ut firm. There was an important document, he

. It was Julian's domain, filled with the scent

ed his briefcase, retrieved a thick folder, a

are transfe

al directive from Matriarch Eleanor Carlisle, upon confirmation of her pregnancy, five per

e the size of Carlisle's,

explained. "She wants to ensure that you a

e. The fortune wasn't for her; it was for the fictional

ed her name once again. Each stroke of th

dropped by, her words ca

l over town is that once the baby is born, Julian will let you go 'gracefully.' And then Dev

o produce an heir, then hand the prize to Devon. And the purp

ipped her tea, her face a placid mask. Her la

th to Eleanor. The matriarch valued bloodlines,

suffered a mild heart attack and was resting at a pri

until Eleanor was strong enough to handle

nance from the butler. If she was going to be a prisoner, she would be an educated one. She

er in the library. A flicker of surprise crossed his fa

ge arrived. The

phone and a new SIM card. A note was attached: Use

ould finally communicate freely

ising star in tech," attending charity galas and forums, often with Julian by her side. The

othing. She was simply collecting evi

mp" grew more prominent under the loose-fitt

inner, the head butler

e returning from the

her fork. The moment she had b

y of her bedroom, his eyes sharp. "Grandmother is co

aze, her expression unreadable. In the