The corridor narrowed as Ellios walked away from the medical wing, its sterile brightness gradually giving way to darker wood panels and heavy carpets. Every step felt measured here, as though the house itself counted his movements, recorded them, weighed them.
"A young master should not walk so fast."
The voice stopped him.
Ellios turned, surprise flickering briefly across his face before softening into something rare—relief.
"Aunty Jane," he said.
The older woman stood near a tall window, hands folded neatly in front of her apron. Her hair was streaked with silver now, pulled into the same practical bun she had worn for as long as Ellios could remember. Her eyes, however, were unchanged—sharp, observant, and endlessly tired.
She had been here longer than most.
Head maid of the Blade estate.
And Gabriel's mother.
"I heard you arrived this morning," she said, stepping closer. "You look thinner."
Ellios smiled faintly. "You always say that."
"And I am always right," Jane replied. Her gaze lingered on his face, scanning for injuries that did not show. "Did you see your sister?"
"Yes."
Jane exhaled slowly. "That's good."
There was so much unsaid between them that it pressed against Ellios's chest. In this den of wolves, Jane had been the closest thing he'd had to shelter. She had scolded him when he forgot to eat, smuggled extra blankets into his room, and once—just once—held him while he cried in silence.
Their relationship was complicated.
She served the blade house hold.
But she had protected Ellios when she could.
"I heard the Old Master came yesterday," Jane said quietly.
Ellios nodded. "I was… absent at the time."
Her lips tightened. "That will not please him."
"It never does," Ellios replied.
Jane reached out, hesitated, then adjusted the cuff of his sleeve—an excuse to touch him, to ground him. "Be careful today," she murmured. "There are eyes everywhere."
"I know."
Before either of them could say more, sharp footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"Master Ellios."
Alfred.
Marcus Blade's assistant approached, posture straight, expression politely severe. His eyes flicked briefly to Jane before returning to Ellios.
"The Old Master has been waiting," Alfred said. "You are late."
Ellios inclined his head. "I was with my sister."
Alfred's smile did not change. "Nevertheless."
Jane stepped back immediately, resuming her role, face impassive.
As Ellios turned to follow Alfred, he nearly collided with two women approaching from the opposite direction.
Veronica Blade sneered openly, her gaze sliding over Ellios with thinly veiled contempt. Beside her, Penina's smile was colder—measured, sharp, like a blade hidden in silk.
Neither greeted him.
They passed without a word, heels clicking against marble like gunshots.
Ellios watched them go, his expression carefully blank.
Marcus Blade's daughters.
Veronica—the elder, ambitious, ruthless. Four sons, each groomed from birth to take the seat that should have been hers by blood if not for chauvinism of Marcus. The Old man believed women can't lead hence his daughter now can only rely on their sons.
Victor one of his son, was her pride.
Penina—calculating, patient. Two daughters, one son. Subtler than her sister, but no less dangerous.
Both had tried to produce an heir worthy of their father.
Both had failed.
Because Marcus Blade had chosen him.
A distant relative. A boy pulled from ashes and streets. A name no one remembered who my father is.
Ellios clenched his fists as memories flooded in.
"I have a son," Marcus had once told him calmly. "Far away. When the time comes, he will inherit. Until then, you will hold the seat."
Not own it.
Hold it.
Protect him
Survive.
Ellios had lost count of the attempts on his life—poisoned drinks, staged accidents, hired killers. Each time, he survived.
Not because he was precious.
But because he was useful.
Marcus was strict. Brutal. Exacting.
But when Ellios excelled in business—when profits soared, rivals fell, and Blade Group expanded beyond projections—Marcus rewarded him with the position of CEO.
A throne with strings attached because he'll never leave him free.
Because Marcus Blade was Chairman of the Board of directors and the largest shareholder.
Because Marcus Blade planted spies in Ellios's companies, his home, his social circles.
Because Marcus Blade controlled the green water.
Ellios's thoughts churned as Alfred led him down the final corridor. Heavy doors loomed ahead, carved with the Blade crest.
They had already arrived.
Alfred stopped and raised his hand, knocking once.
"Come in," a voice answered from within.
Marcus Blade's voice.
Calm.
Absolute.
Ellios straightened his back, masked every trace of emotion, and stepped forward.
The door opened.