EVAN MANSION – AFTERNOON
The sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors over the marble floors of the drawing room. But nothing softened the chill that hung between the couple seated at opposite ends of the long table.
Alina Evan held the letter like a blade.
Her manicured fingers tightened around the embossed De Salvo crest, her expression unreadable—except for the flicker of something dark behind her eyes.
"A marriage proposal," she said slowly, voice as sharp as cut glass. "From the De Salvos."
She looked up. Her husband stared at her in disbelief.
"For Bella."
Not Arina. Not their daughter.
Bella.
The afterthought. The ghost girl in the attic of their legacy. The quiet, obedient reminder of a woman Alina wished had stayed buried.
Alina's lips curled. Not in delight.
But in disdain.
"That can't be right," Mr. Evan muttered, reaching for the attached documents. "Lewis De Salvo is offering—"
"—A multimillion-dollar development contract," Alina finished coldly. "Under your name. If we accept the match."
Mr. Evan's hand shook slightly.
Alina rose to her feet, folding the letter with a snap. The tap of her heels against the floor echoed through the silent house.
"They're serious," she said, pacing. "They've already cleared the project through their board. All they want is a signature."
She paused at the window, watching Arina preen herself in the courtyard mirror—still unaware of the blow she'd just been dealt.
"They should have chosen her," Alina hissed. "She's the one who's been… close to the De Salvo heir."
Daniel.
Lewis's reckless, gilded nephew. All charm and no spine.
Arina had sunk her claws into him, drunk on his last name.
But the De Salvos weren't stupid.
Lewis's parents had investigated.
They'd seen through the gloss and ambition and chose the one girl no one expected to matter—
Bella.
Alina turned, her voice dipped in bitter honey. "Sign it."
Mr. Evan blinked. "You… agree?"
Alina smiled sweetly. Too sweet.
"Of course. This deal will save your company. As for Bella…" Her tone dropped, razor-thin. "We raised her, didn't we? This is just a return on investment."
What she didn't say, but thought with icy precision:
Bella holds the last of Marissa Morgan's secrets.
Property deeds. Sealed inheritances. Legal access codes buried under decades of silence.
All tied to her bloodline.
Let Lewis De Salvo take her.
Let the De Salvos think they'd won.
Because Alina would gain more than a contract.
She would gain the last missing piece of a dead woman's empire.
And Bella?
She was just a pawn.
For now.