The private sitting room on the second floor of the Harrington Main House was dimly lit, heavy velvet curtains drawn tight against the night. A single antique lamp cast a warm, golden glow across the polished mahogany table between the two women. The faint scent of Earl Grey lingered in the air, though both cups had long gone cold.
Eleanor Harrington sat gracefully in her high-backed armchair, legs crossed, one hand resting lightly on the armrest. Her tailored black silk blouse hugged her mature curves, and her rich brown hair was pulled into a sleek chignon. She sipped her drink slowly, her expression calm and unreadable as she studied the woman across from her.
Marianne Moreau had completely shattered.
She hunched forward on the sofa, elbows on her knees, face buried in her hands. Her luxurious white silk nightdress clung to her sweat-damp body, thin straps slipping off one shoulder. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with ragged sobs. Tears streamed down her cheeks, smearing the last traces of her makeup.
"Clara…" she whispered, voice cracking. "My baby… they took her to that island… and they're forcing her to…"
She couldn't finish. Fresh tears spilled as the horror sank in.
Eleanor set her glass down with a soft clink. She didn't move to comfort her.
"I will bring your daughter back," she said in a measured tone. "But you and your family will disappear from Fin's life. You've already broken him once. I won't allow it again."
Marianne lifted her head, eyes red and swollen. Her lips trembled.
"We destroyed him?" She laughed bitterly through her tears. "Eleanor… your son is becoming a monster. Yes, Clara made a mistake… but you have no idea what he did to me."
Eleanor's grip tightened on the glass.
Marianne told her everything — the yacht, the force, the way Fin had used her body while she was still reeling from shame. She described the roughness, the humiliation, the cold claim in his eyes.
When she finished, she expected horror.
Instead, Eleanor laughed — soft, genuine, almost proud.
Marianne stared, stunned. "You're… laughing?"
Eleanor's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. "How can I not? My son finally showed the strength I never thought he had. He took what he wanted. You deserved it."
Marianne's shoulders shook harder. She bit her lip, voice cracking with mocking despair.
"But Eleanor… what if you lose him too?" She let out a bitter laugh. "No — I know you will. Just like I lost my daughter."
Eleanor dismissed the words with a flick of her hand, her tone ice-cold.
"Don't talk nonsense. My son could never leave me. I would never allow it."
Marianne's eyes flashed with defiance. She opened her phone, scrolled through her gallery, and shoved the device across the table.
"See for yourself."
Eleanor stared at her for a long, dangerous second before picking up the phone. The screen showed scanned documents and notes from the file Dominus had given Fin — detailed information on Mike's family, along with cryptic references to the mystery surrounding her husband's death.
Her pulse quickened. She tried to hide it, but the slight tremor in her fingers betrayed her. She pushed the phone aside, her mind racing.
Marianne watched her every reaction like a hawk.
"Did you have a hand in your husband's death?" she asked, her voice low and cutting.
Eleanor's gaze turned glacial.
"Mind your words, Marianne. Your daughter's future still depends on me."
Marianne leaned forward, refusing to back down.
"I've always found it rather absurd that every Harrington in the family line died in that bombing at the ancestral estate... and your husband conveniently perished in a traffic accident shortly afterward. Yet somehow, only you and your son survived. How convenient. Now Fin stands as the sole bearer of the Harrington name, with control over a fortune that feeds millions."
Eleanor didn't reply. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.
Marianne stood up slowly, picking up her phone.
"Anyway, it's not my problem what secrets your family has. But if Fin ever finds out what you're hiding… don't you think he'll leave you too?"
Eleanor's voice was dangerously soft.
"Leave?"
Marianne sent a quick email to Eleanor from her phone.
"Check the mail I just sent you. It's a card with a number on it. Fin had it hidden in his room's locker. The password was no surprise — Clara's birth date. I searched his room, hoping to find anything about my daughter, but I only found this file and the card. I was thinking of calling the number myself, but it seems tied to you. So do whatever you need to do… but bring my daughter back, Eleanor."
Without waiting for a reply, Marianne turned and left the room, her silk nightdress whispering against the floor as she disappeared down the hallway.
Eleanor remained seated, staring at the phone in her hand. The golden light from the lamp cast long shadows across her face. Her expression was calm, but her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the email.
She picked up her phone and dialed the number without hesitation. The line rang several times. Just as she was about to end the call, it was picked up.
"Hello…" The voice was rough, gravelly, and instantly familiar.
"Simon," Eleanor said, her voice sharp.
The line went silent for a heartbeat. Then a low, broken laugh crackled through the speaker.
