Elena's heels clicked softly on the marble floor of the Moreau estate as she made her way toward the study. The house was unusually quiet. A silence not born out of peace, but one that felt calculated—like the lull before a storm.
She paused outside the study's door, her fingers hovering just above the handle.
Inside, she could already hear Lucas's voice—low, tense.
"I don't care if the shares drop temporarily," he said to someone on the phone. "Make the board believe it's a tactical move. Delay the press release. No one needs to know Adrien's name yet."
Elena's heart skipped. Adrien. Again.
She pushed the door open.
Lucas looked up, startled. For a second, his mask of control cracked. But it was gone in an instant.
"Elena." His tone was neutral, guarded. "Eavesdropping now?"
"No," she replied calmly, stepping in and closing the door behind her. "I just walked in. Maybe you should check your secrets before assuming the house is soundproof."
His jaw twitched. He set down his phone, clasping his hands on the desk. "What do you want?"
She walked over slowly, the air between them growing heavier with each step. "Truth."
Lucas leaned back in his chair, eyes locked on her. "Is that what this is about again?"
"You said Adrien was dead. But he isn't. You faked everything."
"Elena," he said slowly, "what if I told you it was all for your protection?"
She laughed—sharp and humorless. "Is that the new narrative? Protect me by lying, forging contracts, and pretending your brother is dead?"
Lucas stood, voice rising. "You don't understand what Adrien was involved in. He was reckless—he made enemies that wouldn't stop until everyone close to him was ruined. Including you."
She narrowed her eyes. "So you buried him alive instead? Signed him out of existence?"
"He agreed to it," Lucas snapped. "He knew what he was doing."
Elena felt the sting behind her eyes. "And the contract?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately. He walked toward the fireplace, staring into the unlit hearth as if he could burn away the guilt.
"You never read the fine print, did you?" he asked finally.
"I did," she said. "Eventually. You made sure I wouldn't find it until it was too late. You tied me to this family, to the estate, and to you—for ten years."
"And Adrien wrote the terms," Lucas said quietly. "He needed someone to hold the empire while he disappeared. Someone who could keep the wolves at bay."
She blinked. "He wrote it?"
Lucas nodded. "His last wish before… vanishing."
"I don't believe you." Her voice cracked. "You always controlled the narrative."
Lucas turned. "Then go to the cellar."
She froze. "What?"
"There's a key behind the third book in the law section of the library," Lucas said. "It opens the vault beneath the wine cellar. Adrien left a box there. For you. He told me to give it to you only when you were ready to see the whole truth."
She stared at him, breath shallow. "Why now?"
"Because you're already halfway to burning down everything. You may as well know who lit the first match."
The hidden vault was exactly where he'd said. Elena descended into the cellar, the musty scent of old wood and stone swirling around her. She found the metallic door behind a sliding shelf, heart pounding as the lock clicked open.
Inside was a single box. Oak. Sealed with Adrien's initials.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
Inside were several files, an old flash drive, and a letter.
"Elena," the letter began, written in Adrien's distinct, slanted hand. "If you're reading this, then Lucas kept his word."
Tears pricked at her eyes as she continued.
"I faked my death because I had no choice. The Moreau empire wasn't built cleanly, and someone had to pay for the sins. I chose myself. Lucas didn't agree. He wanted to fight, to expose everything. But if he had, you would've been the next target. So I made the contract. I gave you the company—not to trap you, but to protect you under the legal shield of the Moreau name."
Elena swallowed, her hands tightening on the pages.
"Lucas has done terrible things—but most of them for my sake. For yours. There's a man named Marcel Dervieux—he was my partner once. We built everything together. And then he betrayed us. He wanted the whole empire, and he knew the only way to get it was to make me disappear. Lucas made a deal to keep you safe—he let the world think I was dead, while he took the heat."
"But that deal is breaking now. Marcel is coming back. If he finds out you know the truth, he'll come for you too."
"I'm sorry. I should've told you everything earlier. But maybe you would've hated me more."
—A.M.
Elena sat in stunned silence. The box, the files—it all made sense. The drive contained recordings, correspondence between Adrien and Marcel, proof of betrayal, dates of money laundering.
Everything she needed to burn down the house of lies—or rebuild it.
The next morning, she called for Lucas.
He arrived promptly, calm as ever, but she could see the fatigue behind his eyes.
"I saw the letter," she said simply.
"And?"
"You lied about some things," she said. "But maybe not all of them."
Lucas didn't answer.
"I still don't trust you," she continued, "but I believe Adrien. And if what he says about Marcel is true, then we have a bigger problem than each other."
Lucas gave a half-smile. "Welcome to the family business."
She slid the flash drive across the table. "We need to go public before Marcel makes the first move."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "That would expose Adrien. He can't resurface yet."
"Then we release just enough," she said. "Enough to prove that the Moreaus were being targeted. Enough to put Marcel on defense. And enough to give me full control—without hiding in someone else's shadow."
He looked at her, really looked at her. "You've changed."
"No," she said. "I just finally see clearly."
Lucas nodded slowly. "We do it your way then.
Three days later, the first wave hit the press.
A carefully crafted statement revealed that the Moreau family had been victims of internal sabotage from a former associate—Marcel Dervieux. No names were confirmed publicly, but enough was said to shift the narrative. Stock prices wavered but did not fall.
Behind the scenes, Marcel made his move.
A threatening email arrived in Elena's inbox that night.
"You don't know what you're playing with, little girl. You'll regret digging up the dead."
Elena stared at the screen. Her blood chilled—but her hands didn't shake.
She clicked Reply.
"I'm not afraid of ghosts, Marcel. I bury them."
As thunder rumbled in the distance and another storm threatened to break over the Moreau estate, Elena stood at the top floor balcony, watching the lights flicker across the city.
She didn't know what the next chapter would bring. Whether Adrien would ever return. Whether Lucas would ever stop hiding behind control.
But she knew one thing.
She was no longer a pawn.
And the contract?
It no longer held two secrets.
It now held the power to unravel them all.