The sea was quieter than Elias expected—calm, almost too calm. As the private jet descended into the coastal airstrip of Miran Isle, he stared through the window at the jagged cliffs and fog-draped forests surrounding the island. Coordinates from the old Thorne letter had led him here, to a place no one had spoken of for decades. A place even the archives at Draxton had buried.
Jude sat across from him in the cabin, arms folded, eyes scanning a file.
"There's almost nothing on this place," Jude muttered. "It's privately owned. No listed residents. It's like it fell off every map on purpose."
"It did," Elias replied, voice calm but heavy. "And I think my past is buried here."
Lewis, seated beside the pilot, turned slightly. "We land in five. You sure we're not walking into a trap?"
"I'm sure we are," Elias said. "But the only way out is through.
The air was sharp, briny, and cold. Pine trees rustled above them as the three men trekked up the overgrown path. Elias clutched the photograph tighter in his coat pocket the one with the boy. There was a name at the bottom now. Nico."
A memory stirred. A child's laugh. A small hand tugging his arm. But it vanished too quickly.
They reached the remnants of what once was a manor. Stone walls broken by time and vines. A rusted gate creaked open. Inside, collapsed furniture, shattered portraits, and torn documents.
Then footsteps.
Elias raised a hand. Lewis instinctively reached for his concealed weapon.
An old man stepped out from the shadows. Gaunt. Eyes sunken, but bright with recognition.
"You've come back," he rasped. "Just like the letter said you would."
Elias narrowed his gaze. "You knew Elias Thorne?"
The old man laughed. "Knew him? I served him. I protected him... before the world thought he died."
He stepped closer, trembling.
"But you he whispered, voice cracking. "You are him
Back in the city, Neriah Sand stared at the leaked footage.
The scandal had gone viral.
Elias Thorne. A woman. A bed. Blurred faces. Headlines screamed *"Billionaire's Double Life"*, *"Charity or Cover-Up?"*, *"The Duchess Representative Speaks Out!"*
Only Neriah saw the inconsistencies.
"The timestamps don't match," she muttered. "The reflections in the mirror... reversed. This was doctored."
She stood, grabbed her coat, and headed out. Elias might be walking into something dark, but so were his enemies. And she wasn't one to watch silently from the sidelines.
The old man, whose name was Harlan, guided Elias and the others to an underground chapel built beneath the manor. The walls were etched with Thorne family crests. A small grave stood at the far end, unmarked but lovingly tended.
"This," Harlan whispered, "is where they buried Nico."
Elias froze. "The boy from the photo."
Harlan nodded. "He was a decoy. They thought the enemies wouldn't harm a child. They didn't know you'd switch places. Nico died because of you."
Elias felt his breath leave him.
"I never meant for anyone to die."
"But someone did," Harlan said. "And others covered it up. The ship crash? It was orchestrated. A Thorne cousin ordered it. Valerie's father was involved. All of it... to remove you."
Jude stepped forward. "That means Dexter knew. Landon knew. Magritte likely orchestrated the leak to keep this buried."
Elias touched the grave. His fingers trembled.
"I need proof," he said. "Something I can use to burn them down."
Harlan nodded slowly, eyes moist. "Then you'll need to find the ledger. Nico's birth record. Your mother's final confession. They're not here. They were taken hidden in Draxton's offshore vault."
Elias stood. The fire in his eyes reignited.
"Then we go back."
Valerie Dexter stared at the newsfeed with trembling hands. Her name hadn't been dragged through the scandal yet. But she knew the scent of blood. Elias was rising.
And if he regained full memory of what they'd done...
A knock on the door.
She opened it to find Magritte standing there, soaked in rain.
"We need to talk," Magritte said flatly.
Valerie stepped aside. "You said this would work. That he'd spiral."
Magritte removed her gloves slowly.
"He didn't spiral," she said coldly. "He sharpened."
By midnight, Elias was back in the city. The skyline blinked like it had missed him. Neriah was already waiting in his study.
"Your enemies are desperate," she said without preamble. "But not sloppy enough. If you're going to win this, you need to give the public a truth so big they can't ignore it."
Elias set the photograph on the desk.
"What if I told them a boy died in my place? That I was meant to die... and someone orchestrated it from inside?"
Neriah didn't flinch. "Then I'd tell you to have your facts straight. And to strike first. Before they leak something worse."
He nodded slowly.
Then Jude entered, holding a brown envelope.
"This just arrived anonymously."
Elias opened it.
Inside: a single photograph. Taken decades ago. Valerie's father. Dexter. A man Elias didn't recognize.
And Nico alive.
A handwritten note was clipped to the back.
You want the truth? Find me.
M