Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 332

**Chapter 332**

**AUTHOR’S POV.**

The words landed on Violet with the force of a slap, reverberating through her consciousness.

“There is no safe under that name in this bank.”

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For a fleeting moment, she stood frozen, her mouth agape, her eyes blinking rapidly as if her lashes could somehow alter the harsh reality surrounding her.

Her fingers curled tightly into fists, her nails pressing hard into her palms, a physical manifestation of the turmoil brewing inside her. The cashier regarded her with an expression that was stiffly polite, and that only served to amplify her distress.

Violet’s voice quivered slightly, betraying the rising tide of panic within her.

“I… I don’t understand. Please check again.”

It was a soft, strained plea, almost breathless—the kind of voice a person might use when they feel themselves slipping off the edge of stability.

The cashier’s initial impulse seemed to be to dismiss her, perhaps to offer one of those corporate apologies that felt more like a pat on the head than genuine concern. But then her gaze flickered up, landing on the two imposing figures standing behind Violet.

Lucian, with his stone-cold demeanor, was unreadable, a mask of icy composure that made the cashier’s throat constrict involuntarily.

Beside him, Ace loomed like a shadow, his muscular frame adorned with tattoos, his expression silently broadcasting a warning: ‘Don’t mess with us.’

The cashier swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation settling in.

“Alright… I’ll check again.”

Her fingers moved over the keyboard with a deliberate slowness, each keystroke more cautious than the last.

Violet’s heart raced as she tracked every movement, her chest tightening painfully, a dull ache blossoming beneath her ribcage.

The cashier paused, her fingers hovering above the keys, and then she looked at Violet directly.

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She glanced back at her screen, then shook her head slowly.

“I’m sorry. There really is no safe under that name. Perhaps it’s a different bank?”

Each word felt like a dagger to Violet’s heart, her insides recoiling in disbelief.

“It isn’t possible,” she whispered, shaking her head fervently. “It is this bank.”

Her voice cracked mid-sentence, and Lucian stepped closer, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the storm. He didn’t utter a word at first; instead, he gently grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him.

His voice dropped to a low, steady tone, the kind one might use to soothe a child on the edge of a meltdown.

“Think, Violet. Are you absolutely certain it was this bank?”

She nodded vigorously, her breath coming in shaky bursts.

“Yes. I’m sure. I… My mom only banked here. I remember coming here with her.”

She clung desperately to that memory, striving to preserve it amidst the chaos that had engulfed her life—the grief of her mother’s death, the near-abduction, the gunfire, the ever-present paranoia of being watched. Her mind felt like a foggy maze, yet this particular recollection stood out with clarity. Or at least she believed it did.

Behind her, the cashier hesitated again, her fingers dancing over the keyboard once more.

After a moment, she cleared her throat, breaking the heavy silence.

“There is an account with the name Ruby Gail…”

Violet’s heart leaped, hope igniting in her eyes.

“…but there is no safe registered under that name.”

In an instant, the flickering hope extinguished, leaving her in a suffocating darkness.

Violet blinked rapidly, struggling to maintain her composure.

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Her mother’s last words echoed in her mind, heavy with urgency, fear, and a tremor of desperation…

“The safe… Violet, the safe… you must…”

That memory was so vivid, so real. Why was this happening?

The cashier added gently, “Sometimes safes are registered under a different name. It’s a common practice for privacy and protection.”

That caught Violet’s attention like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters.

Her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat.

A different name.

Of course! Her mother had always been so cautious, almost painfully so. What if she had used an alias?

Desperate to voice her thoughts, Violet opened her mouth to plead for more time—

But Lucian noticed the shift in her expression. He stepped in, placing a steadying hand on her arm, his touch grounding her.

“We should go,” he said softly, his voice laced with reason. “We’ll return once we figure out what name she might have used.”

Violet looked between him and the cashier, torn between the desire to stay and the need to leave.

She didn’t want to walk away from the one thread connecting her to the truth about her mother’s death.

Yet Lucian’s voice resonated with a calm certainty that she lacked in that moment.

Slowly, she nodded, the weight of her decision settling heavily on her shoulders.

They turned to leave, but Ace remained behind, a silent sentinel.

Lucian noticed immediately, their eyes locking in mutual understanding. He gave a subtle nod—handle it.

Ace’s responsive nod was a promise—always.

Violet glanced back, confusion knitting her brows together.

“Is Ace not coming?”

Lucian didn’t hesitate.

“He just wants to tie up loose ends. He’ll be with us shortly.”

A flicker of mild horror crossed Violet’s face.

He sighed, sensing her distress.

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