The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 17

Heiress He Underestimated

At home, she went through the motions. She unpacked her suitcase, the innocent clothes feeling like costumes from a play that had just closed. She took a long, scalding shower, scrubbing at the memory of Xan’s touch, the smell of his cologne. Only when she was wrapped in a thick robe, her hair damp and her skin pink, did she allow herself to truly think.

She went to her secret room, not the lab, but her personal command center–a cozy, book–lined study hidden behind her bedroom wall. Here, there were no medical scanners, just banks of monitors, a powerful computer, and walls covered in notes and blueprints. This was the brain of her operation.

She pulled up the file on Drakonius Vex. She stared at his picture, at those storm–gray eyes. Call if you need to.

She needed to work. Action was the only antidote to the lingering feeling of contamination.

She opened a new document. Project Phoenix: Phase One. It was her plan for the transition, for disappearing from Xan’s story and reappearing in Drakonius’s. It involved digital footprints, alibis, the careful orchestration of public perception. It was complex, but it was a problem she could solve. She lost herself in the details, in the clean logic of cause and effect.

Hours later, a different kind of alert chimed softly. It was from the system monitoring her Nethys Medical empire. A flagged report. She opened it, frowning.

It was a financial analysis. A pattern of small, sophisticated cyber–attacks on their research and development servers. Attempts to access files related to regenerative medicine and gene therapy. They had been stealthy, bouncing through proxies, but her security AI had flagged the persistent pattern. The attacks had begun… three days ago.

Right after her first meeting with Drakonius.

A cold that had nothing to do with her shower seeped into her bones. She cross–referenced the data. The digital fingerprints were obfuscated, but the timing was suspect. Was this him? Was he not content with their deal? Was he trying to steal her research, to find a cure for himself without needing her as a wife?

The doubt was a poison, tainting the memory of his voice in the dark. Had it all been another act? A longer, more patient con than Xan’s?

Just then, her personal phone buzzed. A text. Not from Xan.

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