Chapter 16: Unexpected Ally
1495words
Today's message read: *The midnight blue silk has been delayed. Supplier suggests alternative source in Como.*
Translation: Cassian would be at Lake Como tonight. Could I meet him?
I texted back: *Midnight blue essential for current design. Will source personally tomorrow.*
My apartment felt emptier than usual as I prepared for bed. Tomorrow I would see Cassian briefly, secretly—like illicit lovers rather than an engaged couple. The irony wasn't lost on me; we'd gone public only to be forced back into hiding.
My phone buzzed with news alerts—another article about the Whitestone financial investigation. The business world was in upheaval as details emerged about my father's elaborate money laundering operation. Yet Victoria and my father remained untouchable, protected by expensive lawyers and decades of carefully cultivated connections.
Sleep eluded me. I was sketching design ideas at my dining table when a knock came at my door—three quick raps, then two slow ones.
Cassian's pattern.
Heart racing, I rushed to open it, only to freeze when I saw who stood in my hallway.
"Orion."
He looked terrible—unshaven, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot. Nothing like the polished, arrogant man I'd known.
"May I come in?" His voice was rough, as if he hadn't used it in days.
Every instinct warned against it, but curiosity won out. I stepped aside, allowing him into my apartment but keeping the door open.
"If you're here on behalf of my father—"
"I'm not." He moved to my window, staring out at the Milan skyline. "Isolde ended our engagement yesterday."
The news surprised me, though perhaps it shouldn't have. "I'm sorry."
He laughed bitterly. "Are you? After what I did to you?"
"I've moved beyond that."
"Have you?" He turned to face me. "Because I haven't. I can't stop thinking about it—the bet, the humiliation, all of it. It was cruel. Unconscionable."
His unexpected contrition left me speechless.
"Victoria orchestrated it," he continued. "Did you know that? She approached me at a charity gala, mentioned you were developing an 'unhealthy infatuation' with me. Suggested I 'let you down gently' by showing interest, then revealing it was Isolde I truly wanted."
"And you agreed." My voice was flat.
"I did." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "God help me, I thought it was amusing. A game."
"Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I've been blind." His eyes met mine, filled with genuine remorse. "Blind to Victoria's manipulation, to my own cruelty, to what was happening right in front of me."
I crossed my arms, protective. "And what exactly was happening?"
"Victoria has been controlling everyone—my uncle, your father, Isolde, me. She's been the spider at the center of the web all along." He reached into his jacket, removing a flash drive. "This is why I'm here."
"What is it?"
"Evidence." He placed it on my dining table. "About your mother's death."
My heart stuttered. "What kind of evidence?"
"Emails between Victoria and a mechanic. Bank transfers. The mechanic died in an apparent suicide three weeks after your mother's accident."
I stared at the flash drive, afraid to hope. "How did you get this?"
"I've been staying at my uncle's villa on Lake Como. I found his private safe open—he must have been in a hurry and forgotten to lock it. These files were inside."
"Cassian had this evidence?" The implication sent ice through my veins. "All this time?"
"No." Orion shook his head. "The timestamps show he received them two days ago. From someone named Jensen."
"His private investigator," I murmured, relief washing through me. Cassian hadn't been keeping secrets—he'd been working to clear our path.
"There's more." Orion hesitated. "Victoria came to see me yesterday. After Isolde left. She wanted me to release documents implicating Uncle Cassian in financial fraud."
"Forgeries," I said.
"Yes, though I didn't know that then. She said it would 'solve everyone's problems'—ruin Cassian's reputation, force you back to London, salvage the Whitestone-Vexley business connections." His expression darkened. "When I refused, she threatened to reveal certain... indiscretions from my past."
"Blackmail. Her specialty."
"Indeed." He moved toward the door. "I should go. I've said what I came to say."
"Why help us now?" I asked. "After everything?"
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Because I saw you and my uncle together at your fashion show. What you have—it's real. It made me realize how hollow my life has been." A sad smile touched his lips. "And because Isolde loved you enough to choose you over her mother. That kind of loyalty... I've never inspired that in anyone."
After he left, I stared at the flash drive, my mind racing. This could be the evidence we needed to bring Victoria down, to clear Cassian's name, to finally get justice for my mother.
I reached for my phone to text Marco our coded message, then stopped. This couldn't wait until tomorrow. I needed to see Cassian now.
The drive to Lake Como took just over an hour, each minute stretching like an eternity. The villa was dark when I arrived, save for a single light in the study. I used my key—the one Cassian had given me months ago, the one I couldn't bring myself to remove from my keychain despite our "breakup."
He was at his desk, surrounded by papers, his reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked up as I entered, surprise giving way to joy, then concern.
"Seraphina? What's happened?"
I placed the flash drive on his desk. "Orion brought me this. He said you received it two days ago."
Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Jensen found the mechanic's records. I was going to bring them tomorrow."
"Why didn't you tell me immediately?"
"I needed to verify their authenticity first." He stood, moving around the desk to take my hands. "I wouldn't give you false hope."
The touch of his skin against mine after a week apart sent electricity through my body. "Is it real? Is it enough?"
"It's real." His fingers tightened around mine. "Combined with your mother's recordings and the financial documents, it creates a compelling case. Victoria arranged your mother's accident. Your father may not have known the details, but he benefited from her death and helped cover it up afterward."
"So it's over?" I hardly dared believe it. "We can be together openly again?"
A shadow crossed his face. "Not quite yet. The forged documents Victoria created still exist. If cornered, she'll release them."
"Orion said she asked him to do it. He refused."
Surprise flickered in Cassian's eyes. "That's... unexpected."
"He's changed." I stepped closer, unable to maintain distance any longer. "Isolde ended their engagement."
"I heard." His hand moved to my face, cupping my cheek with such tenderness I nearly wept. "The media is having a field day with that story. It's diverted attention from us, at least temporarily."
"I've missed you," I whispered, leaning into his touch. "Every hour, every minute."
"And I you." His voice roughened. "This separation—even knowing it's temporary—has been torture."
When his lips finally met mine, it felt like coming home after a long exile. The kiss deepened quickly, a week of longing pouring out in desperate touches and whispered endearments. We made our way upstairs, shedding clothes and restraint with equal abandon.
Later, tangled in sheets and moonlight, I traced the familiar contours of his face. "What happens now?"
"Now we move carefully." He kissed my fingertips. "I have a meeting with the investigators tomorrow. I'll provide Jensen's evidence anonymously, protecting Orion's involvement for now."
"And us? Our engagement?"
"A few more days of public separation." His eyes held mine, filled with promise. "Then, when Victoria and your father are formally charged, we announce that the circumstances keeping us apart have been resolved."
I nestled closer, my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Do you think they'll actually face justice? After all this time?"
"I do." His arms tightened around me. "Your mother will have her justice. And we'll have our future."
As dawn broke over Lake Como, I reluctantly prepared to leave. We couldn't risk being seen together, not yet. At the door, Cassian pulled me into one last embrace.
"Three more days," he murmured against my hair. "Then no more hiding."
"Three days," I agreed, memorizing the feel of him, the scent of him, to sustain me through our final separation.
As I drove back to Milan, my phone buzzed with breaking news: "FASHION WORLD SHOCKED AS ISOLDE WHITESTONE CANCELS WEDDING, CITES 'IRRECONCILABLE FAMILY DIFFERENCES'"
The distraction was perfectly timed. While the media focused on Isolde's dramatic exit from her engagement, we would quietly set the final pieces of our plan in motion.
Victoria's web was unraveling, one strand at a time.
