Chapter 193: Secrets Beneath the Oak
Inside the Lawrence Council chamber, the air was suffocating. "This is a joke!" Oliver, one of the elders, slammed his hand on the mahogany table. "Victor may have given the order, but core family affairs cannot be handed to a woman of impure blood who is still under suspicion!"
"Agreed," another elder sneered. "How do we know she isn't a spy for Marcus?"
Ryan was about to snap when Evelyn squeezed his hand. She stood up and tossed a thick stack of design drafts onto the table. The room went silent.
"You don't care about my blood. You care about profit," Evelyn said sharply. "Marcus’s scandal dropped your stock by seven percent in three days. You don't need a pure-blooded puppet; you need a way to fix your image."
She pointed to the drafts. "This is my 'Rebirth' series for the group’s luxury brand. I’ve already contacted three top fashion magazines. If you refuse, I’ll take these to your competitors. You can calculate how much more your stocks will drop then."
The elders looked at the designs, their contempt turning into greed. The commercial value was undeniable. "A trial run might not hurt..." the neutrals began to murmur.
Oliver sat back, unable to argue with the logic of money. "Session adjourned! We will discuss this later."
The meeting paused. Ryan was cornered by elders wanting to discuss trust funds and birth records. "Wait for me here," Ryan whispered, kissing her forehead.
Once he was gone, Evelyn’s composure crumbled. She pulled Madeline’s diary from her bag and flipped to a hand-drawn map. It was a sketch of the estate’s gardens. In one corner sat a massive tree with a note: Secrets are buried under the old oak.
She slipped away, avoiding guards, and found the massive oak in the autumn mist. Kneeling in the dirt, she used a broken branch to dig into the frozen ground. Her nails tore, but she didn't stop. Finally, she hit something hard.
She pulled out a rusted tin biscuit box and stuffed it into her bag.
"Enjoying the gardening?" A voice dripping with malice came from behind.
Camilla was standing five yards away, staring at Evelyn’s muddy hands.
"Just getting some air. I tripped," Evelyn said, trying to stay calm.
"Tripped?" Camilla stepped closer. "And happened to dig a hole? Evelyn, I’m not an idiot. Hand over what you found."
"It’s personal property," Evelyn retorted. "If you have questions, ask Ryan to search me."
Camilla’s face twisted at the mention of Ryan. "Don't use Ryan against me. In this house, people can have 'accidents' without the police being called. Your son is sleeping, isn't he? Children are so prone to accidents."
"Try me," Evelyn said, stepping right into Camilla’s space. Her eyes were terrifying. "If a single hair on Elias is harmed, I will take you to the grave with me. Do you want to bet?"
Camilla flinched. Evelyn brushed past her and headed back to the house. As she walked, a corner of yellowed paper with red ink peeked out of her bag. Camilla’s eyes narrowed.
Back in her room, Evelyn locked the door and shoved a chair under the handle. She washed the dirt from her hands and opened the tin box. It smelled of age and mold. Inside were no jewels—only a stack of oil-skin notebooks and black-and-white photos.
One photo showed a young Madeline with a man. Behind them was a blurry figure watching—it looked like a much younger Bernie.
Evelyn opened the notebook. It was full of accounts and codes. At the top of every page was the terrifying "Twin Snake" emblem. This was a ledger for a secret organization. On the last page, the writing was frantic:
There is a mole in the family. He is watching me. His code name is 'Thorn'. Be careful—no one is clean.
"Thorn?" A chill ran down Evelyn’s spine. If the mole was still here, perhaps even close to Ryan...
Knock. Knock.
A faint sound came from the door. Evelyn slammed the notebook shut. The lock didn't move, but she saw a flicker of shadow beneath the door. Someone was crouching there, watching her through the gap.