Chapter Twenty-Four
Crown
Simone remained in surgery for six hours.
I spent every minute outside the operating room.
My mother sat across from me. Asha and Noelle remained on either side of her while Micah paced near the windows.
Dorian had taken Rochelle and Imani to be examined.
Jayla sat beside me.
Our shoulders didn’t touch, but her hand rested beneath mine.
Nobody mentioned it.
The surgeon entered shortly after sunrise.
“The bullet damaged part of her liver, but we controlled the bleeding.”
“Will she live?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Noelle began crying.
My mother covered her face.
The surgeon continued discussing recovery times, potential complications, and follow-up treatment. I heard enough to understand that Simone would survive.
Nothing else mattered yet.
When the doctor left, Nia moved toward me.
“May I hug you?”
I looked at her.
For seventeen years, I had imagined her returning. In most versions, I embraced her. In others, I demanded an explanation before allowing her into my home.
I had never imagined needing time to decide whether I wanted my mother to touch me.
“Not yet,” I said.
Pain crossed her face.
“All right.”
She stepped back.
Respecting the boundary didn’t erase her absence.
It was a beginning.
Micah approached.
“The archive release was stopped, but Lenora copied a portion before Simone shut down the system.”
“How much?”
“Approximately twelve percent. Financial records, Clay’s files, and part of Victor’s network.”
“Victim identities?”
“No. Jayla was right about the constellations. Evelyn created separate encryption for those.”
Jayla looked up.
“So innocent people are protected?”
“For now.”
“What about the people named in the released files?” Asha asked.
“Three judges resigned overnight. Two officers disappeared, and federal authorities arrested Clay while he tried to leave the country.”
“Jayla’s charges?”
“Dropped,” Asha answered. “Kenzie’s statement and Agent Harper’s testimony proved the warrant was compromised.”
Jayla released a breath.
“What about Malachi?”
Everyone looked at me.
Asha opened her legal folder.
“The murder recording remains admissible if prosecutors authenticate it. The investigation into Victor’s death has been reopened.”
“I admitted what I did.”
“To us,” Jayla said. “Not to law enforcement.”
“I’m not allowing somebody else to take responsibility.”
“Nobody asked you to.”
“You want me to lie?”
“I want you not to volunteer for prison before your attorney speaks.”
Asha pointed toward her.
“Listen to my future sister-in-law.”
Jayla and I became still.
Asha glanced at the ring missing from Jayla’s hand.
“Bad timing.”
“Very,” Jayla answered.
The birth certificate had changed the way we moved around one another.
The DNA results said we shared no blood.
My body had accepted the relief before my mind could process it.
That guilt remained.
Simone was my sister. The woman I once viewed as Celeste’s daughter had been stolen from our family and raised inside our home without anyone recognizing the truth.
“Did Lenora know the birth certificate would make us believe Jayla was Sebastian’s child?” I asked.
“Yes,” Micah answered. “The document was designed to separate you.”
“It worked,” Jayla said.
I looked at her.
“For several hours.”
“It still worked.”
She removed her hand from beneath mine.
I immediately missed it.
Asha cleared her throat.
“There’s another problem.”
“Of course,” Micah muttered.
“Julian scheduled an emergency shareholder session. He’s using the archive release to justify selling Devereaux Maritime.”
“To whom?” I asked.
“A private holding company registered in Malta.”
“Lenora.”
“That’s our assumption.”
“When is the vote?”
“Five days.”
“Can I vote?”
“You’re suspended.”
“My mother?”
Everyone looked toward Nia.
Her shoulders stiffened.
“I’ll vote against the sale.”
“You voted against me yesterday,” I said.
“She had Rochelle.”
“You thought she had Rochelle.”
“I believed her.”
“That has become a recurring family problem.”
Nia accepted the insult without defending herself.
Asha continued.
“If Nia reverses her vote, Julian may challenge her mental competency.”
“Exactly what Victor did,” Jayla said.
“Yes.”
“Then we need proof Lenora coerced her.”
