Chapter 187: Fractures in the Game.

Chapter 187: Fractures in the Game.
Eleanora

I stepped out of the visitation room, the faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzing over my head as I adjusted my coat and rubbed my arms. It wasn’t particularly cold in here, but something about the place always gave me chills that settled into my bones. Maybe it was the silence. Or maybe it was the memory of Dario’s voice still echoing in my ears.

Don’t forget what we’re doing this for.

I let out a quiet exhale through my nose, brushing a hand over my forehead. My heels clicked lightly against the concrete floor as I started toward the exit—then stopped midway, glancing around the hallway. Right. The bathroom.

I turned down a narrow corridor off to the left, pushing open the door to the visitor’s restroom.

Inside, the lights were dimmer. There was a long mirror stretching across one wall and a sink that never stopped dripping. I leaned forward, bracing both hands on the edges of the sink, and stared at my reflection.

My lipstick was still perfect. Hair tucked behind my ears, gold earrings glinting beneath the overhead light. On the outside, I looked calm. Polished. Elegant.

But inside?

I was fraying.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I knew what this was. I’d agreed to it. Strategized it. Every lunch with Aurora, every shared laugh, every story about childhood dreams and late-night fears… all of it was supposed to be part of the plan. Gain her trust. Get closer. Secure the inheritance. Keep Leonardo off-guard.

But then she had to be kind.

She had to look at me like I was someone worth knowing—not a threat, not a mirror of the woman she thought she hated. She had to be soft and warm and stupidly sincere. And now?

Now I couldn’t breathe properly.

I splashed cold water on my face, then wiped it with a tissue from the dispenser, eyes still locked on my reflection.

“Get it together,” I muttered under my breath. 

By the time I stepped out into the corridor again, my mind was somewhere else entirely. I walked slowly, letting my thoughts pull me under.

I didn’t even realize I’d turned into the wrong hallway.

It wasn’t until I reached the end and saw nothing but a steel door with a barred window and a flickering camera above it that I stopped.

I blinked.

Where the hell—

A voice drifted from around the corner. Low. Familiar.

I froze.

“—she’s doing good. Better than expected, honestly. Didn’t think she’d fall for it this quick.”

It was Dario.

I stepped back instinctively, flattening against the wall just before the bend. My heart started hammering, loud in my ears. There was another voice—rougher, amused.

“Which one? The mum or the daughter?”

He laughed. “Both.”

I held my breath.

“She and that old lady are doing all the work for me. Can you believe it? Getting me out, smoothing things over with the court, even securing the family estate for their little princess. All of it.”

He paused. Then added, low and sharp, “Once Eleanora gets her hands on that inheritance, I’ll make sure it becomes mine.”

The other guy gave a slow whistle. “Damn. You’re really playing the long game.”

Dario’s voice was smug now, twisted in a way that made my stomach churn. “She thinks this is about Aurora. Thinks I still want her. And maybe I do, for a little while. But the goal isn’t some teary reunion. The goal is power. Everything that should’ve been mine from the start. 

Something hot burned behind my eyes.

“You gonna let her keep the throne?” his friend asked.

Another cruel laugh. “Please. Once it’s all under her name, I’ll take it from her piece by piece. Same way I took Aurora’s trust. You should’ve seen how easy it was. Poor girl. Doesn’t know I’m doing all of this because I need her.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there.

Maybe five seconds. Maybe a full minute.

But by the time I backed away, my pulse was racing, my throat dry.

The hallway felt colder than before.

I turned sharply, walking the other way, heels now silent as death itself against the floor.

I didn’t know what to do with what I’d just heard.

But one thing was suddenly, painfully clear.

I wasn’t in control.

And Dario had never—never—planned to let me win.

Aurora

The gallery’s office was quiet except for the faint hum of the AC and the soft click of my pen against the clipboard. I leaned back in my chair, scrolling through the digital inventory on my tablet. Three new shipments had come in this morning—two contemporary collections from Milan and one highly sought-after set of restored sculptures. All of them were scheduled for the upcoming charity auction, and the paperwork had to be flawless.

I swiped through each entry carefully, double-checking provenance certificates and updated insurance details, the kind of work that left no room for mistakes. Lucia’s meticulous handwriting filled the hard copy files on my desk, neat enough to make even the pickiest auditor nod in approval.

Almost done.

I reached for my phone, the screen lighting up to reveal the time: 5:37 p.m. I had just under an hour before I was supposed to meet Eleanora. My fingers drummed lightly against the edge of the table, half in focus, half drifting.

A soft knock pulled me out of it. “Come in,” I called, setting the tablet aside.

Lucia slipped inside, a folder tucked under her arm. She closed the door with her shoulder, her heels clicking against the polished floor. “Shipment from Florence,” she announced, placing the folder in front of me. “We’ll need to cross-check the customs report with the insurance broker by tomorrow. Oh, and the press team is asking if you’ll confirm your attendance for the dinner next weekend.”

I nodded absently, flipping through the new paperwork. “I’ll have this signed off before I leave.”

Lucia’s gaze lingered, the faintest crease forming between her brows. “Meeting Eleanora again?”

My head snapped up at the sound of her voice. “…Yeah.”

“Does Leonardo know?” she asked, tone light but her eyes sharp.

I hesitated for a beat before answering. “Not yet.”