Chapter 6:Blood and Inheritance

A siren blared through the morning fog, slicing through the affluent hush of Ravenhill Lane like a war cry. Ella jolted from her sleep, heart hammering against her ribs. She rushed to the window, yanking the curtains open.

Two police cars, lights flashing.

One unmarked black van.

The front gates of the Monroe estate were wide open.

Adrian.

She flew down the stairs barefoot, ignoring the ache in her knees and the frantic pulse in her throat. Paul met her at the base of the grand staircase, already dressed, phone to his ear.

"They're here for security footage," he said grimly, shoving his phone into his coat pocket. "Someone tried to break into the company's server room last night."

"The headquarters?"

"No. The satellite branch. The one where Gideon's medical records were encrypted and stored."

Ella blinked. "Why would they target that?"

Paul hesitated. "Because Doreen's lawyers filed an appeal. She's claiming Gideon's death was a cover-up, orchestrated by Valeria and you to take over the company."

She nearly choked. "What? That's insane."

"Insane doesn't matter. If she spins the right story..."

Ella grabbed a hoodie and headed toward the door. "We need to talk to the detective. Now."

---

Detective Reese was a wiry man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper stubble and an expression that suggested he trusted no one—especially the rich.

"This footage," he said, pulling out a flash drive and inserting it into his laptop. "Was retrieved from a third-party security server Doreen's people must have hacked."

He clicked play.

The scene was dim but unmistakable: Gideon staggering into the dining room, clutching his chest, sweat pouring from his forehead.

Ella's stomach turned.

"No," she whispered. "That night—Valeria said he was sick with flu. The doctor assured us."

Reese froze the frame. "He was poisoned. Not a heart attack. Not the flu. Whatever Doreen gave him, it was disguised. The doctor's records were tampered with."

Paul rubbed his temple. "So the doctor—"

"Helped her cover it up, yes. But here's the twist," Reese said, leaning forward. "The altered records were not filed through Doreen. They were sent in via a third access point. Someone else was involved."

Ella frowned. "Who?"

Reese met her gaze. "That's what I intend to find out. But you need to understand something. This case isn't over. Doreen might be locked up, but she's orchestrating something bigger. We found a burner phone in her cell yesterday."

Ella felt the room tilt.

"What did it say?"

"Phase Two. Initiate."

---

By noon, the Monroe estate was in lockdown. Ella stood outside her father's private study with a locksmith and two security officers.

"Open it," she ordered.

"But Miss Monroe," the butler stammered, "Mr. Gideon's study hasn't been touched since his death. He explicitly requested—"

"And he's dead now," she snapped. "We're being hunted from the inside out."

The lock clicked.

The door creaked open to reveal a room sealed in dust and legacy. Bookshelves towered like sentinels. A decanter of untouched bourbon glimmered in the firelight. But Ella's eyes went straight to the desk drawer she'd seen her father use hundreds of times.

Inside, beneath layers of old correspondence and press releases, she found a red file marked: For Ella. Confidential.

Her fingers trembled.

She opened it.

Inside were photographs.

Medical reports.

DNA test results.

And a sealed letter.

She tore it open.

> My dearest Ella,

If you're reading this, it means I'm gone. I don't know how or when, but I feared this day might come too soon. There are things you don't know—things I never had the courage to say.

Doreen was not a mistake. I loved her. And for a time, I thought I would leave everything behind. But then I looked at you—at the girl I raised, who still believed I was a good man. And I stayed. Not because I didn't love her... but because I couldn't bear to lose you.

Adrian is your brother. But more than that, he is the symbol of all my failings and all my hope. Protect him. Guide him. And most importantly, trust no one—not even Paul. There are secrets buried in Monroe International. Secrets that could destroy everything.

Start with Project Lyra.

Love, Dad.

Ella clutched the letter, the weight of her father's secrets sinking deep into her bones.

Paul knocked lightly. "You okay?"

She slid the folder into her bag. "We need to go. Now."

"Where?"

"To Monroe Headquarters. I need to find out what Project Lyra is."

---

Inside the Monroe archives, the hum of electronics echoed against glass walls. Ella accessed her father's restricted files using the thumbprint lock he'd had installed for emergencies.

File located: Project Lyra

Password required.

She tried her birthdate. Denied.

She tried Adrian's. Denied.

She stared at the screen for a moment, then typed in a name she hadn't spoken aloud in years.

Amelia.

Accepted.

Paul looked over her shoulder as file after file loaded. Blueprints. Experimental designs. Licensing agreements.

"What the hell is this?" he whispered.

"It's a pharmaceutical project. My father was developing a cancer treatment drug... but it was also coded for genome modification. He was working on something controversial. Illegal, even."

Paul picked up one of the patents. "This compound... it modifies gene expression to prevent inherited diseases. This is groundbreaking."

"He didn't trust the board to handle it ethically," she murmured. "Which is why he buried it."

Suddenly, her phone rang.

Unknown Number.

She answered.

"You're in danger," a distorted voice said. "Doreen isn't the only one. The board knows about Lyra. And they'll kill to get it."

Click.

Ella turned to Paul. "We need to move Adrian. Now."

---

That night, as Ella packed Adrian's suitcase, he watched her from the doorway.

"Are we running away?"

"No," she said softly. "We're protecting what matters."

He nodded slowly. "I had a dream. About Dad. He told me to be brave."

She knelt down and hugged him tightly. "You are the bravest boy I know."

As they slipped out the back entrance into the waiting car Paul had arranged, a figure watched them from the shadows, camera lens glinting in the moonlight.

Inside a darkened room far away, Doreen stared at the surveillance feed with narrowed eyes.

"You think you've won, Ella? You're still playing by the rules."

She turned to her cellmate, now a paid accomplice.

"Tell our contact. It's time for Phase Three."