A Socialite Cut Her Maid's Hair as Punishment, Never Guessing the City's Most Feared Man Was Watching

Theodore had never signed the document.

He knew every version of his signature, every flourish and imperfection. The signature on the scanned will was convincing enough to fool a casual observer, but it lacked the small upward stroke he had developed in his twenties.

Someone had forged it.

The will stated that Nadia would inherit a controlling interest in Hawthorne Holdings upon proof of her identity. Theodore was listed as trustee, responsible for transferring the shares once the legal requirements were met.

The document had been filed six months earlier.

Victor had known Nadia was alive.

He had been preparing for her return long before the orchid-house incident.

Theodore summoned the estate's legal team, but he chose an independent attorney named Helen Brooks to examine the papers. Helen had no connection to the Hawthorne Foundation and had spent years investigating financial fraud.

After reviewing the document, she found a hidden clause.

“If the named beneficiary dies before the transfer is completed, the shares revert to the foundation,” she explained.

Nadia looked up.

“Which Victor controls.”

Helen nodded.

“Precisely.”

Theodore's expression turned cold.

“So the will creates a reason to kill Nadia.”

“It creates a financial incentive,” Helen corrected. “Whether someone intends to act on it is a separate question.”

Nadia stared at the document.

“My entire life has been shaped by people who thought I was worth more dead than alive.”

“Not anymore,” Theodore said.

She looked at him.

He had placed his personal fortune into a temporary trust, restricting any transfer of company shares until the investigation concluded. It was an expensive decision that could weaken his control over the business, but he refused to let the inheritance become another weapon.

Helen warned him that the board would challenge the move.

“Let them.”

“You could lose control of the company.”

“Then I lose it.”

Nadia studied him.

“You're willing to give up your empire?”

“I'm willing to stop treating it as more important than people.”

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of a decision he had avoided his entire life.

Later that afternoon, Eleanor summoned Nadia to her private sitting room.

She had recovered an old jewelry box from her bedroom. Inside lay a small silver bracelet engraved with two names.

Theodore. Nadia.

Eleanor touched it with trembling fingers.

“Richard gave this to me after the birth. He said it was meant for the twins. I believed he had destroyed the second bracelet after telling me the baby was dead.”

Nadia held it carefully.

“Why would he keep it?”

“Perhaps he regretted what he had done. Perhaps he wanted a reminder of the child he had sacrificed.”

Eleanor handed Nadia a sealed envelope.

“I found this hidden inside the box.”

The letter was addressed to Theodore.

It contained a confession written by Richard three weeks before his death.

I have made a bargain that cannot be undone. One child was given a name, a future, and a fortune. The other was given silence. If my son ever discovers what I did, tell him that I was trying to save both children from Victor Sloane.

Beneath the confession was a second paragraph.

But if Nadia returns, do not trust the woman who raised her. She knows why the babies were switched.

Nadia stared at the page.

“The woman who raised me was my adoptive mother.”

Eleanor nodded slowly.

“But your mother may not have been the only woman who knew the truth.”

A knock sounded at the door.

Marcus entered carrying a new report.

“We found Rebecca.”

Nadia stood.

“Is she alive?”

“Yes. She's at a private hospital in New Jersey. She's unconscious, but stable.”