Chapter 32 - The Blood Partition
Sophia walked up our terrace steps with the casual grace of an empress entering an antechamber. Two stone-faced bodyguards flanked her, their eyes sweeping past Marcus’s drawn gun as if he were an inconsequential decoration.
"Back off," Lauren snarled, stepping in front of me. Even with her postpartum exhaustion, the feral protectiveness in her stance was unmistakable. "We buried Vivienne Dubois. We burned her empire to the ground. If you think you can take our children or our father’s name, you’ll find out exactly what Mercer blood does to scavengers."
Sophia stopped three paces away. She slowly pulled off her right glove, finger by finger, revealing a white scar tracing the palm of her hand in the exact shape of the crescent birthmark I carried on my wrist.
"Vivienne Dubois was an ambitious peasant playing with borrowed silver," Sophia said, her voice entirely flat. "She thought she was buying a dynasty. She never understood she was merely a leasing agent."
Sophia gestured slightly with her gloved hand. Her aide stepped forward and placed a heavy, leather-bound folder on the outdoor stone table. It was stamped with the same falcon seal Father had hidden in the secret compartment.
"Father did not run away to protect you from Vivienne," Sophia explained, looking directly into my eyes with an unnerving, unblinking intensity. "He stole you. Thirty-two years ago, the Saint-Germain Trust funded the genetic preservation of three bloodlines. Our family was contracted to produce one heir to control the Continental Sovereign Reserves. Instead, Mother gave birth to triplets."
My chest heaved. "He saved us."
"He stole two-thirds of the Trust’s equity," Sophia corrected, not an ounce of emotion in her tone. "He fled into the public sector with the two weaker fragments, hiding you in plain sight under a bankrupt identity. And he left me behind to bear the debt of your absence."
She leaned in, and I could smell the faint scent of bitter almond and bergamot radiating from her.
"For thirty years, while you two were playing at middle-class lives, falling in love, and crying over domestic betrayals, I was subjected to the Trust’s academy. I was trained to dismantle sovereign debts, orchestrate currency collapses, and purge liabilities. The Trust allowed Vivienne to hunt you because they wanted to see if the bloodline had softened."
"And now?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain rock-steady despite the terror vibrating in my bones.
"You proved you have teeth," Sophia whispered. "Vivienne failed the trial. You survived. Which means under the Saint-Germain Charter of 1794, the partition is over. The Trust does not tolerate splintered lineages."
"What do you want, Sophia?" Lauren demanded.
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Sophia tapped the leather dossier with a manicured fingernail.
"I am here to claim the Mercer seat. And under the Trust's succession clause, every asset, every account, and every child born of Mercer blood must be surrendered to the high estate. You have forty-eight hours to pack your bags and hand over the nursery keys, sisters. Or I will turn every bank, court, and law enforcement agency on this hemisphere against you."