Chapter 2
By the time I got home, it was already ten o'clock at night.
The living room was brightly lit, the dining table covered with all my favorite dishes.
My father and Daniel had just come from a wedding, yet there wasn't a single trace of it on them. One was wearing an apron, ladling soup in the kitchen. The other bent down to hand me my slippers. Their coordination was seamless.
"Why so late?"
Daniel touched my face, his brow creasing immediately.
"Your hands are freezing. Didn't the driver turn on the heat?"
I looked at the faint band of pale skin on his ring finger.
A few hours ago, that finger had still worn a wedding ring matching Vivian's.
"The hospital added some extra tests at the last minute."
I changed my shoes without missing a beat.
My father came out carrying a bowl of soup, his tone full of apology.
"It's my fault — I kept Daniel at the meeting too long. Tomorrow we'll both go with you."
I smiled, eyes lowered.
"No need. The doctor said the baby is fine."
Daniel visibly relaxed.
He helped me sit down, then instinctively grabbed a cushion to place behind my lower back.
If I hadn't seen that wedding with my own eyes, even I would have believed he truly loved me.
During dinner, I handed him the documents I had prepared in advance.
"The baby's education trust fund — I need your signature."
Daniel was busy picking fish bones off my plate. He only glanced at the cover page.
"Whatever you decide is fine."
He flipped straight to the last page and signed.
My father sighed theatrically. "Once a daughter has a husband, everything goes through the husband. Forgot all about dear old Dad."
Daniel laughed, pushing the documents back toward me.
"What's mine is Elena's. No need to draw such clear lines."
I tucked the documents away and replied softly, "You're right. It really is time to draw clear lines."
"What?"
"I said the fish tastes a bit off."
Daniel immediately set down his chopsticks. "Then don't eat it. I'll have the kitchen make something else."
I looked at the still-drying signature on the page, and the last trace of hesitation inside me disappeared.
What he had signed was not an education trust agreement.
It was three separate statements.
An acknowledgment that we had never been legally married.
A waiver of all custodial and financial claims to the child.
A confirmation that every commercial document he had previously signed on my behalf had been done without my authorization.
Daniel was so certain I could never leave him.
So as long as the documents came from my own hands, he didn't even bother to read them.
After dinner, both their phones buzzed at the same time.
My father glanced at his screen and stood up immediately.
"Something urgent at the company. Daniel and I need to take a meeting in the study."
Daniel leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"If you're tired, go to bed. Don't wait up."
They headed upstairs one after the other, never suspecting that their so-called meeting was already being transmitted through a recording device Joanna had placed in the study — straight into my earpiece.
"The authorization has been submitted. Why hasn't it cleared yet?"
My father's voice was low.
Daniel answered, "Elena's biometric access hasn't been fully revoked. Tomorrow, have the family doctor issue a prenatal psychiatric diagnosis. You can take over the accounts as her legal guardian."
"Will she catch on?"
"No."
Daniel's voice was utterly certain.
"She asked me today when I was coming home. A couple of sweet words and she believes anything."
I turned off the recording, picked up the bag I had already packed, and slipped out through the side door.
The old garment factory in the South District had been abandoned for years.
This was where my mother had founded Étoile. After her death, my father dismissed the place as run-down, relocated all the workers, and left nothing behind but dust-covered photographs on the walls.
When I pushed open the rusted iron gate, Lucas Stone was standing by the cutting table my mother once used.
Black overcoat. Sharp, cold features.
On the table lay over a dozen neatly arranged document folders.
"Seven minutes late."
That was the first thing he said to me.
"You invite a pregnant woman to an abandoned factory in the middle of the night, Mr. Stone, and you expect punctuality?"
He glanced at my belly and pulled out the chair behind him.
"Still sharp enough for sarcasm. Guess the video didn't break you."
I didn't sit.
"Did you send the video?"
"No."
Lucas opened the top folder.
Inside were the Harper Group's financial records from the past six months. Dozens of transactions, routed through different shell companies, all funneling into offshore accounts controlled by Monica.
"I only sent you the authorization and the transaction details. The wedding video came from someone else."
"Who?"
"Prove you still deserve to sit at this table, and I'll tell you."
I scoffed. "Lucas Stone — you brought me here just to humiliate me?"
"I brought you here to find out whether you intend to take back the Harper Group, or whether you're only interested in getting revenge on a cheating man."
He lifted his gaze to meet mine.
"If it's the latter, you can leave now."
The factory was silent except for the wind rattling an old window.
I placed the three signed statements from Daniel on the table in front of him.
"Qualified enough for you?"
Lucas read through each page. Something shifted in the depths of his eyes.
"When did you find out?"
"This afternoon."
"In the space of a few hours, you got him to personally admit to a fake marriage, relinquish all rights to the child, and sever the legal basis for every document he forged in your name."
He slid the papers back into their folder.
"Elena Harper. You're more clear-headed than I expected."
I pulled out the chair and sat down.
"Name your terms."
Lucas unfolded an asset map.
The Harper Group's trademarks, factories, supply chains, and design copyrights had been broken into over a dozen pieces, all being systematically transferred into shell companies controlled by Daniel.
"In seventy-two hours, the deal closes. Your father takes the money and leaves the country. Daniel gets the Harper Group. Vivian steps in as the founder's heir and takes over the brand."
"What makes them think I won't fight back?"
"Because you haven't attended a single board meeting in ten months. Your most trusted assistant filed all the authorization documents. Everyone inside the company believes it was your decision."
My gaze stopped on the last line — the name of the person who had processed every document.
Joanna.
She had been with me for five years.
My mother's design archives, electronic seals, and private accounts — all entrusted to her care.
Lucas pushed another document toward me.
"Do you believe it now? The people who stole your life aren't just your father, your husband, and your sister."
I pressed my fingertip against Joanna's name.
"How do you plan to help me?"
"Block the transaction. Acquire the debt they've pledged as collateral. Put the board back in your hands."
"And the price?"
Lucas leaned forward slightly.
"You go back to the Harper Group yourself."
"Not as Daniel Collins's wife. Not as Richard Harper's daughter."
"As the true heir of the Harper Group — in a full partnership with me."
I looked at his outstretched hand but didn't take it right away.
"We're not friends."
"Exactly why I'd never deceive you with feelings."
In the distance, the clock tower struck twelve.
I finally took his hand.
"Pleasure doing business."
But Lucas didn't let go.
"One more thing."
"Your father has already paid off a doctor to certify that you're mentally unfit to manage your own assets."
"Which means from this point forward, what they're trying to take isn't just the Harper Group."
His gaze dropped to my belly, and his voice went low.
"It's you and the baby's lives."
