Chapter 2
The limousine cut through the freezing New York rain like a sleek black knife, carrying Sarah away from everything she had spent a decade building. Sitting opposite her, wrapped in Sarah’s $4,000 cashmere coat, Elena clutched little Leo. The boy was asleep, his dirty fingers still curled around the gold charm bracelet.
"You're supposed to be dead, El," Sarah whispered, the sound barely audible over the hum of the engine. "I saw the house burn. The police found remains."
Elena let out a hollow, bitter laugh that sent a chill down Sarah’s spine. "They found what he paid them to find, Sarah. The fire wasn't an accident. And it wasn't a tragedy. It was an execution."
Sarah’s blood ran cold. "Who?"
Elena looked up, her eyes hollowed out by ten years of paranoia and poverty. "Your husband. Richard."
The name struck Sarah like a physical blow. Richard—the billionaire real estate mogul who had saved her from her grief, who had swept her into high society, who kissed her forehead every morning.
"No," Sarah stammered. "Richard didn't even know us then."
"He knew our father," Elena snapped, her voice suddenly fierce. "He knew about the patents Dad refused to sell. The gold medallions weren't just jewelry, Sarah. They’re the keys to the offshore vault holding the original blueprints. Richard burned our family alive to steal the empire he has today. I barely escaped with Leo in my womb. I’ve been running ever since."
Sarah’s phone began to vibrate violently in her purse. The caller ID flashed: Richard - Husband. The high-society illusion shattered completely. She wasn't a queen; she was a prisoner sleeping next to a monster.
May you like
"He's tracking my phone," Sarah realized, panic rising in her throat. She rolled down the privacy glass. "Driver! Stop the car! We need to get out now!"
But the driver didn't slow down. Instead, the doors locked with a heavy, mechanical thud. The driver turned around, a cold smile on his face. "Mr. Sterling sends his regards, ma'am. He's very eager for a family reunion."
