The Night a Silver Locket Shattered the Mercer Family’s Perfect Silence

They barely made it back to the West Wing. Hayes couldn't pursue them without alerting Julian's private security, forcing him to retreat.

Sitting on the floor of Leah’s massive bedroom, Mateo plugged the silver flash drive into his laptop. Code scrolled across the screen, followed by thousands of offshore banking records.

"We got her," Mateo breathed, his eyes wide. "Leah, this is it. Over sixty million dollars siphoned from the Mercer charity foundations into shell companies owned by Eleanor’s brother. This is twenty years in federal prison."

Leah let out a shaky breath, leaning her head against Mateo’s shoulder. For a brief moment, the adrenaline faded, leaving only the warmth of his presence. "We show this to Julian in the morning. Before the DNA test."

Mateo looked at her, his gaze intense. "You're incredibly brave, you know that?"

Before Leah could reply, her cell phone vibrated violently on the nightstand.

It was Maya.

Leah frowned, checking the time. 3:30 AM. She answered the call. "Maya? What's wrong?"

"Leah!" Maya’s voice was hysterical, drowned out by the piercing shriek of sirens in the background. "Leah, I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened!"

"Maya, calm down, what is it?" Leah stood up, her blood turning to ice.

"The shop!" Maya sobbed. "It's gone, Leah. Somebody threw a brick through the window and threw Molotov cocktails inside. Claire’s Petals is burning to the ground."

Leah dropped the phone. It clattered against the hardwood floor.

Mateo was by her side in a second. "What happened?"

"My shop," Leah whispered, tears finally breaking free. "My mother's shop. It's on fire."

She didn't need to guess who did it. Eleanor wasn't just trying to protect her money anymore. She was sending a message. I will burn down everything you love.

Leah sank to her knees. The flower shop was the only physical piece of her mother she had left. The counter where Claire had taught her to cut stems, the smell of damp earth and lilies, the faded sign out front—all of it, turning to ash.

Julian, awoken by the commotion, rushed into the room in his pajamas. Seeing Leah on the floor, he hurried to her side. "Leah? What’s wrong?"

Mateo quickly explained what happened. Julian’s face darkened, a terrifying rage settling over his features.

"I will buy you ten flower shops," Julian vowed, holding her.

"I don't want ten shops!" Leah cried, the grief transforming into a blinding, white-hot anger. "I wanted my shop! I wanted my mother!"

She pulled away from Julian, wiping her tears aggressively. She looked at the laptop screen, glowing with Eleanor’s financial ruin.

"She thinks I'm weak," Leah said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm. "She thinks because I grew up poor, I’ll run away when things get violent." She looked up at Julian, the Mercer fire burning in her gray eyes. "Cancel the private DNA test tomorrow."

Julian blinked. "What? Why?"

"Because if she's bribed the lab, she'll control the narrative in private," Leah said, her strategic mind working at lightning speed. "Call the press. Call the board. Throw a gala tomorrow night at the hotel. We are going to announce me to the world, live on television."

"Leah, if she tampers with the results on live television, you’ll be humiliated globally," Mateo warned.

"I know," Leah said, a dangerous smirk forming on her lips. "I want her to think she's won. I want her to stand up in front of the cameras and present her fake DNA test. Because right after she does... we are going to project these embezzlement ledgers onto the wall."