The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 61

Chapter 61 Stopped Bowing

Cryl

The Vex Industries conference room was on the forty–second floor, a glass cube that looked as if it was suspended in the sky. It was as if it was a deliberate choice. There were no cozy corners, any plants or art on the walls. Just a long slab of black marble for a table, severe chairs, and a breathtaking, dizzying view of the city that made visitors feel very small and very exposed.

Elera arrived an hour early. She wore tailored black trousers, a cream silk shell, and a sharply cut blazer. It was the uniform of a professional CEO, of a person who belonged in this temple of cold power. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek knot. The only jewelry she wore were the simple teardrop diamond studs she’d had for years, and her wedding band.

She stood at the window, her hands clasped loosely behind her back, watching the toy cars crawl along the streets below. Frost had swept the room twice. His team was in the adjacent rooms, monitoring every frequency. Drakonius was not here. He was back at the cliff house, connected via a secure video feed to a monitor that was currently dark in the corner of the room. His presence was a phantom in the wires being the silent witness. He had offered to come with her but she had told him no. This was something she needed to do alone.

Well, not entirely alone.

The door opened widely. Her aunt Margaret scurried in, clutching a large, clumsy accordion file folder to her chest like a shield. She looked tiny and lost in the vast, minimalist space, a sparrow that had flown into a turbine engine. She was dressed in a fussy floral dress and a cardigan, her eyes wide with awe and anxiety.

“Oh, Elera,” she breathed, her gaze darting from the view to her niece. “This is… my goodness. This is quite a place.”

“Aunt Margaret.” Elera walked over, her heels clicking on the polished concrete floor. She did not offer a hug. She took the file folder from her aunt’s trembling hands. It was surprisingly light. “Thank you for coming. Please, sit.”

Margaret perched on the very edge of one of the monolithic chairs, looking like she might slide off. “I brought the most important papers. The letters from the lawyers, the last two years of grant allocations, the board minutes… Kieran said those were the crucial ones.”

“Where is my father, Aunt Margaret?” Elera asked, her voice calm as she set the folder on the table without opening it.

When it opened again, it was not just her father that walked in. Frost was behind him, he was like a silent imposing shadow. Kieran Nethys strode in, trying to project an air of wounded authority. He had clearly dressed for the part–a somber, expensive suit, a tie the color of a bruise. But his eyes were darting, taking in the room, the view, the cold power it represented. He looked, for the first time in Elera’s memory, unsure of his footing.

“Elera,” he began, his voice was like a practiced blend of warmth and reproach. “Thank you for seeing Margaret. I know this is difficult-”

“Sit down, Father,” Elera cut him off, her tone leaving no room for argument. She gestured to the chair at the far end of the table, directly opposite her. It was a deliberate distance.

He hesitated, thrown by her command. Frost took a single step forward, and Kieran quickly sat.

“I’ve reviewed the foundation’s crisis,” Elera said, tapping the folder with one manicured finger. She hadn’t. opened it. She didn’t need to. She’d had Frost’s team pull the actual financials and legal filings the night before. “It’s not a legal entanglement. It’s an embezzlement. A slow, careful siphon of funds from the research grants into a shell corporation that lists you as the sole signatory.”