The cold air outside hit me like a slap, stealing the breath from my chest. I thought I was alone—until I saw her. A figure by the fountain, waiting, still as stone. My heart stuttered when she lifted her face.
"Mom?"
She froze, as if the word burned her. Then she stepped closer, her arms hovering in the space between us. "Brianna," she breathed, voice thin with relief. "I wasn't sure I'd see you this soon."
I took a step back, confusion knotting in my throat. "Why are you here? Did you…?''
Her lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. It was something heavier, almost mournful. "You think you've been fighting them alone? You think Jason is the only one who's been lying to you?"
My chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
Her lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Because I couldn't let you stand in this alone. You think Jaxon is the only one who's been lying to you? You think you've been fighting them without me?"
Her words struck like stones. I blinked, trying to steady the ground beneath me. "What do you mean?"
She exhaled shakily, as if the weight of years pressed on her ribs. "They came to me first, Brianna. Before Jaxon. Before the wedding. They said if you didn't sign… if you refused… they would kill you. Not immediately. Not cleanly. They would dismantle your life piece by piece until there was nothing left of you but ashes."
The room swayed. My throat closed. "And you didn't tell me?"
Her eyes shimmered, but her voice held steady. "How could I? You would have run. You would have fought—and they would have killed you faster. The only way to keep you safe was to… to let this play out until you were strong enough to face it."
The ground tilted under me. I stared at her, waiting for her face to crack into something that meant she was joking, lying, anything but this truth. But she only lifted trembling hands as if to prove she had no weapon, only words.
"I thought I was protecting you," she whispered. "I thought I could bargain with them, buy you time. But every deal I made pulled you closer to where you are now."
Her words echoed in my head, jagged and raw. Threats. Deals. My own mother bargaining with monsters in the dark.
I wanted to scream at her, demand why she hadn't told me, why she'd let me stumble blind into all this. But before I could speak, she caught my gaze and held it with an intensity that made my pulse falter.
"You don't understand, Brianna," she said, her voice breaking but steadying in the same breath. "This was never just about Jaxon. Never just about a marriage or a signature. From the moment you were born, they decided who you were meant to be."
Her hand trembled as she reached for me, but I couldn't move.
"You are your father's successor."
I stared at her, disbelief and anger warring in my chest. "Safe? You call this safe?" I gestured at the space between us, the quiet of the room amplifying every heartbeat. "You let me marry into this. You let me be bait. You—" My voice cracked, raw. "You betrayed me."
Her lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Brianna… listen to me." Her tone was soft, coaxing, but my fury wouldn't be tamed. "They threatened you… yes. They wanted you to sign, to continue what your father started. They wanted to use you to secure everything he built, everything I feared you'd inherit."
"I don't care!" I spat, stepping back. "I've spent my whole life running from him, from his greed, from his shadow. And now you're telling me I'm supposed to carry it too?"
She shook her head slowly, her eyes haunted. "I didn't ask for this. None of us did. But you are your father's successor, whether you like it or not. And they're not going to stop… not until you take the seat he left behind."
The words hit me like ice. My stomach twisted. "So you're telling me… all of this—Jason, the wedding, everything—it was just to get me to sign?" My voice trembled, a mixture of rage and disbelief. "Even you? Even you were part of it?"
"No, Brianna," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I love you. That's why I came. I'm telling you now, before it's too late. I can guide you, protect you, but… I can't do it for you. You have to choose. And yes… it will feel like betrayal, but it's not meant to destroy you. It's meant to give you control—before they take it from you."
I swallowed hard, my chest heaving, my hands balling into fists. The hatred I carried for my father flared hotter than ever. "Control? You mean enslave me in his legacy. I will never sign. Never. Not for him. Not for anyone."
Her gaze softened, but her expression remained grave. "Then you'll have to fight them, Brianna. And you won't be alone… but you have to be ready for the truth, no matter how much it hurts."
I shook my head, the room spinning with revelations, anger, and betrayal. "I can't trust anyone anymore. Not you. Not him. Not this family."
She sighed, the sound heavy with regret. "I understand. But know this—you are stronger than you think, and this… this is your fight now. Not mine. Not his. Yours."
I stopped. The hallway held its breath with me.
My fists unclenched—slow, deliberate—and when I let the anger land, it didn't crumble into helplessness. It sharpened. A shape formed out of the chaos in my chest: not surrender, but fight.
"I will not be your ledger," I hissed, the words raw and small and somehow enough. "I will not sign. I will not inherit his poison. I will not hand myself over to men who bargain with blood."
My voice steadied as I spoke, each sentence a stake hammered into the ground. "They think I'm a board to be moved. Fine. I'll burn the board. I'll pull the pieces apart and expose the game. I'll find every name on those lists, every ledger line, and I'll drag it into the light. I'll make what's hidden toxic to them. I will not be the key that opens their doors—I'll be the lock they can't pick."
I could feel the vow in my bones like heat. It demanded action, not dramatics. Plans would come later; right now I needed a single, uncompromising next step. I swallowed the tide of fury and the tremor beneath it, then reached for my phone.
My thumb hovered over contacts I'd avoided until now. I picked one—the only person left who owed me nothing, who'd seen my life before it was rewritten. I didn't call for comfort. I called to assemble armor.
"Meet me," I said when the voice answered. "Tonight. Bring everything you have on Argentum, on my father—everything."
I snapped the phone shut and took a breath that tasted like iron and resolve. The night air hit me when I pulled the door open—cold, clean, honest. It cut through the fog in my head. I walked out past the fountain, past the watching portraits, and with each step the promise inside me hardened.
They wanted me to be played. They chose the wrong woman.