Kian Huo was true to his word. Within twenty-four hours, the dormant "Phoenix Foundation for the Arts" was resurrected. Elara felt it rise with the brutal efficiency only his billions could command. An entire floor in one of the Huo Enterprises towers converted into a lavish office for her. Staff hired. Accounts funded. And a list of the foundation's original board members and patrons appeared on a silver platter on her desk.
It was a breathtaking display of power. It left Elara both impressed and intimidated. Kian had given her a kingdom, but every wall was made of glass. He was always on the other side, watching.
Her new "Executive Assistant," a woman named Ms. Iris, was sharp, polite. And unnervingly perceptive. *Iris's loyalty wasn't hers. It was Kian's.* Elara knew it instantly. Every call she made, every email she sent, would be reported back to him.
"Mr. Huo has arranged for your first board meeting this afternoon, Ms. Meng," Iris announced on Elara's first day, her smile never quite reaching her eyes.
"To re-introduce you and outline your vision for the gala."
"Thank you, Iris," Elara said, making sure her own tone was polite, professional.
"Please ensure the files on the original patrons are on the table. Especially the Feng family file."
She saw a flicker of surprise in Iris's eyes before it was smoothed away. *A small test. And the reaction was telling. The Fengs. A sensitive topic.*
***
The boardroom felt imposing, a long mahogany table polished to a mirror sheen. As the board members trickled in—old, wealthy men and women who had been her mother's peers—a wave of nerves threatened to overwhelm Elara. She crushed it down. *She was not just a dancer anymore. She was the face of this foundation. She was Liana Meng's daughter.*
She delivered her speech with practiced grace, outlining a vision for a spectacular charity gala that would not only honor her mother's memory but also re-establish the Phoenix Foundation as the premier arts patron in Port Sterling. Polite applause and approving nods followed.
All except for one.
A woman sat at the far end of the table, her expression one of bored amusement. She was impeccably dressed, her features sharp and intelligent. Elara recognized her from Kian's family photos. It was his sister, Seraphina Huo.
"A very touching vision, Elara," Seraphina said when the applause died down, her voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of steel. *She was the only one who used her first name so casually.*
"But sentiment doesn't fund endowments. The original Phoenix Foundation under your mother was more than just a charity. It was a 'social investment club,' shall we say? A network."
"Its patrons expected a certain... return on their investment. Are you prepared to manage those expectations?"
The room went quiet. Seraphina's words felt like a direct challenge. *A reminder. This foundation was built on secrets Elara didn't understand.*
"I am prepared to honor my mother's legacy in its entirety," Elara replied coolly, meeting her gaze without flinching.
"And to ensure all our patrons are... satisfied."
A faint, knowing smile played on Seraphina's lips.
"We shall see."
The meeting concluded, but Seraphina's challenge lingered in the air. *She was an obstacle. A powerful one.*
***
That evening, Elara was reviewing the old patron files in her new office when Kian walked in unannounced. He placed a cup of her favorite tea on her desk.
"A long day?" he asked, his eyes scanning the files spread across her desk.
"An enlightening one," she said.
"Your sister seems to believe I'm not up to the task."
"Seraphina has always been... ambitious," Kian said dismissively, but Elara caught the slight tension in his shoulders.
"Don't pay her any mind. She has no real power on this board."
*Another lie. Elara sensed the power struggle between the siblings.*
"The files are fascinating," Elara said, changing the subject, gesturing to a specific folder.
"I see the Feng family was one of the top donors. It's surprising, considering how their business fared against yours."
Kian walked behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs gently massaging the tense muscles. His touch felt possessive.
"Business is business. Philanthropy is philanthropy," he murmured into her hair.
"Sometimes, the most bitter rivals can find common ground in other ventures."
He was close, too close. His familiar scent wrapped around her, a confusing mix of comfort and danger. His explanation felt smooth, but Elara knew it was a carefully constructed facade.
As he leaned over to look at the file, something fell from his coat pocket onto the desk. It was a small, ornate silver key. Before he could react, Elara picked it up.
"What's this for?" she asked, her curiosity genuine.
Kian's expression tightened instantly. He gently took the key from her hand, his movements swift and decisive.
"Nothing," he said, his voice a little too quick. "Just an old key to a storage unit."
He pocketed it, but not before Elara saw the insignia engraved on its head.
It was a phoenix.
He changed the subject, talking about the gala, but Elara's mind was racing. *It wasn't a key to a storage unit. It was a key to a secret. The "Project" from his journal. The "network" Seraphina had alluded to.*
*And Kian carried the key with him.*
She now had a new target. It wasn't just about searching for files or memories anymore.
*She had to get that key.*