"I saw the news—those vultures!" Emma's normally gentle voice had risen an octave.
"Just say the word and I'll personally ensure Saint Junior never reproduces," Alisha had threatened, her tone deadly serious despite the absurdity.
"Is he actually doing anything about this?" Amanda had demanded.
I'd stepped into the hallway, glancing back at Ares hunched over his laptop, jaw set in determination as he fired off another email. "He's been on the phone with his lawyers for hours," I'd assured them. "He's handling it."
"He better be," Alisha had muttered. "Because if he doesn't fix this, I know where he sleeps now, and I own very sharp scissors."
The fierce loyalty had made me laugh despite everything. My friends are the best weapons I have in this fight—loyal, fierce, and completely terrifying when provoked. By the time I'd convinced them not to show up at my door with wine and baseball bats.
"For the reporters, Bella, not for Ares... unless he deserves it", I'd felt stronger somehow. Fortified.
By late afternoon, Gran's diaries surround him as he methodically works through each one. The sight of him there, sleeves rolled up and totally absorbed in uncovering his family's secrets, hits me with stunning clarity. This is love. Not the desperate, consuming passion of our youth, but something deeper, stronger. Love in its purest form—this man who's willing to tear down everything he's known, to face his own demons, to uncover painful truths about his family, all while refusing to let me face the fallout alone.
The realization should terrify me. Instead, it feels like coming home, like finally admitting what my heart has known all along. I love him. The boy he was, the man he's become, and every complex layer in between. And maybe that's what gives me the strength to keep painting, to keep fighting—knowing we're in this together, both of us facing our own battles but choosing to do it side by side.
"Red?" His voice breaks through my concentration. "Come look at this."
I set down my brush, curious about the urgency in his tone. He's leaning forward, one of Gran's later diaries open before him.
"What did you find?"
His finger traces a passage dated just a month before she was fired. "Listen to this:
I found something unsettling today. Went to clean Mr. Saint's office, thought I heard voices. When I opened the door, Jacob Wells was behind Theodore's computer, muttering numbers under his breath. He didn't notice me at first—too focused on whatever he was doing. The moment he saw me, though, his whole demeanor changed. Smiled too bright, too quick.
'Just running a security check, Mrs. Jenkins,' he said, but his hands were shaking as he gathered some papers. 'Mr. Saint's orders.'
I've worked here long enough to know when something's not right. Told him I needed to dust the desk, and he practically leaped away from it. 'Of course, of course. But Mrs. Jenkins?' His voice dropped, lost its fake cheeriness. 'Best not to mention this to anyone. Security protocols, you understand. Wouldn't want anything... unfortunate to happen.'
After he left, I found a paper he'd dropped in his hurry. Lists of word like ‘omega’ en different numbers, account codes maybe? Letters that look like initials. S.G.V appears several times. I kept it. Its tucked away safe. Working in this house, I've learned sometimes it's wise to hold onto things. Just in case."
"Holy shit." Ares runs a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. "Wells was the one who had it—the document my father was looking for."
"But what was he looking for on your dad's computer?" I ask, trying to make sense of it all.
"I don't know, but it must be something big for him to risk it. My father's office was a no-go zone without his explicit permission, and it's clear by Wells' reaction that he was there unauthorized." Ares shakes his head, brow furrowed. "He was head of security, but even he wasn't allowed behind my father's computer. That was an absolute rule."
His eyes meet mine, intense with realization. "Your grandmother kept the document my father was missing, but Wells was the one who stole it."
"If she wrote about this, she must have written about—" I start, my mind racing.
"Exactly." Ares flips through the pages frantically until he lands on an entry from two weeks later. "This is it."
“July 15th - Theodore summoned me to his office today. Not a casual request, but a formal demand delivered through his assistant. My hands trembled as I knocked on his office door. The moment I entered, I felt it—something had shifted in the air between us.
"Mrs. Jenkins," he said, so coldly I nearly shivered. "I'm missing a very important piece of paper. Did you happen to see or find a piece of paper, with my handwriting…while cleaning my office?"
The paper Wells dropped flashed in my mind immediately. Those strange numbers and initials. I knew instantly this was what Theodore was searching for, what had him so agitated. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stood there, feeling the weight of that folded paper hidden in a safe spot.
I don't understand why I lied. The words simply formed themselves: "No, sir, I did not."
His eyes narrowed, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. I've never felt so transparent, so vulnerable. When he finally dismissed me, the knot in my stomach had grown to the size of a fist.
I realize now that I've trapped myself. Having denied finding anything, I cannot now produce the paper without revealing my lie. And lying to Theodore Saint would be dangerous indeed. Something is terribly wrong here. I pray things return to normal soon, but I can't shake this feeling of dread. Whatever that paper contains, it matters deeply to him. And now, God help me, it belongs to me."
"Okay. But this incident doesn't explain why your mom set me up with the jewelry."
