The Vaughn estate still gleamed like a crown.
Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Gardens trimmed to perfection.
But Alessia Grey knew better.
Every crown hid rust beneath the gold.
She sat in a private suite across from her lawyer, an encrypted file open on the tablet between them. Her eyes didn't blink. Her fingers traced every line of the document labeled:
"ElizabethVaughn – Offshore Accounts, Hidden Trusts, Internal Transfers."
Every number was a knife.
Every transaction… a betrayal.
Elizabeth Vaughn—the beloved stepmother who kissed Serena's forehead in public, then carved her future apart behind closed doors had siphoned millions out of Serena's inheritance by the time she turned twenty-one.
All in the name of "restructuring."
And Serena had let her.
Too grief-stricken. Too naive.
Too trusting.
Now?
Alessia wasn't Serena anymore.
She leaned back, a smile brushing her lips. "Poetic… blood money in blood banks."
Her lawyer shut the file. "The trusts are vulnerable now. All we needed was proof. You just handed the Commission the key."
"And they'll kick down the door by morning," Alessia replied, rising from her chair.
At the Vaughn Estate…
Elizabeth adjusted her pearl necklace in the mirror, admiring the way the light danced off it.
Power looked good on her.
Until the knock on the study door came fast, hard, and frantic.
"Ma'am," her assistant gasped, stepping in. "There's an inquiry from the Federal Financial Commission."
Elizabeth blinked. "What kind of inquiry?"
"They're investigating your trust in Zurich. They say it's linked to embezzled shares."
Silence.
"They've… frozen the account."
Elizabeth's hands dropped to her sides.
She hadn't heard the whole sentence. She didn't need to.
Just one word clanged in her ears like a bell tolling death.
Frozen.
Alessia watched the news roll across the ticker from her penthouse window.
"Vaughn Estate Under Scrutiny For Suspicious Financial Transfers ."
She didn't smile. Not this time.
This one wasn't satisfying.
It was personal.
The woman who let her suffer. Who let her beg.
Who watched her fall and smiled while doing it.
Elizabeth Vaughn wasn't just a thief.
She was a witness.
And she had let Serena die in silence.
But Alessia?
She was done being quiet.
Elsewhere
Ethan flipped through the latest PI report with growing frustration.
Nothing made sense.
No school records. No family history. No early financials.
Alessia Grey didn't exist before three years ago.
And yet she stood like a monument—wealthy, poised, untouchable.
He stared at her photo again.
Then turned back to Serena's.
And whispered the words he hadn't dared until now.
"…Is it you?"
That night, Alessia sealed a single envelope with red wax.
Inside: a handwritten note in Serena's script.
"From ashes, you built a life off mine.
Now it's your turn to watch it burn."
She handed it to her private courier, lips calm. "Deliver it before dawn. Make sure it reaches her directly."
"Who should I say it's from?"
She met his eyes, her voice razor-sharp.
"No one. She'll know."