Fiona swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant.
Back at the Moore mansion, Victor's business partner, Harold Finch, arrived unannounced. He was a powerful but ruthless investor who had backed many of Victor's ventures.
"Victor, I have ears everywhere," Harold said grimly. "If Elena Hart—your foster daughter—surfaces with any proof of your involvement, your businesses will crumble. The Hart family has power beyond what we can contain. You need to fix this."
Victor's fists clenched. "How? We can't risk another public failure."
"Then deal with it quietly," Harold growled. "Or you'll be bankrupt before the year ends."
Julia's panic deepened, but beneath it flickered a new strategy.
In the heart of Oakridge, at a prestigious gentlemen's club, Noah Hart swirled his drink, listening quietly to whispered rumors from corporate insiders.
"Moore's company stocks are shaky," one investor mused. "Insiders are spooked, especially after sightings of the 'ghost wife.'"
Noah's grin widened, his mind already working. He texted Mason: 'Keep eyes on Moore Holdings. Big cracks forming.'
That night, at Hart Mansion, Sebastian stood by the balcony overlooking the city, files spread out before him. Aria stepped out to join him.
"The Moores are scrambling," she said, showing him a message from Carmen Rivas. "And Fiona is currently hiding"
Sebastian's calculating gaze met hers. For the first time, there was a flicker of admiration beneath his cold exterior.
"Then we strike while they panic," he said softly. "They thought they buried you… now it's time to bury them."
Aria's lips curved into a dangerous smile. The game had just turned in their favor.
_________________
2 days later
In the dimly lit corner of a provincial bus terminal, Fiona adjusted the brim of her cap and lowered her head, blending effortlessly into the crowd. Her heart pounded against her ribs, every passing second a reminder of the web she had escaped. The province of Westmere was far from the high walls of the Hart mansion and the suffocating pressure of Oakridge City. Here, she could vanish—at least for now.
By the time the bus pulled out of the station, Fiona's burner phone had been smashed and discarded into a drainage ditch. She leaned against the cool glass of the window, eyes closing briefly. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself a breath of false relief.
Back in Oakridge, at the Moore estate, Julia leaned back on the patio chaise lounge, the sunlight soft against her skin. "Fiona's gone," she announced smugly, flipping through her phone. "The agency cleaned up her records, no trace left. Elena can't trace anything back now."
Victor poured himself a glass of whiskey. "The poison's trail is erased. All we have to do now is stay quiet."
Gloria, while less convinced, forced a smile. "Then let's lay low. No reason to poke a sleeping bear."
Julia 's phone buzzed with a notification: a news headline of Elena attending a low-profile charity event. Her grip tightened, but she forced herself to believe Elena was no threat without evidence. "We've won," she whispered to herself, but an uneasy chill curled at the back of her neck.
---
Meanwhile, at the Hart Mansion, the atmosphere had shifted subtly. The mornings were no longer punctuated by sharp silences. There was now a lingering warmth, a faint undercurrent of something neither Sebastian nor Aria could fully define.
Sebastian, dressed casually for once, leaned against the doorway of the second-floor lounge, watching Elena—Aria—practice a soft piano piece. Her fingers moved gracefully, expression calm, completely unlike the woman he had married.
He found himself lingering longer than usual, arms crossed, observing her poise, her quiet determination. Something about her presence no longer irritated him; it intrigued him.
Later, during breakfast, he noticed she chose practical meals instead of overly extravagant ones. She engaged the staff politely, held herself with effortless elegance, and ignored his cold demeanor instead of reacting dramatically.
"You've changed," Sebastian muttered, unable to stop himself.
Aria glanced up from her bowl, her expression serene. "Change is inevitable when you're forced to see life differently."
Sebastian blinked, momentarily speechless. He left the table, but not without stealing a final glance over his shoulder.
---
At Hart Corporation, Sebastian called Mason into his office. " Don't put the investigation on hold just because the maid's trail has gone cold," he said, tone clipped. " Also keep low-level surveillance on Moore Holdings. If they slip up, I want to know."
Mason nodded. "Understood, sir."
Sebastian leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the desk. For reasons he couldn't explain, his priority was shifting. The urge to unravel Elena's secrets had dulled, replaced by a strange curiosity about the woman she was becoming.
---
That evening, Aria wandered the mansion grounds, enjoying the quiet evening air. She paused beneath the old willow tree, staring up at its twisting branches.
Behind her, footsteps approached. She turned to find Sebastian, hands in his pockets, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"You look… comfortable here," he said, his voice softer than usual.
"I am," she replied honestly. "For now...enjoying my time before the 3 months period hits "
Their eyes met, neither of them moving, the silence thick but not suffocating. Sebastian nodded once, almost to himself, before walking back towards the mansion.
Aria remained beneath the tree, a small smile playing at her lips as she realised she's changing Sebastians view of her.
---
Far away in Westmere, Fiona alone in a run-down motel, staring at the new phone she had just bought. Carmen Rivas's voice echoed in her memory: "You can run… or you can talk."
Fiona knew running only delayed the inevitable. Eventually, the shadows always caught up.
For now, though, she would lie low.
But the storm was not over.
It was only gathering strength.