“The hospital cameras may have captured enough.”
“No,” Nia said.
We looked at her.
“There’s another way. Lenora records everything.”
“Where?” I asked.
“The winter garden.”
Of course.
My father had spent his final year beneath it. Lenora met Julian there. Every path led back to the same place.
“She built a private archive inside the lower level,” Nia continued. “It contains original recordings, communications with Julian, and evidence showing how Bishop’s network operates.”
“Why tell us now?”
“Because I spent too many years allowing fear to choose for me.”
“Where is the entrance?”
“Behind Sebastian’s memorial.”
My father had a memorial inside the winter garden while his actual death remained hidden beneath it.
Appropriate.
“Lenora will expect us,” Dorian said.
“Yes,” Nia answered.
Jayla turned toward me.
“You aren’t going today.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“I’m not the one who almost snapped Grant’s neck.”
“He deserved it.”
“Probably. Still.”
I stood.
Jayla stood too.
The hallway moved slightly beneath my feet.
She folded her arms.
“Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You nearly fell over.”
“The floor shifted.”
“The hospital was built on land, Malachi.”
Micah snorted.
I glared at him.
He became quiet.
Jayla pointed toward the chair.
“You cannot control a raid while hallucinating moving floors.”
“I’m not hallucinating.”
“Sit.”
I did.
Everyone looked at us.
“What?” I asked.
Noelle smiled through her tears.
“Nothing.”
Jayla sat beside me again.
“We rest,” she said. “Then we plan.”
“You decided that alone.”
“Yes.”
“That is controlling.”
“It’s protection.”
I looked at her.
She smiled innocently.
Apparently, I had created a monster.
Simone woke that afternoon.
Only Malachi and family, the nurse told us.
For once, nobody questioned whether Jayla belonged.
We entered together.
Simone looked small beneath the hospital blankets. Nia stopped near the door, afraid to move closer.
Simone’s eyes found me.
“Did Lenora get away?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry.”
“You stopped the release.”
“I also helped her steal the keys.”
“We’ll discuss your poor decisions after you heal.”
Her mouth moved faintly.
“That sounds like you.”
I sat beside the bed.
“Did you know who you were when Celeste was alive?”
“No. Lenora contacted me after Mom died.”
She glanced toward Nia.
“Celeste was my mother.”
Nia’s eyes filled, but she nodded.
“Yes.”
“She loved me.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to be jealous of that.”
“I’m grateful she gave you what I couldn’t.”
Simone looked at me.
“Do you hate me?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I don’t have the energy.”
“Malachi.”
“You were manipulated.”
“I still made choices.”
“Yes.”
She waited.
“I understand loving the person who raised you while being angry about their lies,” I said. “I understand wanting revenge badly enough to stop recognizing yourself.”
“You stopped.”
“Eventually.”
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
Her tears slipped sideways into her hair.
“I don’t know how to be your sister.”
“Neither do I.”
Noelle approached the other side of the bed.
“We’ll be terrible at it together.”
Micah nodded.
“Asha will create rules.”
“I heard that,” Asha said.
Simone looked toward Jayla.
“You saved me.”
“You took a bullet while saving us.”
“I pointed a gun at you.”
“Everyone around Malachi has done that eventually.”
Dorian raised his hand from the doorway.
“True.”
I ignored him.
Simone’s expression became serious.
“Lenora is planning something bigger than selling Maritime.”
“What?”
“The Founders’ Convocation.”
The annual gathering brought New York’s oldest criminal and political families into one secured location. This year, Julian had insisted on hosting it inside the restored winter garden.
“When?” I asked.
“The night of the shareholder vote. Lenora intends to lock everyone inside and release the complete archive.”
“Why gather them first?”
“She wants confessions. She plans to broadcast the guilty turning on one another.”
“And the victims?”
“She doesn’t care who dies anymore.”
Jayla squeezed my hand.
The final conflict was no longer about recovering my company.
Lenora intended to burn every family connected to Victor.
My father’s secrets had started the war.
We would have five days to end it.