Chapter 87: Mayer Comes Calling

Cora must have drifted off at some point, because the soft click of a door jolted her awake.

Someone had opened her bedroom door…paused…and then closed it again without coming in.

—

In the study, Julian booted his laptop the moment he got back.

Austin’s call came almost immediately. “Mr. Watson, I sent everything you asked for.”

“Got it.” Julian hung up, opened the inbox, and clicked.

He froze.

On his screen, two photographs sat side by side—two faces that were, impossibly, the same.

“How is that even possible?” he murmured, fingertips grazing the glass. “How can they look exactly alike?”

Austin had worked fast. Off one hint from Dina, Julian had told him to pull everything on Liam Mayer. Buried in the dossier was an “incidental” note: Liam had a fiancée—now deceased—who was the spitting image of Cora.

Austin had thought he was seeing things. He wasn’t.

Her name was Qara Davis, twenty-three at death—the Davis family’s eldest daughter. Sickly from childhood, engaged to Liam four years ago, and gone at twenty-one from an illness no one could stop. Afterward, the Davises wound down their holdings and moved across the country to a quiet town to grieve.

Austin had included Qara’s brief biography. Even Julian, who prided himself on being hard to impress, felt a sting of what a waste as he scrolled.

Qara, with Cora’s features, wore an entirely different air—wildflower in a hidden valley, pure and untouchable. Though her life had frozen at twenty-one, she had already won a slate of international awards. One of her canvases had sold overseas for over ten million dollars. Eight languages. Music, painting, literature—talent that looked effortless.

No wonder the university had once called her a once-in-a-generation goddess.

Next to Qara, Cora was…a duckling in street dust. Sensitive. Clumsy. Too easy to bruise.

Clouds versus mud—if there had to be a metaphor.

So Liam approaching Cora wasn’t random at all.

Julian’s eyes cooled. His fingers tapped the desk, slow and hard.

Does that little idiot have any idea?

Is Liam chasing her because she looks like the dead girl? For what? To fill a grave with a ghost?

And that photo—Julian’s jaw tightened. He’d dug into Liam’s last two years. After Qara’s death, the man’s life had been obsessively clean. And now he shows up in Lindon City out of nowhere?

Coincidence didn’t exist at Julian’s altitude.

—

Morning light brushed the curtains when Cora blinked awake. The clock read a little after eight. She shot upright.

Work.

She’d taken time off; that was over. Her mother was finally clear of the Dev family, but she hadn’t saved a cent. And sooner or later, Cora would leave the Watsons—leave the house, the name, the corporate badge that came with both.

If she was going to stand on her own, she needed money in the bank.

She showered quickly. Her personal assistant knocked, peeked in. “Mrs. Watson, your schedule?”

“Workwear,” Cora said, then hesitated. “Julian…?”

The pause betrayed her. She hated that it did.

“Mr. Watson already left for the office,” the assistant said carefully. “Do you want to rest a few more days?”

“I’m fine.” Cora took the neatly matched outfit and changed. Her palm lingered at her lower belly—still flat, the muscles already softening. Soon it will show.

Breakfast, then the car. The Watson Group tower rose, mirrored glass slicing the sky. Cora swallowed her nerves and stepped into the lobby, thumb hovering over the elevator call.

“Cora!” a voice sang out behind her.

She turned—and blinked. “Riley?”

Since the night everything had exploded, Cora hadn’t seen her. Riley adjusted her blazer over a frankly outrageous G-cup silhouette and smirked. “Banished by my boss to spectate.”

“Your boss?” Cora frowned. “Didn’t he already sign with Jule?”

“He did.” Riley sighed theatrically. “I’m here purely for the show. And don’t tell me you don’t know Liam Mayer is in the building.”

Cora’s blank look made Riley roll her eyes. “Right. You’re not supposed to worry about company drama. You just stay cute and keep the baby safe.”

Something about seeing each other at their worst had unknotted the distance between them. The barbs were friendlier now, laced with the ease of co-conspirators.

“I’ve been out on leave,” Cora said, then, “What’s Liam here for?”

Riley, vice president at Audeis (Odysseus) Capital, would know more than most.

“Partnership talks,” Riley said, dropping her voice as they stepped into the elevator with their assistants. “Do you have any idea who the Mayers are?”

Cora shook her head.

“Their rise wasn’t just Liam’s genius,” Riley said. “They also have reach—deep reach—inside the establishment.”

Cora’s face stayed politely blank.

Watson Group had always stayed clean—intentionally outside domestic political and defense circles. It was a rule that went back generations. Julian spent most of his time overseas for a reason.

Riley pressed on. “Liam’s grandfather is still in office. Does that translate?”

“Not really.”

Another eye roll. “How is Julian married to someone this clueless? Fine—short version: Liam’s a private-sector shark, but his clout isn’t measured in money alone. When he does deals, people weigh two things—his business muscle and his political gravity. Get it now?”

Click. Cora understood.

The Watsons had ties too—just not here. International threads, not domestic ones. That sensitivity kept Julian’s family pristine on home soil. Cora agreed with that legacy.

So why invite the Mayers to the table?

Was Liam’s visit a blessing—or a fuse?

Riley’s smile turned sly. “That’s exactly why my boss sent me. I want a front-row seat for two empires colliding. Sparks guaranteed.”

Cora didn’t share the smile. A pebble of dread dropped into her stomach.

The elevator chimed. They headed down the executive corridor. Julian’s assistants stood when they approached.

“Mr. Watson asked that you both go straight to the conference room.”

Riley quirked a brow. “Look at Julian, predicting the future.”

Cora answered with a small, neutral smile.

They knocked and entered.

“Good morning, Mr. Watson. Mr. Mayer.” Cora kept her voice soft.

Riley tipped her chin. “Gentlemen.”

Liam returned the greeting with polished courtesy. Julian’s gaze slid to Cora—cool, brief—then shifted to Riley.

“You’re interested in this too?” he asked.