The air inside Vander & Reed Bespoke Tailors turned instantly thin and electric.

Tyler sat alone in his private study on the penthouse level. The fire had burned down to glowing embers. On his desk lay Elena’s handwritten journal. He opened it to a page near the end, dated just two weeks before her fatal crash.

“Tyler is building an empire of glass and steel,” Elena’s neat cursive read. “He thinks safety is something you can buy with numbers on a spreadsheet. But he doesn't know my family. He doesn't know what my father did to keep us hidden. If anything ever happens to me, my sister Chloe will be left exposed. Promise me, whoever reads this, that you will protect her from the wolves in our own house.”

A soft knock sounded at the door.

Chloe stepped inside, wearing a borrowed silk robe, holding a cup of black coffee. She walked over and set it on the desk, her eyes lingering on the journal.

"You found it," she murmured.

"I found it," Tyler said, looking up at her. "Why didn't you come to me, Chloe? When Elena died... why didn't you just show up at my gate?"

Chloe let out a bitter, sorrowful laugh. "Show up at your gate? Tyler, to the rest of the world, you were the untouchable titan of Chicago. My sister always warned me about your circle. She said your family’s corporate enemies would use me as leverage to destroy you. And when she died... Marcus’s men intercepted me the day of the funeral. They threw a non-disclosure agreement in my face, threatened to take my newborn child away through CPS, and gave me five thousand dollars to disappear forever."

Tyler closed the journal, his jaw tightening until the bones ached. "I didn't know."

"I know you didn't," Chloe said softly. She reached out and touched his shoulder—a brief, grounding gesture. "You were too busy mourning an idealized ghost to look at the living world around you. But... your daughter didn't care about your wealth, your status, or your rules. She just saw a baby who was hungry."