OCTAVIA POV
I watch the news coverage of the warehouse shooting and smile.
Seraphine almost died tonight.
Almost.
"Octavia?" Lucasta's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Are you listening?"
I close my laptop. We're in the study—me, Lucasta, and Reginald. The parents who raised the wrong daughter for twenty-seven years.
"I'm listening," I say. "You want Seraphine gone."
"We need to be strategic," Reginald says, pouring whiskey. "She has legal protections now. Theron made sure of that."
"Then we remove those protections." I lean forward. "Every day she stays here is a day she steals MY life."
Lucasta nods. "We'll revoke her access to the estate. Cancel her credit cards—"
"Theron won't allow it," Reginald interrupts. "He's always been... protective of her."
Protective.
I laugh.
"Protective?" My lip curls. "Is that what we're calling it? I saw how he looked at her today. That's not brotherly love."
Silence falls.
Lucasta goes pale. "You think Theron has feelings for Seraphine?"
"I don't think. I KNOW." I show them photos on my phone. Theron touching Seraphine's face. Standing too close. His eyes following her like a predator.
"My God," Lucasta whispers.
"They were raised as siblings," Reginald mutters.
"But they're NOT siblings," I remind them. "The DNA proved that. Which means there's nothing stopping him." I pause. "And if the board found out about an inappropriate relationship..."
Reginald sets down his glass hard. "The scandal would destroy the company. They'd remove him immediately."
"Exactly." I smile. "Theron controls everything—including whether Seraphine stays or goes. But expose the relationship, and the board removes him. Then we remove HER without his protection."
"It's risky," Lucasta says, pacing. "Theron has allies."
"Not if we have proof." I pull out documents—private investigator reports. "He's been sabotaging Seraphine's relationships for years. I have testimonies from five men whose careers he ruined."
Lucasta reads them, her face growing disgusted.
"This is extensive."
"This is obsession," I correct. "And now that she's not legally his sister, he'll make his move. We just need to catch him doing it."
"How?" Reginald asks.
"Tomorrow night. Family dinner. I'll push his buttons until he reveals exactly how he feels. In front of everyone."
"And if he doesn't take the bait?"
"He will. Obsession makes people stupid." I've seen the hunger in his eyes. "We trigger it at the right moment, record it, present it to the board. He's removed by Friday."
Reginald nods slowly. "And Seraphine?"
"Will have no choice but to leave. Sign away her rights. Disappear." Back to poverty. Where I spent twenty-seven years while she lived in MY mansion.
"There's still Senator Harwick," Lucasta says quietly. "He knows about Seraphine now."
"He won't acknowledge her." I've handled this. "I contacted his campaign. Reminded them a bastard daughter would destroy his presidential run. They tried to have her killed tonight."
Both parents stare at me.
"You did WHAT?" Reginald's voice is sharp.
"I made sure the problem would be handled. Obviously it failed." I shrug. "But Harwick's people are sloppy. The police will trace it back to him. He'll be too busy defending himself to worry about Seraphine."
Lucasta looks at me like she's seeing me for the first time.
"You arranged a hit?"
"I pointed them in the right direction. What they did wasn't my responsibility."
"You could go to prison," Reginald says.
"Only if someone proves I was involved." I smile. "And who would do that? You? The parents who swapped babies to hide an affair?"
Silence.
They realize: I have leverage over them too.
"We're all guilty here," I say softly. "So let's work together. Remove Theron. Remove Seraphine. Give me what should have been mine."
Reginald and Lucasta exchange glances.
"Fine," Reginald says finally. "Tomorrow night. We expose Theron and end this."
Victory tastes sweet.
My phone buzzes. Unknown number:
"Octavia Lowe. We need to talk about your recent activities. Meet me at the Grandel Hotel. Tonight. Room 847. Come alone. — Senator K. Harwick"
My blood runs cold.
Harwick wants to meet. Tonight.
The man whose assassination attempt failed.
"What's wrong?" Lucasta notices my expression.
I show her the message.
"Don't go," Reginald says. "It's a trap."
"Or an opportunity. If I can convince him to work WITH us..."
"He tried to kill his own daughter," Lucasta says.
"I'm not his daughter. I'm useful." I grab my purse. "If I'm not back by midnight, worry."
I leave before they can stop me.
The Grandel Hotel is expensive. Where senators meet mistresses and CEOs make illegal deals.
I reach room 847.
The door is slightly open.
Warning bells ring in my head.
But I didn't survive poverty by being a coward.
I push the door open.
The room is dark except for one lamp.
A man sits in a chair. Silver hair. Expensive suit. Cold eyes.
Senator Kaelen Harwick.
"Miss Lowe," he says. "Sit."
I step inside.
The door closes behind me.
Not by itself.
I spin around.
Theron Aldric leans against the wall, arms crossed, expression deadly.
"Hello, Octavia," he says softly. "We've been waiting for you."
My heart stops.
"What is this?"
"A conversation about your future," Harwick says. "Or rather, your lack of one."
Theron moves toward me like a predator.
"You tried to have Seraphine killed. Contacted Harwick's people. Told them she was a threat."
"I don't know what—"
"Don't lie." He plays a recording.
My own voice fills the room:
"Senator Harwick has a bastard daughter. Her name is Seraphine. She could destroy your campaign. I have her location. I assume you'll want to handle this discreetly."
All blood drains from my face.
"How—"
"I have connections everywhere. Including inside Harwick's campaign." Theron steps closer. "They record everything."
Harwick stands. "You involved me in attempted murder. Created a liability that threatens my presidential run."
"I was helping you—"
"You were helping yourself." Theron's smile is cold. "And now you're going to disappear. Just like you wanted Seraphine to."
Terror floods me. "You can't—"
"Who will miss you, Octavia? The Aldrics who barely know you? Your mother who can't afford a lawyer?"
"Please. I'll leave. You'll never see me again—"
"Too late." Harwick pulls out papers. "Sign these. They state you attempted extortion using fraudulent DNA tests. That you're voluntarily checking into a psychiatric facility."
"The DNA tests are REAL—"
"Are they?" Theron shows another document. "Because this says the lab was shut down for falsifying results."
My world tilts.
"I didn't—"
"Prove it."
I can't. The lab's gone. The evidence erased.
"Sign," Harwick says, "or I press charges. Twenty years in prison."
Twenty years.
My hand shakes as I reach for the pen.
"One more thing," Theron says. "Write a public apology to Seraphine. Admit you lied about everything."
"No."
His hand wraps around my throat. Not squeezing. Just promising violence.
"Yes. Or I make sure you never threaten her again. Permanently."
I see my death in his eyes.
I sign with trembling hands.
"The facility expects you tonight," Harwick says. "Six months minimum. No visitors. No calls. No contact."
Two men in white coats enter. Orderlies.
They take my arms.
"Wait!" I struggle. "WAIT!"
They drag me toward the door.
My last view is Theron and Harwick shaking hands.
Erasing me like I never existed.
The door closes.
I scream.
But no one's listening.