TWENTY
Levi
I frown at the two strangers after Seb disappears into the hall. The woman is seemingly more familiar than I would’ve expected.
After gathering some composure, I hear Iris groan—rubbing her temples. “Fuck. Um… everyone. This is Amelia Gill, my older sister. And her husband, Kabir.”
Amelia. Fuck, I remember her name from vague conversations I had with Iris, back when we were dating. I just didn’t know she’d be the complete opposite of Iris—leather-clad with a severity that I can’t place.
Instantly, the tall man behind her sister, the husband, smirks. “Thanks, li’l Iris. We could’ve introduced ourselves.”
Then he extends his hand toward me while Amelia rolls her eyes. Iris is simply grumbling beside them.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Levi Astor.” Kabir’s voice is chirpy, slightly accented. I would never assume that he didn’t do his homework.
I reluctantly shake his hand all while ensuring Cece isn’t freaking out. I’ve recognized she doesn’t do well with strangers—especially the unannounced ones.
“Likewise.” I give this tank of a man a firm shake. He’s shorter than Sebastian, but no less intimidating.
Who the hell are they? Their names ring a bell but I can’t seem to place them. I know Sebastian was once designated as a decorated hero a couple years ago, by the President of the United States. And there were a few others alongside him.
Jesus fucking Christ. Was Iris’s sister one of them? Are they all combat veterans like Sebastian?
“I see some realizations happening,” Kabir says, still smiling. “Don’t worry. We’re just here to help. Well… Amelia is—”
“I’ll be taking a long walk with Iris. Won’t we, my lovely sister.” Amelia’s face is stone, almost hardened to a practiced scowl.
“Fucking hell, Mellie—”
Iris is effectively cut off by her sister with a low voice. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare call me that, now would you?”
Iris rolls her eyes, shaking her head.
Amelia’s husband simply smiles in amusement as they walk out toward the exit—Iris, albeit reluctantly.
Then he turns his attention to my Cece. Who is surprisingly watching everything unfold with a slight hint of wariness. “Ms. Celestine Wentworth. But I hear you go by Cece.” Kabir shuffles on his feet and assumes a more relaxed posture.
“I do,” she says softly. “I’m not sure what you’re all doing here, though.”
My question exactly.
Kabir frowns. “I thought Seb would’ve told you. We work at Blackthorn Security. So we just… wanna help.”
“I think Sebastian said that you’re only here for the show,” I say deadpan.
He has the audacity to snort. But the man can snort all he wants because I can see the steel behind the charm. “Show, definitely. But things could go sideways regardless. I just wanted to offer my… support.”
I feel a twitch in my eye. Somehow, I don’t think his support is the moral kind, by any means. But he’s staring at us both like he expects us to understand his vaguely worded response.
Pleasantries done, we all walk back into the massive hall that hosts most of our board meetings. There are over thirty people present in person—while most others are joining remotely.
I watch as Cece quickly scans through the crowd, coming to the same conclusion as I am. The main shareholders are here, including a very uncomfortable looking Charles. If Sebastian is right, he’s been involved with the hive embezzlement—as Seb puts it—for decades alongside my father and uncle.
Cece stiffens slightly when she finds Gareth staring at her with a small smirk. I want to punch that little condescending expression off his face. Uncle or not, I’ve never felt this homicidal before.
Shaking the vivid imagery of him attacking Cece, I gently guide her toward her seat in the front row. My hand never leaving the small of her back.
Technically, Cece is only here in a representative capacity—given the Wentworth Group is affected by this emergency meeting.
I take my position at the podium, my gaze darting toward Sebastian who’s way in the back, Kabir right next to him. He gives me an imperceptible nod which I don’t return. His signal is clear—
It’s go-time.
After quickly ensuring that everyone is in attendance, I pretend to connect a random USB drive to the hall computer. But I know Sebastian has it covered already.
All I need to do is say a few words and the deck will take care of everything. I don’t know what follows but I suspect the hall will break into much louder murmurs than it currently is.
Silence follows when I subtly place both my hands on either side of the podium—a gesture meant to showcase my authority. But I can’t seem to get my heart to calm down.
Anything could go wrong. I could say the wrong thing. My parents could tactfully turn everyone against me, maybe even take me down with them. But isn’t that why that Kabir guy is here? He said he’d support, right?
Fuck.
Instead of spiraling again, I settle my attention on Cece. Who is staring at me with an unreadable expression—but I can see her eyes gleaming with pride. So I imagine her hand on my heart yet again and a quiet wave of calm washes over.
“Thank you everyone… for joining me at such short notice,” I say into the mic. “But there are some things that need addressing, and I didn’t want to do that via emails.”
“I barely check them during weekends, Levi,” I hear Daniel Penner’s quip, a familiar ease of humor in it. He’s one of the good ones.