"Haha… who would have thought the mighty Eleanor Harrington would call me in the middle of the night? It brings back memories, doesn't it? You used to call me to ask about my brother's whereabouts… right before you killed him and wiped out my entire family."
Eleanor's grip on the phone tightened until her knuckles turned white. Her face remained composed, but her pulse hammered in her throat.
"Where are you?" she asked coldly.
Dominus laughed again, slow and mocking.
"Why? So you can send your mercenaries to finish what you started? No thanks."
"Simon, don't play games with me," she hissed. "Tell me where you are and why you're messing with my son."
There was a long pause. When Dominus finally spoke, his voice was low and venomous.
"What do I want? Nothing much. I just want your precious son to know the truth about the bloodline he carries. The real truth, Eleanor."
Eleanor stood up abruptly and began pacing the room, her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. Her mind raced.
How much does he know? If Fin finds out…
She forced her voice to stay steady.
"What do you want to keep your mouth shut? Money? Power? I'll give you whatever stake you desire. Just stay away from my son."
Dominus let out a soft, amused chuckle.
"My, my… I never thought I'd hear panic in your voice. I always believed a cold bitch like you was incapable of love. But it seems even you have a weakness. You really do love your son, don't you?"
Eleanor didn't reply. Her teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached.
Dominus continued, his tone turning cruelly satisfied.
"Fine. I'll keep my lips sealed… if you do one thing for me. Of course, if your son discovers the truth himself, that's not my problem."
Eleanor stopped pacing. A cold dread settled in her stomach.
"What do you want?" she asked through gritted teeth.
Dominus's laugh was slow and venomous.
"You are going to become a bride again, Eleanor. Congratulations."
Eleanor's blood ran cold.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Do you remember the child my elder brother fathered behind your back? The one you killed my entire family to hide? Well… he's grown up now. I raised him without your filthy hands ever touching him. You will marry him and become his dutiful wife. Only then will my family's souls find peace."
The line went silent. Eleanor stood frozen in the middle of the room, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. For the first time in decades, the ice queen of the Harrington empire felt truly cornered.
"Simon…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am," Dominus replied softly. "Think about it carefully, Eleanor. You took everything from me. Now I'll take everything from you… starting with your perfect little world. Marry the boy, or I'll make sure Fin learns every last dirty secret you've buried. The choice is yours."
The call ended with a soft click.
Eleanor remained standing in silence, staring at the dark screen. For several long seconds, she didn't move. Then, with a sharp breath, she turned and walked quickly to her private office down the hall.
The room was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the tall windows. Eleanor flicked on the desk lamp and began tearing through the locked drawers and filing cabinets with uncharacteristic urgency. Papers and folders flew across the desk as she searched. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled down her neck, soaking into the collar of her black silk blouse. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Finally, she found it — a thick file marked with the golden "H" symbol of the Harrington family. She opened it with trembling hands.
Inside was the official family lineage. A photograph showed a smiling man in his thirties standing beside Fin's father — Simon Harrington, her late husband's brother, officially listed as deceased. Eleanor's jaw tightened as she turned the page.
There was a hidden letter tucked behind it. She unfolded it with shaking fingers. A small photograph slipped out — a woman holding a newborn baby. On the back, neatly written in faded ink, were the birth details.
Eleanor whispered hoarsely, reading the date.
"According to this… the kid would be eighteen years old now…"
She closed the file slowly, her face pale. She poured herself a glass of whiskey with unsteady hands, the amber liquid sloshing slightly as she brought it to her lips.
"He's trying to mock me…" she muttered, staring into the glass. "What is his plan, anyway? He could ask for anything — money, power, a stake in the company — and I would give it. But why the hell does he want me to marry my late husband's bastard son?"
She sank into her chair, the moonlight piercing through the window and casting a silvery glow across her sweat-dampened skin. Her black silk blouse clung to her curves, the fabric slightly translucent where sweat had soaked through. Her chest rose and fell with heavy, uneven breaths. The knot in her stomach was tight and unpleasant, a rare feeling of genuine dread she hadn't experienced in years.
If I do as he says… I can buy time, she thought, her mind racing. But Fin will be even more broken. I was the only anchor he was holding on to. What if he thinks I betrayed him?
But if I don't… he will never look at my face again. It's one thing to hide the truth from him. But to know his own mother killed everyone in his family… can he really take it? No matter my reasons… will he listen to me?
Eleanor closed her eyes, her fingers tightening around the glass until it creaked. The night had grown far heavier than she had anticipated.
**
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