Rain slashes across the penthouse windows as I stand barefoot on cold marble, staring at the photograph in my hand. Me—laughing, arm-in-arm with Devin and Stella—at my father’s funeral. Back then, I believed they were family. Now, I remember how they chained me in the basement two weeks later.\n\nThe burner phone buzzes. A message: ‘He’s making a move on Westport Holdings.’ That’s mine. My father’s first investment. If it falls, his name dies forever.\n\nMy reflection stares back—older, sharper, unrecognizable. But the fire behind my eyes? That’s all Vivian.\n\nTwo paths flare in my mind: vanish again and build power in silence, or walk straight into Devin’s gala tomorrow and watch him choke on his own shock.