THE ACCIDENT
846 Words
(Season 1)
CHAPTER 4
The front doors closed with a soft, final _click_.
And that sound broke something in MRS. BROWN.
She stood in the drawing room, tea still steaming on the table no one touched.
Her anger wasn’t building anymore. It was detonating. Second by second.
Gone.
Her chance.
Her merger.
Her signature.
The Vex money. The properties. Twenty years of waiting — snatched in one night because a girl couldn’t follow one order.
“*My lady.*”
*MR. PHILLIPS* came down the stairs two at a time. Face pale. Hands shaking.
“Where is that ungrateful brat?” Mrs. Brown didn’t turn. Her voice was low. The worst kind.
“My... My lady... Miss Liora is nowhere in the mansion.”
The air left the room.
“*Mom.* He’s right.” *JAE* stepped out from the hall, phone still in her hand. “She’s not in her room either. Closet’s empty. Window’s open.”
Mrs. Brown turned. Slow.
She stared at her daughter. Blank. Processing. Then:
“*HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!*”
The chandelier rattled.
“AND WHY ON EARTH WOULD SHE LEAVE THE HOUSE?! SHE’S NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE!”
The staff pressed themselves to the walls.
They saw rage.
What they didn’t see was the panic clawing up her throat.
_What’s going on? How did she get out? Why now?_
_Did she find out? About the trust? About the 20th birthday clause?_
_No. That’s impossible. I burned the files. I buried the lawyer._
This couldn’t be happening. Not now. She was two months away.
“*Send men out!*” she snapped. “Now. She hasn’t gone far. Not in this weather, not in that state. Find her. Bring her back. I don’t care how!”
She was yelling like a woman cornered. Because she was.
That girl was the key. The ticket. The lock and the signature.
Mrs. Brown had waited *twenty years* for this.
Twenty years of playing ‘mother’.
Twenty years of smiling at school plays and charity galas while counting down.
Because Liora’s mother, *Hanan Valor*, had been smart.
Every cent of the Valor fortune was locked in a trust.
No husband access. No step-mother access.
Only Liora. Only at age twenty.
Hanan found out Rubben married her for the money. Then found out he got another woman pregnant.
So she locked it all down. To protect her daughter.
“One day they’ll try to take it,” she’d told her lawyer. “Don’t let them.”
And she died two months later.
Rubben disappeared a year after that.
Leaving Liora. And leaving Mrs. Brown with a problem that needed time to solve.
Two more months. That was all she needed.
Now the asset was running in the rain.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Liora didn’t have a plan.
Running didn’t come with a map.
But going back was a death sentence. And she knew Mrs. Brown had men coming. She could feel it.
So she ran.
Her mind was noise. _Don’t get caught. Don’t pass out. Keep moving._
But her body was failing. The cold was in her bones. The allergy was creeping up her throat. Her vision swam.
Every breath was smaller than the last.
The hoodie wasn’t enough. The rain wasn’t stopping.
Beck was shaking in her pocket.
She didn’t see the headlights.
Didn’t hear the engine over the storm.
All she saw was white. A flash.
Then nothing.
Her body hit the wet asphalt and the world went black.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
ZOD kept his eyes on the road. And on the mirror.
Specifically, on the man in the backseat.
KALEN VEX.
Ever since they landed at Teterboro, something was off.
It was small. A twitch in the jaw. Fingers tapping once too many times. The way he wasn’t looking at his phone.
Zod was one of two people alive who knew why.
He knew about the fire. About the trust. About the person Kalen lost track of years ago.
He’d watched Kalen build an empire to make sure no one could ever touch him again.
And he’d watched Kalen go completely still for years.
Tonight was different.
Kalen looked like he was being torn apart from the inside.
Pain. Raw, silent, unbearable. Like his ribs were cracking and he refused to let anyone hear it.
He didn’t say what was wrong. He never did.
“*Call Vee,*” he said. Voice colder than the rain.
The word alone made Zod’s spine go tight.
*Vee.* Kalen’s personal blood donor. The only person allowed to see him like this.
Zod didn’t ask. Asking got you buried.
He just picked up the phone.
Because if he didn’t move fast enough, tomorrow’s headlines would read: _Prominent Hotelier Found Dead in Penthouse._
And they’d be talking about him.
Kalen stared out the window. Manhattan lights blurred past.
His chest hurt.
And for the first time in years, he had no idea why.
TBC
- Writer
