it?”»«“I want you to follow my instructions.”»The recording ended.Roland stared at the tablet.His own voice had removed every defence available to him.Simon remained seated beside Clara. “You intended to make me leave this estate as a thief.”Roland’s lips trembled. “I believed you were informing the chairman about the proposal.”“You were correct,” Simon replied. “I was informing myself.”Several Ashbourne advisers lowered their heads to hide their reactions.The statement destroyed what remained of Roland’s confidence.Marcus placed the last group of financial records upon the table.“The false supporting documents were not financed by Roland alone. Payments entered accounts controlled by his associates shortly before the revised proposal was completed.”Damien’s eyes narrowed.Marcus looked directly towards him.“Those

Simon Gallagher barely heard Genevieve end the call. For several seconds, he stood beside the banquet table with his phone pressed against his ear, struggling to accept what she had told him. His grandfather was dying, and every minute he spent inside the Ashbourne residence was another minute he might never recover.He slipped his phone into his jacket and hurried towards the exit. Clara noticed his sudden departure and called his name, but Simon was already passing through the doors. He offered no explanation. The revelation concerning Arranguare had left the entire Ashbourne family in confusion, and Simon had neither the time nor the strength to answer their questions.Within minutes, he was driving towards Betford Central Hospital. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as Genevieve's frightened voice repeated itself in his head. He had confronted armies, survived assassination attempts and watched powerful enemies fall before him. Yet the possibility of losing his grandfa

Pa Gallagher watched Simon for several seconds before speaking. His breathing was uneven, but he tightened his weak fingers around Simon's hand."Do you remember the Crownfall Front?" Pa asked.Simon frowned. "Of course. I fought them in Navauria. Grandfather, why are you asking about rebels who were defeated years ago?""Because you never knew who was helping them," Pa replied. "Jebbah financed their operations. The republic of Colsvogg supplied weapons and military advisers. The men you fought had friends in countries far beyond Navauria's borders."Simon leaned forward. Crownfall had used equipment the rebels could never have purchased themselves. "We suspected that they had foreign support during the continental war. If that's what you wanted to tell me, it can wait until you're stronger.""No, my boy. There's more." Pa swallowed and rested against his pillow. "Some of those friends were sitting inside our own imperial government."Simon's grip loosened. "What are you saying?""Of

The first handful of soil struck Pa Gallagher's coffin, and Simon felt a pain that no battlefield injury had ever caused him.For several minutes, he stood motionless beside the grave, watching the burial attendants carry out their duties. His grandfather was finally being laid to rest, and the painful reality of his death had become impossible to escape.The funeral was taking place at a private cemetery in Betford. Despite Simon's immense wealth and influence as chairman of the Arranguare Group, he had deliberately arranged a modest ceremony. It was a remarkable contrast to the life Pa Gallagher had once lived. Years earlier, he had occupied the imperial throne of Navauria, one of the world's great military powers. As emperor, he had commanded enormous respect, enjoyed extraordinary wealth, and possessed the authority to influence the destiny of an entire nation. However, he had voluntarily abandoned his imperial responsibilities and the privileges of royalty to pursue a quieter, s