2. Theodore
2
THEODORE
W hen my brothers return to the estate later that night, having both missed the party, I show them the brunette who caught my attention.
“ I had a background check done. Her name is Isabel Lucia Soto .”
“ She went upstairs with Montclair ?” Julian’s tone is sharp, his dark brows furrowing as he leans in closer.
“ She did,” I confirm, tapping the screen to play the clip. Isabel follows Montclair into one of the private rooms, her movements hesitant but curious. The way she scanned the room during the party, the way her gaze lingered on the staircase before she followed him—it wasn’t fear. It was intrigue.
“ She looks sort of familiar,” Julian murmurs, more to himself than to us. He grabs his phone, his fingers moving with ease as he types something.
Maxwell studies the screen, his jaw tightening. “ Montclair’s a reckless fool. Bringing someone like her to the east wing during a party? He’s lucky she didn’t see something she shouldn’t.”
“ She didn’t,” I assure him. “ She left before anything happened.”
Julian raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
I press play on the footage again. “ Watch .”
The screen shows Isabel standing by the window, her arms crossed as Montclair leans in closer, speaking to her in a low voice. She doesn’t look frightened, just wary, her gaze flicking toward the door, as if debating her escape. He corners her onto the bed, and that’s when her expression changes to fear.
Then , suddenly, the door bursts open. Another woman storms in, her blonde hair a wild halo around her furious face. It’s the friend I saw her with earlier in the evening— Valeria Estrada .
The footage is grainy, but even without sound, Valeria’s anger is palpable. She steps between Isabel and Montclair , shoving him back with enough force to make him stumble. Montclair’s hands shoot up in mock surrender, but she doesn’t back down. She’s pointing toward the door, her protective stance unmistakable.
Isabel looks stunned but relieved as Valeria grabs her arm and pulls her out of the room.
Julian lets out a low whistle as the footage ends. “ Didn’t expect that.”
“ Neither did I ,” Maxwell admits, a smirk tugging at his lips. “ Looks like Montclair bit off more than he could chew.”
Julian’s eyes narrow as he studies me. “ You think they’re going to be a problem?”
“ Not yet,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “ But the mermaid might be.”
Maxwell raises a brow. “ She looks harmless.”
“ She works as an investigative reporter for The Black Quill ,” I reply.
The Black Quill is Ebonridge’s one and only media outlet.
Julian snorts. “ So ? We’ve dealt with reporters before.”
“ She’s already digging,” I add, leaning forward. “ She also started poking around places she has no business being. If she uncovers something—anything—it won’t just be a personal issue. It could blow up in our faces.”
The people of Ebonridge are blind to the truth of what happens at these parties. To them, the Whitmores are just a powerful family, a name that carries weight and influence. They see the glitz, the glamour, the social gatherings, never suspecting the bloodshed, the manipulation, the rituals that lie beneath. To the town, we are nothing but a legacy built on wealth and charm.
“ Both of them have been digging where they shouldn’t. Isabel might look like she stumbled into this, but no one like her just stumbles into anything,” I add.
Maxwell runs a hand through his hair. “ So what are we dealing with here?”
“ We’re dealing with two women who have more curiosity than self-preservation. And the longer they’re here, the more likely they’ll find something we don’t want them to.”
If someone were to uncover even the slightest hint of what really goes on in this house, it wouldn’t just be a scandal—it would be a frenzy, the kind that would rip through the town like wildfire. People would want answers, the town would want blood, and the last thing we need right now is the population turned against us, especially not when we’re already walking a thin line trying to break free from our father’s hold.
“ We need keep a closer eye on them, then,” Julian says matter-of-factly.
“ Exactly . Especially our little siren.” The corners of my mouth pull into a small, knowing smile.
Isabel is a threat, but she’s also a potential asset, depending on how we play this.
We all know the goal is to dethrone our adoptive father from the empire he built, end the legacy of fear and control that he’ll leave behind.
However , that’s the tricky part.
We want him gone, but we can’t afford to lose everything in the process. Our reputation is all we’ve ever had. If we want to take control, we can’t be painted as the villains in this story. We must play it carefully. Isabel might be our ticket, but if she digs too deep, she could become the spark that burns it all down.
