Volume 3: The End of the Lies and the Rebirth of the Iris
There seemed to be an unsettling element frozen in the air. Ever since Carl left, Irene had been feeling an indescribable restlessness. The elder Rockefeller's summons was like the Sword of Damocles hanging over her head, ready to fall at any moment.
Taking a deep breath, Irene told herself to stay calm. No matter what tricks the old fox had up his sleeve, she had to face it with composure. She stepped out of the lounge and walked along the long corridor towards the elder Rockefeller's study.
The night at the Rockefeller Manor was even more eerie than during the day. The Gothic architecture, shrouded in the darkness, resembled a lurking beast, ready to devour everything at any moment. The oil paintings on the walls looked terrifying under the dim light, as if wordlessly recounting the sins and secrets of the Rockefeller family.
Knocking on the study door, she heard the elder Rockefeller's aged and低沉 voice from inside: "Come in."
Pushing open the door, the warm light from the fireplace in the study came into view, dispelling some of the chill. The elder Rockefeller sat behind the large desk, with his back to the door, seemingly engrossed in something. The strong smell of cigars filled the air, making it almost suffocating.
"You're here, Olivia." The elder Rockefeller didn't turn around, his tone so calm that it sent a shiver down her spine.
Irene walked to the front of the desk. Looking at the elder Rockefeller's gray hair and slightly hunched back, a complex mix of emotions welled up in her heart. This man, who once held the lifeline of the entire city in his hands, now resembled a weather-beaten withered tree, on the verge of collapse.
"Mr. Rockefeller, you wanted to see me?" Irene used Olivia's tone, doing her best to sound composed.
The elder Rockefeller slowly turned around. His gaze was like two sharp daggers, piercing through Irene's disguise. "Have a seat," he said, pointing to the chair in front of the desk.
Irene sat down as told, not daring to let down her guard. She knew that the upcoming conversation would determine her fate.
"Olivia, do you know why I called you here?" The elder Rockefeller's eyes bore into Irene, as if he could see through her soul.
Irene shook her head, trying hard to hide the unease inside. "I don't understand."
A meaningful smile crossed the elder Rockefeller's lips. "Don't understand? Do you really not understand? Do you think I know nothing about the things you've done?"
Irene's heart skipped a beat. He knew! He knew she wasn't Olivia!
"W - what are you talking about?" Irene asked, feigning calmness.
The elder Rockefeller sneered, picked up a photo from the desk, and threw it in front of Irene. In the photo was a girl wearing shabby clothes, standing on the streets of the slum. Although the photo was a bit blurry, Irene recognized it at a glance - it was herself as a child.
"Do you recognize this photo?" the elder Rockefeller asked, his tone as cold as a blade.
Irene's face instantly turned pale. "I... I don't know." She tried to deny it, but her voice trembled violently.
Ignoring her excuses, the elder Rockefeller continued, "You thought you disguised yourself well, but your eyes, your mannerisms, are completely different from the real Olivia. You don't even know her favorite iris flower."
Irene's heart sank to the bottom. She knew she had nowhere to run.
"Since you already know, then... what do you want?" Irene gave up the pretense and asked calmly.
An approving look crossed the elder Rockefeller's face. "I like your sense of timing. Tell me, who sent you to get close to the Rockefeller family? Carl Howard?"
Irene hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "It wasn't him. I... I'm here for revenge."
"Revenge?" The elder Rockefeller raised an eyebrow. "For whom? Your sister?"
Irene remained silent, admitting her identity.
"She was killed by accident," the elder Rockefeller said casually, as if talking about something trivial.
"Accident? You killed her!" Irene's emotions finally erupted. She suddenly stood up, pointed at the elder Rockefeller, and shouted hoarsely, "You silenced her to cover up your crimes!"
The elder Rockefeller's face darkened. "Watch your words, Olivia... no, Irene. You have no evidence."
"Evidence?" Irene sneered. "I'll find it! I'll make the Rockefeller family pay for their crimes with blood!"
The elder Rockefeller sighed. "It seems you're truly hopeless."
He pressed a button on the desk, and the door of the room immediately opened. Two bodyguards dressed in black walked in.
"Take her away," the elder Rockefeller said coldly.
Irene didn't resist and let the bodyguards lead her away. She knew this wasn't the time to fight back. She needed to calm down, make plans, find evidence, and expose the crimes of the Rockefeller family.
She was taken to a dark and damp basement. There was only a simple bed and a table in the room. She knew she had been placed under house arrest.
However, Irene wasn't desperate. She knew this was just the beginning of her revenge.
That night, the elder Rockefeller hosted a dinner in the dining room and invited Sean and Carl.
The dining table was filled with exquisite dishes, but the atmosphere was extremely oppressive. Sean's face was pale, and his eyes were filled with exhaustion and worry. Carl, as always, was elegant and composed, as if nothing mattered to him.
"Sean, how's your health recently?" the elder Rockefeller asked with concern.
"Thank you for your concern, Grandfather. I'm fine," Sean forced a smile.
"Good. Young people should take better care of their health," the elder Rockefeller nodded.
"I will," Sean said.
"Carl, are you satisfied with your recent art collection?" the elder Rockefeller turned to Carl and asked gently.
"Very satisfied. The Rockefeller family's collection is a gem in the art world," Carl flattered.
"Good. If you need anything in the future, don't hesitate to let me know," the elder Rockefeller said with a satisfied smile.
Halfway through the dinner, the elder Rockefeller suddenly put down his knife and fork, looked at Sean and Carl, and said in a serious tone, "Tonight, I have something important to announce."
Sean and Carl stopped eating and waited quietly for the elder Rockefeller to continue.
"I've decided to pass on the right of inheritance of the Rockefeller family to..." The elder Rockefeller paused, his gaze shifting between Sean and Carl. "...to Sean."
Sean's face changed slightly. He had thought he had lost the right of inheritance, but unexpectedly, the elder Rockefeller had chosen him in the end.
Carl showed no expression, as if he had expected this outcome.
"Thank you, Grandfather," Sean said excitedly.
"Don't thank me. I chose you because you're a descendant of the Rockefeller family. But remember, inheriting the Rockefeller family's wealth means you also have to shoulder the corresponding responsibilities," the elder Rockefeller said.
"I understand," Sean said firmly.
"All right, that's enough for today." The elder Rockefeller got up and left the dining room.
Sean looked at the elder Rockefeller's departing back, filled with doubts and unease. He always felt that there was some ulterior secret behind the elder Rockefeller's decision.
Carl walked up to Sean and patted him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Sean."
"Thanks," Sean replied, his tone a bit forced.
"You're welcome. But be careful. The right of inheritance of the Rockefeller family isn't so easily obtained," Carl smiled.
With that, Carl also turned and left the dining room, leaving Sean alone, facing this last supper. He had no idea that an even more brutal conspiracy awaited him.