The Alvar estate stood deep in the northern valleys, where mist rolled off the cliffs and the sea murmured like a sleeping giant.
It wasn't on any map, though politicians, magnates, and kings had all once passed through its gates. The world believed the Alvar family to be extinct. They preferred it that way.
Maya arrived without ceremony. The gates opened for her without question. The servants bowed, not out of warmth, but recognition. Blood, even in exile, carried memory.
Her mother sat in the solarium, surrounded by glass and vines. She was older now—elegant as a sword left to rust in silk. She did not stand when Maya entered.
"So," her mother said, "the husband has finally been taken."
Maya didn't flinch. "You knew?"
"I know when the world shifts. And I know when one of ours forgets her place."
"He didn't die because I forgot my place," Maya said quietly. "He died because I loved him."
"That's worse," her mother said. "Love makes you visible."
Maya looked out toward the fog. "Then it's time I stopped hiding."
Her mother tilted her head, studying her daughter as if seeing her for the first time. "What are you planning?"
"Justice."
"Or vengeance?"
Maya turned back, eyes cold, the silver ring catching light. "Does it matter?"
---
That night she reopened the Alvar family archives—rooms lined with ledgers, black files, and hidden tools of persuasion. Her ancestors had built empires by removing obstacles discreetly. For generations, they'd promised never to interfere with the outer world again.
But the world had interfered with her.
She pinned photographs to the wall: Elias's manager, his producer, the studio head, the network director, a woman from his public relations team. The police report—falsified. The autopsy—altered. She traced each connection, each lie.
At the center of the web was a name she didn't recognize: Cassian Vale.
A man whose shadow touched everything.
Maya pressed a thumb against the name until the ink smeared.
Outside, thunder rolled across the cliffs like a vow being made.
---
The next morning, her mother's voice echoed through the corridor:
"If you begin this, there is no return, Maya."
Maya paused at the threshold, the ocean roaring below.
"There's nothing to return to."
She descended the stairs, cloak brushing the marble, and vanished into the mist.