Chapter 51 Chapter Fifty One
A Glimpse of the Truth
Stefan's POV~
Seryne’s headquarters in Clawford hummed with tension, its glass-walled conference room a stage for Valenticia to command. I was leaning against a pillar, watching her, my chest swelling with pride, as she instructed her team on the Lovtan summit fallout. Her frame was encased in emerald, the jade hairpin sparkling, her demeanor a silent tempest. She pointed at the head of the table and spoke in a firm, and steady tone: “The memo was a lie, traced back to Nexus Ventures. Right now we back them into a corner, and our tech hub with New Dream will remake Wyllbron. Keep your guard up — they will do it again.’ Her team nodded their remarks in a chorus of support. “Brilliant, Miss Clawford,” said Tim, the intern, his eyes open wide. “You broke the tide,” Lena, his assistant, scribbling notes, added. I met her gaze and a little smile drifted between us, her strength a flame lighting mine.
The meeting was over, and my phone buzzed— it was Gideon calling, his tone urgent. “Stefan, we just caught someone planting this in Valenticia’s office. Security cam shows Natasha, dressed as a cleaner.” My anger roared, a hot flash in my veins. “That snake,” I snarled, clenching my fist. “Analyze the vial, Gideon. It's a trap Galden’s stink on it.” He agreed, assuring me I’d have answers by nightfall, and I hung up the phone, my protective instincts screaming in my ears. Natasha’s desperation was a weapon aimed at Valenticia, and I’d handled it.
I took Valenticia aside, her office a refuge of oak and glass. “Natasha put something in here,” I whispered. “Gideon’s taken charge, but we need answers—Dr. Marrow’s clinic, the facts about Lovtan. Elaine’s got a lead.” Her eyes sparked, just as determined as I was. “Let’s go,” she said, throwing on her coat. We walked out hurriedly to meet Elaine. Elaine was waiting for us at the elevator, with a laptop tucked under her arm, a solemn nod her only greeting. “Marrow’s clinic’s on shut down, but there might be records. We move now.”
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The periphery of Lovtan looked as drear as it ever had, the clinic a crumbling shell, peeling paint and broken windows, worn sign just legible: Marrow Medical, Est. 1990. The atmosphere was dreadful, the hallways creepy, shadows dancing around us under the beams of our flashlights. We fanned out and searched the area well. While I emptied a rusty cabinet of nothing but mildewy invoices, Elaine searched a locked office and picked the lock with a hairpin.
Valenticia rifled through a storage room, her voice echoing, “Nothing but syringes.” I was frustrated by the clinic, its secrets so swept away, but I maintained, especially when what I truly wanted was at stake.
In a base lab dusty with age, Valenticia cried out, “Here!” She clutched a charred file, its label barely legible: Subject V, 1999. There was a childhood photo — Valenticia, 5 years old, her eyes big, a jade pendant on her neck. I felt my heart sink, my suspicion hardening—she was the subject, I was sure. The notes in the file cited a “Galden serum,” memory modification, tried out on “V.C.” Elaine put the portable scanner in place, her voice steady. “Give me an hour.” We gathered in the lab, the vial from Natasha’s stunt in my pocket, its weight a question.
Elaine’s analysis pinged, laptop aglow. “The serum in the vial is consistent with the file,” she said, squinting. “It rewrites memory, trialed on Subject V ’99 — chemical indicators for neural suppression.” Valenticia frowned, puzzled. “Who’s V.C.?” she asked, her voice curious. I swallowed, my chest all tight, but kept a straight face. “Old Galden code most likely,” I lied, unable to bear, the thought of her childhood robbed. Her nod was uncertain, but she believed me, her hand brushing mine, the locket at her throat whispered a pledge.
A memory struck, unwelcome—Haisley, three years earlier, a fake smile on her face as she hawked New Dream’s prototypes to Galden and nearly sunk my company. I’d questioned her in my office, her laugh I recall till the day was cold, “you’re too soft, Stefan”, she had said. Her betrayal had made me cold, and at that moment, staring into Galden’s web, I resolved – I would stop their game, and save Valenticia, no matter the price. Her touch made me come to, her voice low. “You okay?” I nodded, squeezing her hand, the feel of her skin my tether.
We drove to my safehouse, the clinic’s skyline in our rear vision, the file and vial tucked away, Lovtan’s outline a smear against the window. The steel walls of the loft felt safer, but my phone buzzed, Gideon’s voice taut. “Look at your phone Stefan — news alert. I opened it, and the rage shocked me, a Seryne broadcast screaming “Valenticia Clawford, the lab rat of Galden? Leaked files claim she was a 1999 test subject, her memories erased.
The anchor’s voice, thick with scandal, the crowd’s gasps rising, Valenticia’s photograph flashing — a child, then now her poise under assault.