Chapter 157 Adeline

Chapter 157 Adeline
Adeline's POV 

I watched Alex move close to Zara on the couch so she could rest her head on his shoulder. It was sweet, but it was not what I wanted to dwell on at the moment, not when we have bigger fish to fry.

The charred scrap of silk felt like a brand against my palm. I stared at the blackened edges, the physical proof that Ilya Kozlov wasn’t just a ghost in our nightmares, he was a predator waiting for the sun to set so he could be shameless in the dark.

Percy’s penthouse was a fortress, but the air inside felt like it was running out. Zara was still trembling under the weight of the blanket Alex had wrapped around her, the gold of her dress dulled by the dust of shattered glass.

We had unmasked Sterling, but Ilya had just proven that he could reach into the most crowded place on Earth and touch us whenever he pleased, and that thought was a painful one.

"He’s playing with us." I said, my voice cutting through the heavy silence of the living room. I looked from the charred note to Percy, who was standing by the balcony doors. He looked like he was about to spring up. "He’s letting us have the show so he can remind us how much power he has in hiding."

"He won't get another chance," Percy rasped. He didn't look at me at all, his eyes were fixed on the Manhattan skyline as if he could spot Ilya’s hiding place by sheer force of will. "Alex, Silas, double the detail. No one breathes near the sisters without a background check that goes back three generations."

"Locking us in won't stop him, Percy," I countered, walking toward him. The twins kicked then. I winced, but he didn't see me. The pain was a sharp reminder of what was at stake. "He wants us scared. He wants us to hide so he can pick us off when we’re isolated. We need to do the opposite."

Zara looked up from the sofa, her eyes wide and rimmed with red. "The opposite? Adeline, he just shot a steel bolt at my head. I could have died."

"And the world saw it," I said, turning to her. "The media isn't calling you a fraud anymore, Zara. They’re calling you a survivor. They now know that we are being set up by a madman. If we go into hiding now, we are letting him control the narrative again."

"What do you suggest we do, then? Continue as if there's nothing wrong?"

"No, there's actually something else we can do. We can come clean."

"We've done nothing wrong, baby," my husband said.

"No, I know, but if we go live, if we stand in front of the world and show them exactly who he is, we turn his own shadows against him."

"You want to do the DNA test now?" Alex asked, his hand tightening on Zara’s shoulder. "After a direct hit?"

"I want to do more than a DNA test," I said as I got the clarity of what I wanted. "I want a televised execution of their lies. No soft interviews. No emotional sit-downs. I’m buying thirty minutes of airtime on every major network. We’re going to present everything, we’re going to name Richard Sterling’s crimes, and then we’re going to let the world watch the results of the test be read in real-time."

"Okay, that might actually work." Alex agreed. 

Twenty-four hours later, the penthouse was transformed. The living room now looked like a set. I could have easily invited a reputable journalist to conduct the interview, but I wanted the truth to come from our home, on our terms.

Rowan Crawford was in the corner, clutching a sealed envelope from the most prestigious lab in the country, his usual smugness replaced by a grim professional respect. My opinion of him was changing gradually.

Percy stood behind the camera while Alex was at the door, his eyes never leaving the monitors.

"We’re live in ten," the producer whispered.
I looked at Zara. She was wearing a simple, high-necked black dress with no jewelry. And I wore a similar gown, but mine drew attention away from my stomach.

I took her hand, our fingers interlacing.
"Ready?" I whispered.

"Ready." She replied in a steady voice. 

"Good evening, New York," I said, looking directly into the lens. My voice was the one I used in the court. "My name is Adeline Volkov-Akilov. Beside me is my sister, Zara Whitmore. For the past few weeks, you have been fed a narrative of fraud, greed, and staged identities. " I paused, letting the weight of the words settle. "Tonight, that narrative ends."

For the next fifteen minutes, I talked about everything that went down. I pulled up the audit results Rowan had uncovered. I showed the wire transfers Richard Sterling had signed in 1999. I showed the link between a founding partner of Royal & Associates and the kidnapping of a three-year-old girl.

"Richard Sterling didn't just leak documents," I told the millions of people watching. He funded a kidnapping to break a family and steal from a company. He used the Kozlov Syndicate to erase me from existence, and when I returned, he used them again to try and erase the truth."

The chat feeds on the side monitors were scrolling so fast that I couldn't keep up, but I knew they were in our favor. 

"And now," I said, turning to Rowan Crawford. "The final piece of the puzzle. Mr. Crawford, the results of the independent, court-admissible DNA comparison between myself and Zara Whitmore."

Rowan stepped into the frame. He opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

"Based on the genetic markers analyzed," Rowan read in a clear tone. "The probability of Adeline Volkov and Zara Whitmore being together is 99.99%. They are, without a shadow of a legal or biological doubt, the same blood."

I felt Zara’s hand squeeze mine so hard it hurt and the camera zoomed in on that moment. 

"Ilya Kozlov," I said, leaning toward the camera, my eyes burning with a fire that scared even me. "You spent twenty-six years trying to keep us apart. You spent the last week trying to burn our names, but you forgot one thing about the Whitmores and the Akilovs."

"My sister and I have been through so much differently in the last year. We just want to be left alone so we can each pursue a fulfilling life. Ilya Kozlov has brought so much grief and sadness into our lives. He has made us bring our personal business to the public. This is your last warning, Ilya Kozlov."

I stood up, pulling Zara with me so the viewers could see the resemblance clearly. 

The red light on the camera went dark, and the producer gave us a thumbs up to show that we were done.

"The broadcast hit its mark," Alex said, his voice grim. "But Silas just picked up a signal. Ilya’s main compound is in the docks. It’s being purged. He’s moving, Adeline. He knows he can't use public opinion anymore, so he's going for the only thing he has left."

"Total war," Percy finished. Ilya was finally coming out to play.