The rain had stopped by morning.
A pale gray dawn spread across the city skyline, washing the streets in a cold, quiet light.
From the top floor of the Sterling Tower, the world looked peaceful.
But inside the private conference room, tension still lingered like smoke after a fire.
Ametrine stood by the window, staring at the horizon.
Her mind replayed Marco Orsini’s words again and again.
You’re the last surviving heir.
The sentence felt unreal.
For years she had believed her life was simple.
A countryside childhood.
A grandmother who raised her quietly.
A past filled with tragedy but nothing extraordinary.
Now everything had changed.
Behind her, Zyair leaned against the conference table, watching her carefully.
“You’ve been silent for twenty minutes.”
She didn’t turn aroun
