Chapter 4: The First Move
The countryside was silent.
Wind brushed the tall grass outside the old farmhouse, and birds chirped softly in the distance. It should have felt peaceful.
It didn't.
Elara stood on the porch, arms folded tightly, eyes scanning the road. She hadn't slept. The sun had barely risen, but her mind was already racing.
The door creaked behind her.
"Up already?" a soft voice asked.
Elara turned to see Aunt Marianne, her gray hair pulled into a loose braid, a steaming mug in hand. "I made coffee."
"Thanks," Elara said, accepting it with a small smile.
Aunt Marianne studied her. "You always did carry the weight of the world on those little shoulders."
"I dropped that weight once. It came back tenfold."
Marianne didn't press. She didn't have to. She tilted her head toward the window. "Leo's still asleep."
Elara's heart softened. "I want to keep it that way. For now."
"Will you tell him today?"
Elara exhaled. "I have to. His world's about to change, whether I want it to or not."
Later that morning, Leo ran through the garden, arms outstretched, pretending to fly. His dark curls bounced with each laugh.
Aaron watched from the edge of the porch, leaning on the railing, a strange expression on his face.
Elara walked up beside him.
"He looks like you."
Aaron didn't speak at first. Then—"He's perfect."
"He's also smart. Stubborn. Doesn't eat vegetables. Thinks dinosaurs are still alive."
Aaron chuckled. "Definitely mine."
There was silence between them again—but it wasn't empty. It was thick with everything they couldn't say in front of a child.
Then Elara whispered, "Do you want to meet him?"
Aaron looked at her, eyes glinting with something between hope and grief. "More than anything."
The introduction was awkward. Gentle. Emotional.
Leo tilted his head at the tall stranger with the kind smile and rough voice.
"Hi," Aaron said, crouching to eye-level. "I'm a friend of your mom's."
Leo narrowed his eyes. "Are you her bodyguard?"
Aaron laughed. "Something like that."
"Do you fight bad guys?"
Elara's eyes widened. "Leo—"
"It's okay," Aaron said, smiling. "Yeah. Sometimes I do."
"Cool." Leo stepped closer. "Can you teach me?"
Aaron's voice caught. "One day… if your mom says yes."
Leo gave a serious nod. "Okay."
Then he turned and ran back into the yard like nothing had happened.
Aaron stood up slowly. "He's… incredible."
Elara swallowed hard. "I know."
Then her voice dropped. "Which is why I need your help."
That night, in the farmhouse's dusty study, Elara laid out a folder on the old wooden desk. Her hands trembled.
"I kept it all," she said. "Records. Emails. Files. Hidden contracts."
Aaron flipped through the pages—bank transfers, names, signatures.
"What is this?"
"The Roths. Every illegal transaction I found when they thought I wasn't paying attention."
He whistled low. "You've been busy."
"I wasn't just playing bride. I was studying the enemy."
Aaron looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time again. "You planned this."
"I had to. Callan isn't just a billionaire. He's part of a legacy that destroys anything that defies it. I couldn't run forever."
"So, what's your plan?"
Elara looked up, fire burning behind her tired eyes.
"I'm going to burn the Roth name to the ground. Brick by brick."
Aaron closed the folder, set it aside, and nodded once.
"Then let's start with the foundation."