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The silence in the hallway stretched thin and dangerous, vibrating with the muffled bass of the wedding reception downstairs. My mother’s heels clicked against the vintage hardwood floor before I even saw her. Irene turned the corner with Uncle Robert and Uncle Thomas flanking her like a human wall of retribution. They were old-school, protective, and possessed zero tolerance for disrespect, especially toward their family. / Chapter 16 / 20

Chapter 16 - The Ashes of YesterdayMr. Miller looked down at the pocket watch, sighed deeply, and slipped it back into his battered briefcase.

"He knows he’s ruined, Ms. Sterling," the lawyer said quietly, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a shameful secret. "Inmate #84920 spends twelve hours a day staring at the concrete wall of his cell, muttering about how he had everything and threw it away for a ghost of a past with Savannah. She turned on him the moment the federal indictments dropped, testifying against him in exchange for a lighter sentence that she didn't even get."

"Greed always consumes its own host," I replied, my voice devoid of empathy, yet entirely at peace. "Tell him not to write to me again. Tell him to spend his remaining years learning the value of honesty."

The lawyer nodded grimly, turned on his heel, and walked out of the estate under the watchful eyes of our security detail.

I walked back up to my study, stepping out onto the private balcony. The night air was fragrant with blooming jasmine. I touched the crystal pendant resting against my collarbone—cool, flawless, and brilliant.

The nightmare was officially over. There were no ghosts left in the hallways, no hidden cameras in the molding, and no doubts in my mind.

My mother stepped onto the balcony, handing me a fresh glass of sparkling water.

"Was that his lawyer?" Irene asked, her eyes sharp and perceptive.

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The notification light on my phone blinked a furious, rhythmic amber. Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six missed calls. Ryan’s texts were no longer polite; they were mutating into panicked, all-caps demands. “Mom is crying hysterically. The bank is threatening default. What kind of monster cuts off a widow? PICK UP THE PHONE.”

The notification light on my phone blinked a furious, rhythmic amber. Tw...

"Yes," I answered, taking a sip as I looked out over the sprawling, illuminated lawns of our family estate. "He brought a pocket watch. I told him to keep it."

"Good," my mother smiled, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. "Some things are better left buried in the past."

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