I give him a quick smirk, gaze pinning on him in the third row. Trying my best to match his tone. “Well, my sincerest apologies for interfering with your Friday golf schedule, Daniel. But I promise I’ll make it worth your time.”
A soft rumble of chuckles follows which quickly dies when I clear my throat. “Alright. So, I’ve been made aware that Astor Holdings’ Capital Funds division has been under investigation.” The murmurs start low. “…by the federal intelligence agency.”
Well, if silence was what I thought I heard before, my words have quickly sent a ripple of discourse across the whole room. I can fucking hear the quickened breathing of the felons in the front row.
I steady my hands on the podium, willing the tremor in my fingers to vanish.
“After a full-scale internal audit, conducted by external and undisclosed agents,” I continue, keeping my voice even, devoid of the emotion searing my insides, “it was discovered that four members of our board are directly entangled in a decades-long hive embezzlement operation that has laundered over three hundred and fifty million dollars across subsidiary accounts globally—the actual figures are still unknown.”
A collective inhale breaks across the room like a snapped string.
My gaze sweeps the front row again, instinctively locking onto the only two faces I dreaded watching the most.
My mother stiffens first. Her jaw clenched so tight I can see the pulse ticking at the edge of her temple. She’s giving me that motherly, reprimanding glare that is supposed to shut me up.
My father stares at his own hands like they’ve been dipped in someone else’s blood. Pale. Trembling. Unmoving.
And Gareth—fucking Gareth—he’s lost all color. But somehow, he still manages to twist his neck and glare at Cece with a contempt so acidic it scalds something primal in me.
If he looks at her like that again, I swear to God—I will leap this fucking podium and drive his skull into the goddamn wall.
But I don’t.
Because I’ve waited too long for this moment. We’ve waited too long.
I take a breath—ignoring Charles, who has dropped his head into his hands. My gaze flicks back to the rest of the room, a sea of confusion. Muted murmurs mounting under their breath.
“This has been going on for over forty years,” I continue. “Under our noses. Wrapped in the comfort of legacy and generational trust. But today… we will end it.”
That’s when the wall behind me shifts.
The mechanical whir of the screen rising breaks through the hush.
Gasps cut through the air, sharp.
A digital cascade of documents—transfers, falsified records, flagged routing codes—flashes in rapid succession. Until finally, the screen settles on four faces, crystal clear.
Gareth Astor.
Odette Astor.
Thomas Astor.
Charles Gaither.
Their titles are listed below. Their percentage shares blinking beside each name.
The boardroom detonates into chaos. Chairs scrape. Voices rise. Someone slams their fist into the table.
Questions shout over questions, indistinguishable noise crashing down like a wave of glass.
I instinctively look toward the back of the room—where Seb and Kabir had been.
Gone.
My stomach flips as I catch sight of them again—now near the entrance, backs against either side of the double doors. Subtle. Controlled. Watching. But what catches my attention is their hands… hovering near their waist.
Jesus.
I snap my attention to Cece. She’s still in her seat, but I can see the way her knuckles have whitened around the armrest. Her jaw trembles slightly every time the volume in the room spikes.
She flinches when someone screams behind her shoulder, “This has to be doctored!”
A chair topples somewhere in the chaos.
I move fast.
Fuck the rest of the short speech.
I abandon the podium and cut through the noise. My eyes don’t leave her. Just as I reach her, ready to crouch down and shield her from the hell storm that’s been let loose—
The double doors swing open.
Four suited, armed men enter first—broad, unreadable, stepping with deliberate authority.
And then behind them, six agents in full combat gear push in, bearing the unmistakable sheen of government-issued firearms and black tactical vests.
Silence doesn’t fall, it implodes. A sharp scream slices the room. It takes me a heartbeat to recognize it.
Odette. My mother.
“THIS IS A LIE!” she screeches, voice shrill with indignation. “This is a frame job! I’m being framed! I didn’t do this. It was only Thomas. Not me. I… Levi… tell them. LEVI!!!”
I’ve never heard her this utterly unhinged before.
She’s halfway out of her seat, flailing, before two agents flank her and she stumbles back, almost tripping over her heels.
I drop to my knees in front of Cece. Her wide eyes meet mine. “Hey,” I whisper, curling my arms around her, pulling her tight to my chest. “You’re okay. I didn’t know it’d go down like this, but I’ve got you.”
The room is still screaming. My mother is losing her mind. My father and Gareth seem to be having a silent conversation with each other. Charles is shaking in his seat.
All I can hear is Cece’s shallow breath against my neck. My own heart racing. But from the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a firearm, in the hands of someone who absolutely should not be possessing it.
A shot.
A scream.
A transient silence.
And then—the quiet click of a dozen safeties unlocking.