Juliette's laugh rang through the hallway, light and effervescent as she looped her arm with Anastasia's, playing the perfect cousin. They spoke of random things—family gossip, dresses from the upcoming charity gala, the summer heat—and Juliet's smile never faltered.
Anastasia nodded occasionally, her lips moving automatically as her mind stayed far away from Juliet's words. She was thinking about how Juliette had reacted to the news , mirroring the normalcy Juliet so desperately projected. Her instincts, however, screamed otherwise. Something about Juliet felt different… something she had never paid attention to . But she didn't point it out , and just nodded.
Once back inside the Laurent mansion, Juliet excused herself with a small smile. "I have some business to attend to, Stassi .Let's catch up later, okay?"
Anastasia nodded, keeping her expression neutral with a smile. "Of course."
As Juliet disappeared down the corridor, Anastasia didn't waste a second. She walked briskly to her former bedroom, her hand steady as she opened her wardrobe. Her fingers danced across the inner panel until they reached a small, near-invisible keypad. She punched in the familiar code.
Click.
The wardrobe wall shifted with a subtle hum, revealing a small passage. Without hesitation, Anastasia stepped in and sealed it behind her.
The hidden room smelled faintly of aged paper and polished wood. She stood there for a moment, the soft hum of hidden lights flickering to life overhead. On every surface—desks, shelves, filing cabinets—were meticulously organized folders, blueprints, data drives, and old hardcopy files. A large glass wall screen flickered to life at her presence.
Her chest tightened.
Her father had built this room for her before she left for Harvard. Back then, she'd dismissed it as another eccentric move from her brilliant, overprotective father. But now, with everything crumbling, the pieces made sense.
She approached the glass table in the center and ran her hand over the surface without touching any documents. Her father's voice echoed in her memory.
"If you become the CEO, Anastasia, this room will show you everything you need to know. Everything the board doesn't even know exists. But not before then."
She didn't feel worthy—not yet.
Her gaze caught on a dusty old laptop resting on the corner. She picked it up and cradled it to her chest like it was a lifeline, then exited the room, sealing it behind her once more.
Back in her room, she flipped open the laptop and powered it on. The machine groaned to life, prompting her for a password she hadn't used in years. Her fingers moved automatically.
Access granted.
Line after line of confidential files lit the screen—financial statements, covert subsidiaries, shell companies that funneled money and controlled decisions from behind closed doors. None of the board members knew of this. Not even her mother.
Her father had trusted her. Even before she knew how deep the Laurent legacy went. Her throat constricted. Had he known something would happen to him?
She rubbed her eyes, exhaustion setting in. The answers were all here. And somehow, the secrets her father had tried to protect her from were becoming her burden.
Her phone rang, jerking her out of her thoughts.
Dante.
She stared at the screen for a beat before answering.
"What?"
His deep voice was calm but laced with command. "It's six o'clock. Come back to the Montgomery estate."
She scoffed. "Excuse me?"
"My wife doesn't sleep outside her home."
"I'm my own person, Dante. And I don't give a damn about that fucking contract we signed. You got what you wanted—you already made me your wife. What more do you want?"
Silence. Then the call ended.
She stared at the screen in disbelief before muttering, "Asshole."
With an exasperated sigh, she changed into her silk pajamas, grabbed a glass of wine, and flopped onto the couch. Then she texted Caroline.
Stasia: Tell me you've had a worse day than mine.
Caroline: I saw a man who is literally my perfect spec today. Tall, dark, rich-vibes. I think I dropped my ID in front of him by mistake, and now I don't even know if I should pray he finds me or forgets I exist.
Stassi: That sounds like a meet-cute from hell.
Caroline: Or heaven. But what if he's a mafia boss or something? Would Daddy still approve?
Stassi: Knowing your dad? He'd probably try to offer him a job.
She chuckled at the exchange, letting Caroline's drama calm her nerves.
After a while, she wandered outside, heading to the gazebo where her maternal grandfather, Hugo Laurent, often sat. It was their spot, from when she was a little girl. And tonight, she needed the comfort.
She found him already seated, gazing out at the manicured lawns in contemplative silence.
"You're quiet today," she murmured, sitting beside him.
"I'm old. I'm allowed to be."
"Not this kind of quiet," she said softly.
Hugo sighed.
"Is it because of uncle?" she muttered. "He didn't even say hello to you. Just came to check if we were ruined ."
"That's his business," Hugo replied, eyes on the horizon. "I gave him the company because I thought he could handle it. Thought I was doing the right thing."
She glanced at him, hearing the weight in his voice.
"But maybe I failed him. Maybe I failed you all," he continued. "Their mother, your grandmother died when Genevieve was born. I had to be a father and a businessman, and maybe I didn't do either well enough."
Anastasia reached over, resting her hand over his. "You did more than anyone could've."
For a moment, they sat in silence.
Then Hugo's tone changed, lightening a bit with mischief. "So… you're married, huh? That person you had dated in college is it Dante ."
She gave him a side-eye, laughing. "You never let things go."
"I knew it! Dante Montgomery—he was your college boyfriend, that makes some sense ."
She smirked. "Unfortunately."
Just then, they heard the soft crunch of gravel underfoot.
Both turned to find a sleek black car parked near the house. Dante stepped out, looking every bit the man of power he was, dressed in a black suit with no tie, his shirt open just enough to tease danger. His smirk was pure trouble as he approached.
Anastasia stood, arms crossed. "What are you doing here?"
Dante slowed his steps, shrugging. "I came to spend time with my wife. We just got married, remember? Distance isn't healthy for newlyweds."
Hugo stood too, eyes narrowed. "Just because I couldn't stop this marriage doesn't mean I'll let you walk in and disrespect her."
Dante chuckled lightly. "I'm not disrespecting anyone. I'm here for my wife. And I've decided—we're both sleeping in her room tonight."
Anastasia's eyes widened. "Like hell we are!"
She turned sharply and stomped toward the house.
Dante didn't move. Hugo stepped in his path. "Alex… why are you doing this to my granddaughter?"
Dante's smile faded. He looked away without answering, then walked past Hugo into the mansion.
Inside, he searched briefly before a servant directed him to Anastasia's room.
He knocked lightly before entering. She stood by the bed, hugging a pillow and grabbing a duvet. Without a word, she stormed past him, brushing his shoulder hard.
He chuckled. "Goodnight, Mrs. Montgomery."
The door slammed behind her.
Dante turned to look at her room—soft hues of lavender and cream, a shelf filled with books, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air. It smelled like lavender and something innocent.
But then his expression hardened.
He moved to her shelf, eyes scanning her books, her desk, her drawers.
He hadn't come here just for her.
No, Dante was searching for something else.
Something only Anastasia Laurent could have if she's the true heiress.