Alliances Forged, Shadows Deepen
The hospital corridors held a silence so complete it seemed to press against the skin. Only the distant hum of machines and the soft shuffle of nurses broke through the tension hanging thick in the air. Walter Ashford lay in critical care, caught in that fragile place between life and the fading echoes of it. His collapse had brought the Ashford family together under one roof, but unity was merely an illusion—shadows of rivalry and ambition still curled beneath every glance, every whispered conversation.
Eleanor Ashford watched it all with calculated calm.
Walter's heart attack had changed the battlefield. Every scheme she had poised to unleash—especially the meticulously crafted plan to frame Ethan—was now temporarily shelved. With the patriarch incapacitated, the family's power structure was shifting, unpredictable. Eleanor knew better than to strike while the world was still trembling. No, she would wait. She would adapt.
And she would strike when no one expected it.
A New Angle of Control
With Walter bedridden and the company's immediate future uncertain, Eleanor pivoted toward a new source of influence: marriage alliances.
If Ethan had somehow slipped out of her control…
If Walter had begun seeing him as heir…
Then Eleanor needed another foothold. Another pathway to power.
And so she turned her attention to Lila Sinclair.
Soft‑spoken, bright-eyed, and beloved by her mother Olivia, Lila embodied everything that society adored. Eleanor wasted no time arranging gentle collisions between Lila and Matthew—dinners, charity events, afternoons in manicured gardens. She orchestrated it all like a silent symphony.
Matthew, desperate to redeem himself after his father's disastrous confession, allowed himself to be pulled into his mother's current. Lila, charmed and flattered, found his earnestness unexpectedly sweet.
It was the perfect image.
The perfect distraction.
The perfect trap.
But Eleanor's ambitions were never confined to romance alone.
The Proposal of Desperation
The company's financial crisis tightened like a noose. In the wake of Walter's collapse and her husband's shocking revelation, Eleanor sought to secure the Ashford future at any cost.
She approached Olivia Sinclair with a proposal wrapped in silk and poison.
"Our families have always been intertwined," Eleanor said with gentle persuasion. "A merger between our companies could secure both legacies. It may be the only way forward."
Olivia listened, polite but guarded. She had long since learned that Eleanor's smiles hid razors.
Still, the danger facing both companies was undeniable. Olivia promised to raise the idea with her husband—but kept her true fears locked behind her composed exterior.
Because Eleanor Ashford was moving too quickly.
Too confidently.
Too desperately.
And desperation was dangerous.
A Shadow with Teeth
But Eleanor's ambition didn't stop with mergers or marriages.
Not even with manipulation.
The idea that Walter might awaken, might speak, might redirect the family's destiny toward Ethan—toward the boy she had never accepted—was intolerable.
In the quiet of the night, Eleanor conceived a plan far darker than anything she had dared before.
If Walter Ashford survived…
He would ruin her plans.
If he died…
She would rule uncontested.
Her intent sharpened into something cold and final.
But someone else saw what Eleanor was becoming.
A Warning in the Dark
Olivia Sinclair had always been a master at reading people. Graceful. Keen. Patient. She noticed the way Eleanor lingered by Walter's hospital door too long. How she asked nurses unnecessary questions. How her eyes followed the medical equipment with calculating interest.
And Olivia's blood ran cold.
She went straight to Ethan.
"You must get him out," she whispered urgently, gripping his hand. "Tonight. Eleanor means to do harm—worse than sabotage, worse than rumours. If Walter stays here, he will not survive."
Ethan's heart pounded.
He had spent his whole life fighting shadows.
But this shadow carried his adoptive family's name.
"Can we move him?" Ethan asked.
Olivia nodded. "I've already arranged everything. A private clinic with tight security. My people will help. But you need to be the one to go with him. Eleanor must not know."
Ethan didn't hesitate.
That night, under the cover of darkness, a team of private medics transferred Walter out of the hospital. No alarms. No paper trail. No witnesses but those chosen by Olivia.
When morning came, Walter's hospital bed was empty.
And Eleanor learned the truth only when she arrived with her poison disguised as concern.
The patriarch had vanished.
Her plan had unraveled.
And Ethan became, in her eyes, the most dangerous threat she had ever underestimated.
Eleanor's Fury
Back in her sitting room, Eleanor paced before the tall windows as rain streaked down the glass. Walter's disappearance gnawed at her composure. No nurse, no doctor, no family member could give her answers.
But Eleanor already knew.
Ethan.
He had grown defiant.
Resourceful.
Protected.
Connected.
He had removed Walter from her grasp—and that made him an enemy she had to destroy.
Her mind turned cold, sharp, ruthless.
He would pay.
But not with scandal.
Not with dismissal.
Not with a whisper campaign.
No.
With blood.
The Accident
Eleanor arranged everything discreetly. A mechanic bribed. A car tampered with. A series of phone calls that left no trace. Ethan's death would appear tragic, random, unavoidable—a cruel twist of fate.
What she could not predict was this:
Matthew, eager to mend bridges after years of silence, joined Ethan that morning for a simple drive across town.
Two brothers.
Finally talking.
Finally laughing.
Finally building something that might have been family.
As the car wound through the hills outside the city, a sudden jolt rattled the chassis.
"The brakes—" Ethan began.
The pedal sank to the floor.
Nothing.
The car screamed across the asphalt.
"Hold on!" Ethan shouted.
The world spun.
Metal tore.
Trees splintered.
Glass exploded in a storm of light.
When everything finally stopped, the only sound was Ethan's ragged breathing.
He crawled from the wreckage, vision swimming.
"Matthew—Matthew!" he shouted, tearing through twisted metal.
Matthew lay crushed beneath the collapsed frame, blood streaking his face, breaths thin and trembling.
"Stay with me," Ethan begged, cradling him. "Please. Stay with me."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Matthew's eyes fluttered.
"…Ethan… I'm sorry…"
His voice faded.
The Shockwave
The news hit the Sinclair estate like a thunderclap.
Olivia sobbed uncontrollably.
Tyler nearly collapsed.
Guards rushed to prepare the car.
And Eleanor—
Eleanor froze.
She had wanted Ethan dead.
Instead, she had nearly killed her own son.
A thin, twisted thread of regret curled in her chest—cold, hollow, but real.
Yet even this would not stop her.
Grief only sharpened her desperation.
Because now fate had made the game brutal.
And Eleanor Ashford would not lose.
Not now.
Not ever.