Julian suddenly stiffens; his eyes fixed on his screen. “ I knew it.” A frown spreads across his face as he turns it toward us. “ You’re gonna want to see this.”
I take the phone from him, my eyes narrowing at the image. It’s Isabel , wearing a fitted uniform and balancing a tray of drinks, her brown hair tied back. The backdrop is unmistakable: Vanguard .
My head snaps toward him. “ She works at the club?” I ask in disbelief.
Julian nods, leaning back in his chair. “ Waitress . She’s been there almost a year. Quiet , professional, keeps her head down. But something about her…” His voice trails off, and I know exactly what he means.
“ That didn’t show up in the background check,” I huff.
“ That’s because Isabel Lucia Soto isn’t the name she’s been going by.” Julian rests his elbows on the table. “ She has been working under the pseudonym Margot Vale .”
Julian oversees the club’s patronage, so he’s aware of who comes in and out.
I narrow my eyes. “ You’re telling me she’s been under our roof this entire time?”
Julian shrugs. “ I guess so. When I saw her on the footage, I recognized her despite the Halloween makeup. It was enough to make me look into the club’s employee records.”
Maxwell exhales and tilts his head. “ And you’re sure it’s her?”
“ Positive . You can’t hide from someone who knows what to look for,” Julian replies.
Maxwell lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “ Theo , you’re the Head of Council . You never noticed her? Vanguard should be your second home.”
“ Funny ,” I retort, tossing Julian’s phone onto the table, “coming from someone who spends most of his nights holed up in his nightclub.”
Maxwell’s smirk falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers with a shrug. “ At least I show up. You’re the ghost of Vanguard .”
Julian scoffs, but I ignore them both. It’s true. I rarely set foot in Vanguard anymore. As Head of Council , I’m technically required to oversee its operations, but the reality is, I only show up for the monthly meetings. Those are always after hours, when the place is empty save for select senior staff.
I simply don’t have the time. Between running Vanguard Systems , our cybersecurity firm, and negotiating the acquisition of a lucrative business venture, the club has fallen low on my list of priorities. It is stable, profitable, and self-sufficient. That’s all that matters. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.
But now, Isabel is disrupting that carefully managed order, a variable I didn’t account for.
Maxwell crosses his arms. “ Anyway , what’s the move now?”
“ We keep her close enough to never slip through the cracks again.”
Julian smirks, though there’s an edge to it now. “ I’ll make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. After all, no one gets in or out of Vanguard without me knowing.”
“ And we’ll figure out what she’s really doing here, because there’s no way she stumbled into this by accident,” I add, my voice low. “ She doesn’t seem to shy away from danger. She’s drawn to it.”
“ That makes her a liability,” Maxwell says.
“ No ,” I correct him. “ That makes her an opportunity.”
“ Once she’s in, there’s no going back,” Maxwell retorts. “ She’ll have blood on her hands just like the rest of us.”
I nod. “ She’ll either play along or bury herself trying to escape.”
My mind races through the possibilities. Isabel seems bold, resourceful, and unpredictable. If we play this right, she could be the perfect tool to bring down Father .
“ Trust me—by the time we’re done with her, she’ll be exactly where we need her,” I state.
Julian exhales sharply, running a hand through his short hair. “ This is a dangerous game, Theo .”
“ That’s the only kind we play, brother,” Maxwell retorts, a sneer tugging at his lips.
The three of us sit in silence for a moment, the weight of our plan settling over the room. Outside , the wind howls, rattling the windows of the guest house. The Whitmore mansion looms in the distance, its glowing windows a constant reminder of the power we’re about to seize.
Isabel has no idea what’s coming.
“ And it’s exactly why she’s perfect,” I add, locking eyes with my brothers. “ She has the fire we need.”
Maxwell gives a skeptical look. “ For the plan, or for you ?”
The corner of my mouth twitches, but I don’t rise to his bait. Instead , I turn my attention back to the screen, rewinding the footage to the moment Isabel first caught my eye. Her bold red lips and the defiant glint in her eyes drew me in like a moth to a flame.
“ You both feel it,” I say, my voice insistent. “ You feel that pull.”
Julian smirks, reaching for his glass of bourbon. “ You’re not wrong. She’s …fascinating.”
Maxwell remains silent for a moment before finally nodding. “ She has potential.”