Chapter 189- Not a Fairytale
The sequel continues from here. Thank you all for reading.
*******
A week had passed since the announcement, but the buzz still hadn’t died down. Everywhere we went, reporters swarmed, tabloids speculated, and investors circled Hardin like vultures scenting fresh meat. Everyone wanted a piece of the new Richards heir.
But the truth was, while Hardin had stepped confidently into his new title, the empire he inherited came with shadows we hadn’t expected.
“You sure you want to be here?” he asked, glancing over at me as we stepped out of the sleek black car in front of the Richards Global headquarters. His fingers laced through mine, grounding me.
“I’m not just here for support,” I replied, adjusting the fitted blazer over my cream blouse. “I’m your partner, remember?”
He smiled, but the tightness in his jaw didn’t go unnoticed. We both knew today was more than just a press tour—it was his first board meeting as CEO.
We stepped into the towering glass building, greeted by marble floors, chrome accents, and a wall of flashing cameras. But the moment we crossed into the executive suite, a different kind of pressure filled the air—one not from the public, but from the men and women who sat at the long boardroom table, guarded by years of secrets and loyalty to Hardin’s father.
The meeting dragged on. Discussions of quarterly losses. Hushed murmurs about “restructuring.” Thinly veiled criticism disguised as concern.
By the time it ended, Hardin looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a professional boxer.
“They don’t trust me,” he muttered, ripping off his tie the moment we stepped into his office.
“They’re testing you,” I said gently. “They want to see if you’re your father’s son.”
His eyes met mine, and something flickered in them—pain? Doubt? “What if I don’t want to be him, Ariana?”
I stepped closer, cupping his face. “Then be better. Be you. That’s who I fell in love with.”
He pulled me into a hug, burying his face in my neck. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
But just as we shared that quiet moment, Hardin’s office phone buzzed.
“Yes?” he answered, voice clipped.
“There’s someone here asking to see you,” his assistant said nervously. “She says it’s urgent.”
“Who is it?”
There was a pause. “She says her name is Elena.”
I felt him stiffen.
“Tell her to leave,” Hardin said instantly, voice cold.
“She says she knows about the Emerald Eye. And about the late-night shipments at the East Harbor docks.”
My blood ran cold.
The Emerald Eye had only just been recovered—how could a stranger know about it? And the docks... they had been part of his father’s more questionable legacy, a part Hardin swore he was dismantling.
“I’ll see her,” Hardin said eventually.
“Hardin—” I began, but he held up a hand.
“I need to know what she wants.”
Minutes later, the door opened—and in walked a woman with sleek black hair, crimson lipstick, and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Elena Dean,” she said smoothly, extending a gloved hand. “We’ve never met, but I knew your father well.”
Hardin didn’t shake her hand. “What do you want?”
She tilted her head, her gaze flickering between us. “Just a chance to talk. Preferably alone.”
“No,” I said before Hardin could answer. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it here.”
Elena’s smile widened like she was amused. “Of course. Very well. Let’s start simple, then. Did your father ever tell you about Project Seraphim?”
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.
Hardin blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a legacy far darker than you’ve inherited, Mr Richards. One that involved offshore accounts, hidden research facilities, and something... unnatural.”
I glanced at Hardin, then back at Elena. “This sounds like blackmail.”
She laughed softly. “Oh no, darling. This isn’t blackmail. This is a warning.”
She reached into her coat and dropped a USB drive on the desk.
“Play it when you’re alone. And when you do, ask yourself: was the Emerald Eye really just a jewel, or was it a key?”
Before either of us could respond, she turned and walked out, heels clicking like a clock counting down.
I stared at the USB drive like it was a bomb.
“What the hell is Project Seraphim?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Hardin picked up the drive, his eyes stormy and unreadable. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m going to find out.”
And just like that, the glittering fairytale we’d been living cracked at the edges, revealing something far more dangerous beneath.