Eliza stood on the upper balcony of the mansion, her arms resting against the marble railing. The sky stretched out before her in a soft wash of lavender twilight, serene and quiet—too quiet.
Then came the wind.
A violent gust ripped across the estate, sending paper lanterns swaying and whipping her dark hair across her face like a warning.
Her eyes narrowed.
A chime rang in her ear.
> "Approaching signatures confirmed. Cassian Vale and Seraphine Vale. ETA: thirty seconds. No entry request detected. Shall I activate air defense systems?"
The AI's voice was crisp, composed.
Eliza stiffened. "Permission denied."
She turned from the railing, her silk robe catching on the wind behind her like a banner of war. Barefoot, she moved swiftly down the spiral stairwell. Each step echoed like a countdown—her breath measured, like someone preparing for battle.
By the time she reached the first floor, they were already inside.
Of course they were.
And there they sat, as if they owned the place.
Cassian Vale, polished and smug, was examining her mother's antique vase like it was a market trinket. His long obsidian coat gleamed under the chandelier, lined with steel trim—tailored to perfection, just like his arrogance. Blond hair brushed back, gloves on, charm weaponized. The same smirk he wore at Virele's funeral curled across his face.
Beside him, Lady Seraphine—ever pristine in a blood-red suit—sipped from one of Eliza's heirloom teacups. Legs crossed. Perfect posture. Pretending, as always, that she belonged.
Eliza halted at the threshold, her gaze hard and cold.
"What the hell are you doing in my house?"
Seraphine gently placed the cup back on its saucer with mechanical precision. "Our house, darling. If you're going to accuse us of trespassing, at least brush up on the family codes. Or did grief make you forget how to read?"
"I can read just fine," Eliza shot back, stepping into the room. "And I can smell a lie the moment it walks through my front door."
Cassian chuckled low. "Still sharp. You really are Virele's daughter."
The name made her spine tighten.
"You leeched off my mother while she was alive," Eliza said, arms crossed. "And now you're here to scavenge what's left."
"Correction," Seraphine said coolly. "We're here to protect what's left. Virele trusted us—"
"She didn't trust either of you!" Eliza snapped.
Cassian raised a brow, saying nothing, but the twitch in his jaw gave him away.
"I'd rather burn down everything she left behind than let you touch a single inch of it."
Her voice cracked like a whip.
"You're just parasitic bastards in designer coats."
Cassian's gloved hand froze mid-glide over the chair. His smirk faded. The room went still.
"Excuse me?"
"You think you belong here?" Eliza stepped forward. "You think just because the queen is dead, the vultures get to take the throne?"
"I don't need a throne," she continued coldly. "I just know how to deal with bloodsuckers."
Cassian's jaw clenched. "Careful. I fought beside Virele when you were still learning how to spell your name."
"Helped?" Eliza sneered. "You mean like spending twenty-four billion credits of her funds on private warships to gather support from her army? Because of you, her legacy is bleeding out."
Seraphine finally stood, her heels clicking against the marble. Her voice dropped to a silken threat.
"According to the will, I'm entitled to five percent of the Virele holdings. Yet I've received less than two. That isn't justice. That's theft."
"You're not entitled to anything," Eliza growled. "That five percent isn't just money—it's connected to the family's inner branches. It includes relics like the Emperor Void Jade."
Cassian's gaze sharpened.
"So she does know," Seraphine murmured.
"Of course I know. I know what my mother built. I know how you're trying to twist it into your own private army. I know about your talks with the Fallen Sky Sect."
Cassian flinched, just slightly.
"Careful with your accusations," he said, voice low now. "The Elder Council won't protect you forever. They'll strip you of what you have—just like you stripped us."
Eliza's lips curled. "Let them try. If anyone threatens what my mother built, I'll burn them from the roots. I don't care if they're family."
Cassian snorted. "Big words, coming from someone still stuck at Affinity Level."
"Still bigger than your conscience," she shot back.
Cassian exhaled mockingly. "Grief makes people irrational. You should take time off. Let us manage things in the meantime. Heal."
"You mean loot the vaults while I rest?"
Seraphine's smile dropped. "You ungrateful little—"
Eliza didn't raise her voice, but the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
"You think I don't know how many enemies Virele made?" she said quietly. "She built an empire on the bones of tyrants. You think they'll just let me inherit it?"
She met Seraphine's eyes without flinching. "I'm not stupid. But I'm not a coward either."
"You've got her eyes," Seraphine said softly. "But none of her mind. You're too emotional."
Eliza tilted her head. "Maybe. But at least I'm not a leech dressed in red."
Cassian gave a low whistle. "This is getting out of hand."
"You think I've been sitting idle since her death?" Eliza's voice was calm, deadly. "You think just because I haven't flexed my strength, I don't have any?"
Seraphine arched a brow. "Is that a threat, little heiress?"
"No," Eliza said. "It's a warning."
Seraphine let out a faint laugh. "How charming."
"Listen closely," she continued. "You're sitting on top of one of the most dangerous treasures on the continent. The Emperor Void Jade alone could start a war. You think a few loyal mercs and your ragtag team will keep that safe?"
Eliza didn't blink. "Try me."
Cassian studied her a moment longer. Then he turned.
"Come, Seraphine. Let the little heiress play queen a while longer."
Seraphine adjusted her gloves. "Let her learn how heavy the crown really is."
They moved toward the door.
But before they reached it, Eliza's voice rang one last time.
"Next time you trespass into my home, I'll have your clothes stripped and your faces plastered on every street corner."
Cassian paused at the doorway and looked back, smile gone.
"I hope you remember that when your world starts to collapse."
And then they were gone.
Eliza stood alone, fists trembling—not from fear. From fury.
Her mother had built this empire with blood and brilliance. And now the vultures were circling. But they had no idea who they were dealing with.
A soft chime broke the silence again.
> "Incoming call from the Elder Council," the AI said.
Of course.
Eliza lifted her head, staring at the grand chandelier above. Her jaw set.
Virele's death had shaken the pillars of the empire. And already, the serpents were clawing through the ruins. She should've expected this. Family or not, all they saw were credits and crowns.
Blood ties meant nothing when power was on the table.
There would be no forgiveness. No hesitation.
Only fire and iron.
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