I almost smiled.
They were terrified I might steal a blueprint.
They had no idea that the documents capable of changing everything had been sitting only a few rooms away for years.
I walked toward the large oak bookshelf beside my drafting table and pushed it aside.
Behind it was a gray biometric safe mounted into the wall.
I pressed my thumb to the scanner and entered the code my late grandmother, Nana Rose, had taught me long ago.
The light turned green.
The safe opened.
There was no jewelry inside.
No stacks of cash.
Nothing Eleanor would have considered valuable.
I had never cared much about expensive objects.
What I cared about was documentation.
I removed a thick manila folder tied with red string.
Then an encrypted hard drive.
Finally, an old envelope containing a photograph of Nana Rose.
Inside the folder were original incorporation documents connected to Vanguard Architects.
There were copyright records tied to the earliest designs for Riverbend Commons, one of the company’s largest projects.
There were photographs and copies of documents showing exactly what I had signed—and what had later appeared under my name.
There were also financial statements documenting transactions that had never been properly explained to me.
One sheet of paper meant very little.
Together, they told a story.
And that story was not the one Julian’s family had been telling for years.
A hard knock hit my office door.
“Leah, open up!”
Mila.
“Mom told me to make sure you’re not taking anything!”
I unlocked the door.
The moment it opened, Mila’s eyes moved past me, searching the room.
“What took you so long?” she demanded. “Are you planning to dismantle the whole company before you leave?”
I looked at her calmly.
“Relax, Mila.”
I lifted the folder.
“What I’m taking is mine.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re being incredibly condescending.”
“I’m simply adjusting to our new relationship.”
I pulled my suitcase into the hallway.
Then I carried everything downstairs.
Eleanor was already waiting by the front entrance with her arms crossed.
“Open the suitcase.”
I placed it on the rug and unzipped it.
Inside were several professional outfits.
My personal laptop.
My passport.
Nana Rose’s photograph.
The encrypted drive.
And the folder tied with red string.
Eleanor glanced inside and scoffed.
“I thought you were hiding corporate secrets upstairs.”
She pointed toward the folder.
