2025-06-12 19:18:48
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— 58—
Michael sat across from Lizzy at Romano's, a quiet Italian restaurant downtown. Lizzy had insisted they meet somewhere private, away from the family mansion and prying eyes."You look terrible," Lizzy said, studying his face. "When's the last time you slept?""We:ll talk about that later," Michael replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "What did you find?"Lizzy glanced around the restaurant, then leaned forward. "I've been going through the gallery's transaction logs like you suggested. At first, everything seemed normal. Standard purchases, insurance payments, maintenance costs. But then I noticed something odd."She pulled out a folder from her purse and opened it on the table. Inside were photocopies of bank statements and receipts."These are payments from Frank to something called Korvich Advancement Initiative," she said, pointing to several highlighted entries. "They go back fifteen years, Michael. Millions of dollars."Michael's heart skipped. "KAI. That's Elena Korvich's comp
— 57 —
Outside the courthouse, Michael stood on the concrete steps with his mind reeling. The afternoon sun glared at his face, but he barely noticed it. Everything he thought he knew about his life had just been turned upside down in the space of an hour."So," he said, turning to face the red-haired woman who had just saved his life, "you're actually a girl."Alexis laughed, a sound that was both familiar and completely new. "I'm actually a woman," she corrected, her accent making the words sound more sophisticated than they would have in his own voice. "Twenty-five years old, master's degree in international business, and yes, I have been letting you assume I was male for months."Michael felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But why? I mean, all this time I thought you were just some guy helping me out with stuff.""Because," Alexis said, her green eyes twinkling with mischief, "when I first started talking to you online, I wasn't sure if you were a creep or not. You know how it is
— 56 —
Every head turned toward the courtroom entrance, where two the figures now stood silhouetted against the sunlit hallway behind them.Ava stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously. But it was the woman beside her who commanded immediate attention. She was tall, probably five foot eight, with striking red hair that fell to her shoulders. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her dark, well-tailored business suit, and her green eyes swept the courtroom with the kind of confidence that suggested she owned whatever space she occupied.Just when Michael started to wonder who this newcomer was and if she was a friend or foe, she finally spoke. "Your Honor," the red-haired woman said, her voice carrying a slight accent. "I apologize for this interruption, but I am here to ensure the safety of my partner."The Judge, who had been struggling to restore order after Zara's outburst, looked both annoyed and intrigued. "And you are?"The woman stepped forward and removed a document from her b
— 55 —
The courtroom was packed beyond capacity. Michael had expected a simple hearing, maybe a few court officials and a handful of observers. Instead, he walked into what looked like a circus. Every seat was filled, cameras lined the walls, and the air buzzed with the kind of electric anticipation.At the plaintiff's table sat his three accusers: Damon Pearce, Chris Welling, and Tyler Morgan. Their faces were unmarked, their clothes pressed and professional. They had transformed from street thugs into respectable citizens, complete with expensive suits and fake innocent expressions.Behind them, filling the first two rows, sat half the Medici family. Mei and Feng had their phones out, no doubt live streaming the proceedings to their millions of followers. Maxwell lounged in his seat with his trademark smirk, while Lizzy sat rigidly upright. Michael noticed that Octavian and Frank were absent, but Frank's butler sat in the back corner, his cold eyes tracking Michael's every movement.The pr
— 54 —
Michael was hunched over his laptop, scrolling through yet another dead end in his research about the Korvich Advancement Initiative, when the first heavy knock echoed through his apartment. "Michael Sullivan?" A voice boomed through the thin door. "Open up. We have a warrant for your arrest."Michael's blood ran cold. He glanced at Ava, who was sitting motionless in the corner chair, still in her extended recharge cycle. Her eyes were closed, and the soft blue glow that usually emanated from her systems was barely visible. She looked so peaceful, but Michael knew she was anything but."Just a minute," Michael called out, his voice cracking slightly. He grabbed his phone and quickly typed a message to Alexis: "They're here. Being arrested now. Don't come to Denver – it's not safe."But before he could hit send, the door burst open and three men in dark suits pushed through. The first one was tall and lean with cold gray eyes, while the second was bigger with a permanent frown etched
— 53 —
The piercing sound of Michael's phone notification buttons jolted him awake at 6:47 AM. He'd been dreaming about his mother again, about the photograph with Dr. Korvich. And about questions that seemed to have no answers. The insistent pinging continued, and he fumbled for the device, squinting at the bright screen.Ten missed calls from Zara Khadim. About a dozen text messages from numbers he didn't recognize. And a news alert that made his blood run cold."BREAKING: Arrest Warrant Issued for Michael Sullivan in Connection with Assault Charges.""Ava," Michael called out, "Ava, get in here."She appeared in the doorway almost instantly. "I've been tracking the news feeds," she said, her voice tight with concern. "It's bad, Michael. Really bad."Michael swung his legs out of bed, his heart pounding as he scrolled through the news articles flooding his phone. "Three former classmates come forward with assault allegations," he read aloud. "Damon Pearce, Chris Welling, and Tyler Morgan
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