Talia continued pacing in the small study of the Hayes mansion;her footsteps were muffled by a thick Persian rug. Roman and Celeste shuffled through files scattered on the comfort of an antique desk around her. The morning sun filtered through half-drawn drapes, catching floating dust motes in the tense air. A framed family portrait hung on the wall, a reminder to all of just how splintered the family had grown under Soren's reign.

"We have one shot," Talia said, her voice shaking with urgency. “If we can turn three targeted board members before the emergency meeting, we will unlock the money that's being held back.” She hesitated, looking at Roman's laptop, wwhich glowed with half-finished spreadsheets. “But we require incontrovertible evidence of Father's malfeasance. Not board members who endanger their careers on hunches."

Roman leaned closer, tapping on a coloured-in document on thescreen.“I've obtained additional information on Soren's offshore accounts. The data is damning, but it's not completely conclusive. His brow furrowed.“We don't have the final ledger pages that show his signature on those fraudulent transfers.”

Celeste massaged her temples, remembering the night she'd tossed and turned over her upcoming house auction. "Is there no alternative to unlock the company's accounts?" she asked, her voicegentle but resolute.Talia shook her head. "Not without a board majority. Our only hope is to mobilize them. If theyoverride Soren's freeze, then Caspian can funnel the funds through and rescue your home."

“God!" Roman exhaled sharply, and she gathered the documents into a neat pile. "I'll get into the digital part and show the board how Soren hid

big amounts. Talia, you do the in-person prodding. We must be careful.Soren has spies everywhere.”

A hush descended, tension buzzing in the air like static. Celeste could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. She envisioined Caspian on his own in the boardroom,eclipsed by Soren's charm and the power he brought to the table. If they did not succeed, all their labour would be in vain, and her parent's house would be reduced to a statistic under the gavel of an auctioneer.

Talia's eyes fixed on Celeste. "If it goes wrong,"she stated,"we lose everything. Caspian's leverage, the last chance for your house, perhaps the last remnants of good faith the board has in him." She swallowed, fear flashing in her eyes. “I need you there to support me, whatever happens."

Celeste nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of that responsibility.United, they fortified themselves for the next move in a game that risked swallowing them all whole. Outside, the day grew brighter,with each passing minute a tick toward the meeting that would determine the fate of the house,company, and family alike.

Celeste stood on the courthouse steps, her heart racing with dread.Morning light glínted off polished marble columns, and a throng of strangers ambled, paddles in hand, between two tents set up in a courtyard.Every breath she took felt thin, tainted with the sickening knowledge that they had come to bid on her parents' home. Her hands rustled the papers-a final scrap of official documents confirming her near-hopeless debt.

She looked over at the looming double doors, half-expecting to see Caspian or Talia come through with word that the money had been released. But the minutes felt like an eternity, each tick tightening her gut further.

Roman texted: "Working on it. Hang on." But time offered no mercy. Her lips trembled, and she remembered hearing her parents' laughter drifting in those old walls. Pictures of the creaky porch and the warm kitchen haunted her while the auctioneer's amplified voice wafted from within.

She got a few sideways looks from curiously peering passersby. She looked past them, willing herself not to dissolve into tears. She thought of Caspian's promise: He would find a way. But as the crowd grew,that promise seemed like a fragile shield. Would she have to leave him to keep the house? That question clawed at the heart of her being. She recalled Soren's threat and how he had vowed that he would never let her stay married to Caspian. Including that their frail bond was the only appeasement to make him stop, end this madness?

As she let out a tense breath, the doors to the courthouse opened. An official extended his arm for people to come in. Panic swelled. That was her final call. If she walked through and the paddles went down,the house would disappear in a flurry of raised paddles. One step closer,mind battering back and forth between love and history.

All at once, there was a racket from the bottom of the stairs. Caspian stepped out of a sleek car, jacket askew, hair tousled, eyes on fire with purpose. He saw Celeste, relief and desperation mixing in his eyes. He raced upstairs without breaking stride, almost running into her. She staggered back in shock, tears welling in her eyes.

“I'm not going to let it go,” he said, his voice hoarse. The crowd of bidders parted in mild curiosity as he approached, wrapping a protective arm around Celeste's shaking shoulders. Her heart fluttered, a stir of hope.But she saw the flicker of uncertainty play out across his face, knowing Soren's manoeuvres had not yet been exhausted to smother a last-minute rescue. The call of the auctioneer rang out from within, calling for all

bidders. Caspian clenched his jaw and pushed her inside, them both preparing for a last stand while the crowd shoved around them.

Tension hung thick in the air of the executive boardroom at Hayes Enterprises. Caspian walked in, hair still damp from an anxious shower,carrying a thin folder with Roman's partial evidence and Valentina's damning intel. Senior board members stole nervous glances, conscious of Soren's brooding figure at the other end. Soren, statuesque and regal,smiled predatorily. Today's vote would seal Caspian's fate-and,for Celeste, whether the house could still be saved.

Roman followed him into the room, holding a laptop. Talia lounged tensely off to one side, looking at the directors' faces. Soren, of course,opened with a silken tone that painted Caspian as impetuous and incompetent. Murmurs rippled through the assembly, some smiling, some frowning. When Caspian rose to address them, his voice shaking with both anger and restraint, the room fell quiet.

He'd laid out the evidence: shadow transactions, suspicious offshore activity, hush money that had padded Soren's pockets. Roman displayed two columns of data on a screen, highlighting the mismatch in each record.Nearby, Valentina, seated next to the door, quietly spoke about the mistress scandal, her face pale as she skirted her husband's hypocrisy.Gasps of disbelief spread around the board. Soren tensed, his lipscurling with contempt.

Meanwhile,outside, Celeste waited in the courthouse's echoing hallway,her heart racing when the auction began in the next room. She held tight to her phone, wishing and hoping to see any indication that Caspian's last-ditch effort would free the funds in time. The auctioneer's droning voice muddied through the heavy doors of the conference room, and each statement felt like it scraped at her nerves.

At the same time, in the boardroom, a heated debate broke out. Soren boomed that Caspian faked the data to defame his sire, but Talia stood.saying she'd seen the ledger pages with her own eyes. One by one, the key lieutenants of Soren faltered, looking nervously at the enormous weight of evidence. Roman advanced with slides, pushing them to safeguard Hayes Enterprises from Soren's treachery.

Sweat ran down Caspian's neck as a senior member called for a formal vote. Soren's smile slipped, turning dark and sulky. And, across the city,Celeste trembled at her seat, listening to the bidding for her home rise. She checked her phone, and there was no message yet. The auctioneer's voice rose, announcing the next number. She was filled with despair that blurred her vision.

And then, at the last minute, her phone buzzed. She rushed to respond,heart in her mouth. A frantic voice on the other end spilt frantic words.Blood sang in her ears at the thought that Caspian had won. But the auctioneer's gavel rose, awaiting to seal her doom. Her hand, shaking.clutched the phone, caught between winning or losing,not knowing whether blow A or blow B would come first.