Chapter 1 - THE BLOODLINE'S CURSE
The silence near the back entrance of the Grand Bellevue Estate was suffocating. The cold wind whipped past the velvet curtains, carrying the scent of expensive champagne and fresh rain.
The woman in the gold dress, Victoria Vance, stared down at the faded, creased photograph in her tremble-wracked hand. The image was undeniable: a younger version of herself, barely twenty years old, sitting on a sunlit hospital bed and cradling a newborn wrapped in a blue blanket. On the back, written in smudged black ink, were six words that shattered her reality: “If I fall, find Victoria Vance.”
“My mother gave it to me,” the boy whispered. His voice was raw, cracked from cold and days of silent crying. He clutched the dirty bread to his chest like a shield. “She said... she said you were the only one who could save me from the fire.”
Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart slammed against her ribs with violent force. The fire.
Seven years ago, her twin sister, Eleanor, had vanished without a trace after a mysterious explosion destroyed their family’s secluded countryside estate. Everyone assumed Eleanor died in the flames. Victoria had spent the last seven years mourning her—and building a massive corporate empire alongside her powerful fiancé, Julian Sterling, the man currently waiting for her inside the grand ballroom.
“What is your name, sweet boy?” Victoria knelt directly on the wet pavement, ignoring the mud ruining her ten-thousand-dollar designer gown.
“Leo,” the boy stammered, flinching as the waiter who had slapped the bread took a step forward.
“Get away from him!” Victoria snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a razor. The waiter froze, turning pale. Victoria reached out, her fingers gently touching Leo’s cheek, wiping away dirt to reveal sharp, familiar features. He had Eleanor’s piercing green eyes.
Before Leo could say another word, the heavy mahogany doors swung open. Julian Sterling stepped out, looking immaculate in his tailored tuxedo.
“Victoria, darling, everyone is waiting for the toast—” Julian cut himself off, his eyes locking onto the filthy boy on the ground and then drifting to the photograph in Victoria’s hand. For a split second, a flash of pure terror crossed Julian’s face before he masked it with a polite smile.
“Who is this beggar, Victoria? Why are you kneeling in the dirt?” Julian asked smoothly, stepping forward to take her arm.
“Look at this photo, Julian,” Victoria said, her voice shaking with rage and confusion. “Look at it!”
Julian glanced at the picture, his expression instantly hardening. “Where did you get this? Victoria, this is a dangerous trick. Eleanor died seven years ago. Someone is using a street child to pull a scam on our wedding night!”
“No!” Leo cried out, shrinking back against the brick wall. “My mother isn't a scammer! She told me the man with the silver ring burned our house! The man who looks like him!”
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Leo’s small, dirt-caked finger pointed straight at Julian.
Victoria looked down at Julian’s right hand. A heavy, bespoke silver signet ring caught the dim light. Her blood ran ice-cold.
