Ashes Of Inheritance: A Billionaire Love Story

Chapter Two ; ELIORA’s POV

I used to think silence was peaceful.

The countryside teaches you otherwise.

During nighttime hours, as nocturnal creatures buzz around and the cool air blows softly through the window panes, it feels almost deafeningly quiet. It stores information. Its presence brings back memories forcefully, making them confrontational enough for their emotional weight to cause physical discomfort in your chest.

That was how my father found me.

Or maybe it was how I found him.

Previously, I was sixteen when returning home after school due to another breakdown of the public transportation system. There was an instance where I became irritated due to dirt underfoot, feeling left out because of others' progress, and experiencing frustration over rural living's constant need for endurance which exceeded what I possessed.

As soon as I entered through the front gate of my home, an overwhelming aroma enveloped me immediately.

Rope. Sweat. Something sour.

I called out once. “Daddy? ”

No answer.

The seat of the desk lay overturned. Above its position stood an object whose shadow appeared unusually dim.

I didn’t scream. Not at first.

There I was, gazing up at him as though mesmerized by their proximity - mere centimeters away yet securely fastened on his ankles, ready for another chance ascent.

I heard an unearthly noise within myself which lacked any semblance of humanity.

Subsequently, all clarity was lost the neighbors, officers, all whispered sympathies, glances that avoided my gaze. It was reported that my father has been accused of wrongdoing. He was compelled by guilt to do so. These individuals assert that influential figures rarely deceive others.

But I knew my father.

For an aggregate of twelve years, he served under the employ of Valeria vale's team under the Victor vale’s firm . She exercised caution. To an extent characterized by tenacity. A person known for counting their finances carefully before spending even small amounts, ensuring they don’t overspend unnecessarily by checking again in case there was an error initially overlooked.

He didn’t steal.

Someone stole his life instead.

Then my resentment started quietly, without haste, yet meticulously planned. An enmity simmered within me, dormant yet waiting for an opportunity to erupt.

From an early age, I discovered that wealthy individuals do not engage in violence. They receive endorsements.

Many years past, I reclined beside my dimly lit dining area counter where once upon a time, my paternal grandfather had mended phonographs. Now, in this familiar space, I gazed intently at my computer monitor.

The article had gone live three days ago.

ORION VALE: BILLIONAIRE BUILT ON FRAUD?

My name sat beneath it like a challenge.

By Eliora Everette.

I should have felt satisfied. Vindicated. Proud.

Consequently, each refresh of the webpage caused me discomfort in my abdomen.

I believed there was no breach in the security of the evidence. International money movements. Companies incorporated in offshore jurisdictions. Files transmitted via secure email attachments and covert informants. I identified names. Situations where conditions match excessively poorly for inquiry.

Valeria Vale herself had reached out.

My memory retains the recollection of that encounter. Elegant downtown eatery bathed in golden light through mirrored windows. Her appearance matched precisely what I anticipated: she was elegant, well-organized, her gaze sharp due to intellectual prowess but also carrying an element of mystery within it.

You do not recognize me," she murmured while stirring her cocktail, "yet I recall knowing your paternal figure. .

That was how she hooked me.

She discussed inequality in her remarks. Men of great influence conceal themselves through their offspring. Orion Vale bears no resemblance to his parentage. He was depicted by her in an unforgiving light: cruel, dishonest, devoid of moral integrity.

Valeria remarked bitterly: "He caused harm. Those virtuous individuals. Just as you do. .

Once inside, it became apparent that the space was cramped. The tremors in my grip were evident as I held onto the mug tightly.

She withheld my instructions on writing entirely. It was unnecessary for her.

She merely indicated where I should go without interfering further with my emotions.

Currently, observing solitude amidst nature, I pondered on the reason behind her eagerness to assist in my efforts against her own son.

I shut the laptop.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

Truth didn’t always feel clean. Justice wasn’t gentle.

And yet i found my mind wandering without prompting to the person I encountered during the downpour.

Orion.

It struck me as odd how his voice conveyed an intangible emotion beneath its surface. His appearance did not resemble someone seeking refuge in solitude. His appearance suggested he was past losing control.

He lacked any sense of superiority. There are no jagged corners present in view. Feeling weary yet commanding an atmosphere of energy.

I shook my head, annoyed at myself.

People unfamiliar to me held no significance. People often found men an interruption. There was an obligation requiring action.

My late father’s financial burdens still lingered on after he passed away. Mail continued to be delivered. Quantities remained substantial. Even though I was shielded by nature's beauty, civilization still weighed heavily upon me.

The next morning, I saw Orion again.

Standing beside the modest grocery shop, he raised his arms as far as they would go, assisting an elderly lady in lifting shopping carts into her vehicle. She acknowledged his assistance with an effortless, unrestrained grin that contrasted sharply with her portrayal as a nefarious crime lord in the news report.

My steps slowed.

I inwardly dismissed it as absurd. Once upon a time, creatures were not perceived as monstrous beings.

However, upon his turn towards me, an alteration occurred within him.

“Good morning,” he said.

He spoke in a composed manner yet his gaze scrutinized mine intensely, as if seeking answers hidden within me, much like piecing together an unsolved mystery.

“Morning,” I replied.

For an instant, we strolled shoulder-to-shoulder in hushed companionship uncomfortable yet laden with unspoken tension.

“You live nearby? ” he asked.

“Yes. ” I hesitated. “You? ”

“For now. ”

The term resurfaced once more. For an indefinite period of time. It seems as though his stay was not prolonged enough for him to establish any lasting connections there.

“You work remotely? ” I asked.

His mouth curved faintly. “Something like that. ”

I laughed softly. “You’re very vague. ”

“So are you,” he replied.

I glanced at him, surprised. He wasn’t wrong.

Our journey took us near an intersection on the roadside.

Well," I remarked hesitantly, "I'm not sure what caused my disappointment yet. .

“Eliora. ”

His pronouncement of my name caused me to gasp for air. Unromantic. Purpose.

With each step backward, he seemed to follow me silently as if asking questions in silence behind me.That evening, my phone buzzed a new message from an unknown number.

“You trusted the wrong source”

My heart skipped.

Another message followed almost immediately.

Vale desires no retribution. She seeks human life for consumption purposes.

I stared at the screen, fingers numb.

Before I could respond, a third message appeared.

Orion Vale isn't who you imagine him to be.

Across from me, gusts of wind roared, causing the windowsill to shiver violently.

In another part of town, I noticed Orion Vale observing my actions as well this realization had become clear to me recently.

For the initial publication of this piece, apprehension now resides in my heart.

Not of him.

But of what I had done.