Kian arrives unannounced at the Vale estate.
No guards stop him. That's how he knows Henry's waiting.
In the grand hall, Henry stands flanked by advisors and two silent bodyguards. The air is sharp with tension.
Kian walks in and tosses a flash drive onto the marble table.
"Your accounts. Offshore. Illegal. Frozen.
Everything you buried under false names? Dug up and cleaned out."
A beat.
Whispers ripple through the room.
Henry doesn't move. His expression is unreadable.
"You'd steal from your own blood?" he says coldly.
Kian meets his eyes…steady, lethal.
"You gave me your name. Not your love. I'm not stealing.
I'm reclaiming what never should've been yours."
A pause. Then Kian turns to leave.
But Henry's voice cuts through ..
"You think this makes you strong?
That girl you're so desperate to protect….Lianna?
She's scared of you now. She doesn't trust you. She never will."
Kian pauses, his back still turned.
"Then maybe I finally understand her.
Fear's the only thing you ever taught me."
And with that, he walks out…..without flinching.
As Kian exits, Cassandra enters….heels clicking on the polished floor.
Henry looks up, weary but vicious.
"He doesn't believe you."
Cassandra doesn't blink. Her smile is like ice.
"Then we'll make him believe."
She sets the forged ultrasound down on his desk. Carefully. Just like a weapon.
"You wanted a legacy, Henry?
Let's bury him in it."
—
Juno arrives at Lianna's penthouse just after midnight, her coat still damp from rain, her expression unreadable.
She places a sealed file on the table.
"Vaulted records. Buried deep in Vale's legal archive. No digital trace.
Only reason I got them? Cassandra once lived in the estate.
She had access…..and she used it."
Lianna opens the folder with steady hands.
Inside: a faded nondisclosure agreement.
Two signatures.
One: Kian's mother.
The other: a name that makes her blood run cold.
Cassandra.
Not just a fiancée.
Not just a well-positioned socialite.
She was there.
The teenage assistant to Henry Vale's mistress.
Groomed in silence.
She watched. She listened. She learned.
And now…..she's rewriting her role in the dynasty.
Lianna stares at the document in disbelief.
"She's not carrying the next heir," Juno says softly.
"She's carrying a vendetta.
And she's been planning it longer than we thought."
At Cassandra's luxury apartment, warm jazz plays in the background.
She stands before a full-length mirror in lingerie….stroking her stomach.
No baby bump.
Just a high-end prosthetic.
She peels it off slowly, revealing smooth, flat skin.
Then turns to the nightstand.
An ultrasound image lies neatly beside an open file.
Stolen. From someone else's chart.
Cassandra lifts it carefully, her lips curving into a smile.
"He doesn't believe me yet.
But soon… he won't remember what the truth even was."
—
Rain taps against the windows of Juno's townhouse office.
It's past midnight. She's alone. Coffee cold. Case files scattered ..
Then….her encrypted line buzzes.
"Juno Thorne?"
"You didn't hear this from me. But… a ghost just landed in Mexico City. Name on the manifest, James Elro Vale."
Her spine stiffens.
She types furiously, pulling archived data, manifest aliases, flagged passports.
One name glows red on her screen,
James Elro Vale – declared dead.
Boating accident. No body.
Firstborn son of Henry Vale.
Older brother to Kian Vale.
Codename: The Jackal.
Her lips part slightly. Voice low.
"If he's back…
He's not here to play nice."
Cut to,
Mexico City.
A rooftop terrace overlooking the skyline. Orange lights flicker in the distance.
A man in a black leather coat stands at the edge….back turned. His face hidden in darkness.
He lights a cigarette with one hand. In the other, a vintage lighter engraved with the Vale crest… and a diagonal scratch slicing through it.
"They buried me alive," he mutters.
Smoke curls from his mouth.
"Let's return the favor."
He flicks the lighter shut with a click.
The camera pans wide:
In the distance….Vale Corp's regional tower glows in the dark.
Target acquired.
—-
Kian storms into Cassandra's penthouse without knocking.
She doesn't flinch. She's waiting.
He tosses a small object onto the table….a prosthetic belly pad. Right next to a stolen ultrasound file Juno's team traced back to a fertility clinic in Gangnam.
"I know," he says coldly.
"About the prosthetic. The scan. The lie."
Cassandra doesn't deny it.
She crosses her legs. Calm. Composed. Dangerous.
"You always underestimate me, Kian."
"But Henry never did. He knew I could end you."
She rises slowly, walking toward him in shimmering heels.
A moment flickers….something soft in her eyes. Regret? Longing? Memory?
She twirls a strand of hair absently, voice low,
"I loved you. You know that, right?
But love isn't enough in a world that feeds on power."
She leans close, her perfume sharp, intoxicating. Then she drops the final blow,
"You think Lianna's your only threat?"
"James is alive."
"And I'm helping him take the empire."
Cut to,
A dark room. Dozens of screens glow in silence.
James Vale….alive, lean, older, colder….watches the confrontation through a hacked security feed.
He leans forward slightly. Says nothing.
But his eyes burn.
Calculating.
Hungry.
Ready.
He taps the screen gently….right over Kian's face.
"It begins."
—
In the dim quiet of Juno's office, a courier arrives with no return address.
Inside, a weathered document bound in crimson thread.
A secret will.
Dated before Kian's birth.
"This… this names James as sole heir," Juno whispers.
"The entire Vale estate. The holdings. The power. All of it was meant to be his."
Lianna stares at the paper.
"So Henry lied. James wasn't erased by accident. He was replaced."
The location of the will's original vault?
Jeju Island.
Hidden under Henry's private alias, buried in an estate no one talks about.
Lianna turns to Kian, quiet and cold.
"We have to get there before he does."
Kian nods….but when he reaches for her hand, she pulls it away.
Her fingers tremble. Her heart doesn't know who to trust.
They drive through wind and fog, tension silent between them.
Kian watches her from the passenger seat, unreadable.
Lianna grips the wheel tighter, refusing to glance his way.
When they arrive—
The villa is empty.
The vault? Broken open.
And on the wall, scratched deep into the wood with something sharp, something personal—
"FIRSTBORN. LAST BREATH."
Outside, headlights appear through the mist.
Another car pulls up behind them.
Slow. Controlled. Watching.
But no one gets out.
Kian reaches for the glovebox, jaw tight.
Lianna's phone buzzes in her coat pocket.
A message.
From an unknown number.
"You're already too late. The empire dies with you."