A New Person
“Elena Farsworth,” I said. “She always told people she married young and left the name behind, but she never mentioned a husband. Not once.”
Jo frowned. “That’s a red flag. People like her don’t just... drop off the grid.”
I nodded, still staring at the paused screen. “Unless they were forced to.”
Jo’s voice dropped. “Or protected.”
Rowan returned a second later. “They’ll get back to me by morning.”
My hands rested in my lap, but my mind wasn’t still. It was racing. Over images. Over possibilities.
Over a life my mother never told me about.
I looked at Rowan, then Jo.
"I want to know everything," I said.
Rowan's gaze didn’t waver. “Then you need to know what Cedric was part of.”
Jo returned from the kitchen, sipping water slowly, her brows raised. “Let me guess—he wasn’t just some billionaire boyfriend?”
Rowan shook his head. “Not even close.”
He turned and grabbed a folder from the nearby table. “Back when I first got involved in my family’s business, I heard whispers. Nothing direct, just… rumors. About a group. A society. One that operated behind the scenes. Not just corporations. Governments. Monarchies. Wars.”
He handed me the folder. Inside were grainy images, newspaper clippings with blurred faces, and a black symbol repeated over and over—a circle intersected by a triangle and a vertical line through its center.
Jo squinted at it. “That looks like something off a conspiracy podcast.”
“Except it’s real,” Rowan said. “They were called the Ordo Sententia. Latin. It means ‘Order of Judgment.’”
I flipped through the pages, my pulse rising.
Rowan continued. “They’re ancient. Older than the Vaughns, older than most dynasties still standing. But they’ve always been selective. Silent. Members operate in shadows. Influence elections. Wars. Economies. They don’t show themselves, but the effects? You’ve felt them.”
“And Cedric?” I asked.
“He was one of them. High-ranking.”
I felt my breath catch.
Jo let out a low whistle. “So you’re saying your mother…?”
“Was married to someone who might’ve been running the board,” Rowan said. “And someone didn’t want that truth out.”
My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the folder. The images blurred. My mother. Cedric. The Vaughns.
“How did you find this?” I asked.
Rowan’s expression hardened. “The Vaughns tried to keep it buried. But my father left notes. Old letters. They mentioned the Ordo. They mentioned Cedric. And they mentioned your mother—Elena.”
Jo sank into the couch slowly. “So why would they hide her? What threat was she?”
Rowan met my eyes. “Because she left. She ran. And no one leaves the Order.”
The silence that followed was sharp.
I closed the folder gently and stared down at my lap.
“So what does that make me?” I whispered. “What if I’m part of something I didn’t even know existed?”
Jo leaned forward, her tone soft for once. “It makes you exactly who you’ve always been. A surgeon. A mother. And maybe… a key. but that's not the main thing. The main this is this. And they covered her eyes.
And everything changed.
It felt like another body….and I emobdied it.
I didn't want to die. I did not want to be forgotten. I was still young with so much to achieve.
As the thoughts came in, I could barely breathe, my chest tightening as if a vice were crushing my lungs. The doctors said it was getting worse, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was how I'd die—in a sterile, cold hospital room, alone.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling tiles that I'd memorized after weeks of staring. They offered no comfort, just a reminder that time was slipping away. I was running out of options. They had already tried everything—every treatment, every experimental drug—but nothing worked. My body was betraying me, and I was powerless to stop it.
Heart failure was not something I would wish on my enemy, yet someone had wished it on me. I was dying but I am yet to accept my fate.
The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked back the tears, to prevent anyone from seeing me in this state of weakness. My mother stepped in, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Of course, it wouldn't; her only daughter had been diagnosed with a rather expensive sickness. All her savings went for my treatment yet, nothing worked.
I am sure I was her curse.
"Harper," she said softly, coming to sit beside me. Her hands were shaking as she reached for mine. "My beautiful daughter.”
Eyes that were like mine, emerald stared at me with anxiety.
“You are complimenting me, which is strange on a Sunday; what's wrong?” I asked with worry, my hands clasping hers.
She took in a deep breath as she said, “There's... there's something I need to tell you."
I swallowed, feeling the lump in my throat grow. I could see the fear in her eyes, the desperation. "What is it, Mom?"
She took a deep breath, her eyes darting away from mine as if she couldn't bear to look at me. "I've been talking to Dr. Reynolds, and he says there's a new treatment. It's risky, but it could work. It could save you. Stopped the fluid from filling your heart."
For a moment, hope flickered in my chest, but it was quickly extinguished by the look on her face. There was more to this. "What's the catch?"
She hesitated, her fingers tightening around mine. "The treatment is incredibly expensive. More than we can afford…But someone is willing to pay for it."
My heart sank. I could see where this was going, and I didn't like it. "Who?"
"Gavin Slade."
I blinked, the name sending a chill down my spine. Gavin Slade, the man who was known for his ruthless business tactics, never did anything without expecting something in return. He was a titan in the business industry, feared, respected, and from one of the richest families. The Slades. They were powerful; there was nowhere they walked that you wouldn't know who they were.
But they were mysterious. Apart from their business, their personal life was private. No information whatsoever could be found on that. If you didn't know about the Slades, then you must be living under a rock. They own every single business in New York. Yet, my mother, a waitress with nothing to her name, suddenly became friends with them, and they would pay for my treatment.
I blinked multiple times before asking, "Why would he pay for my treatment?"
She looked away, her voice barely a whisper. She murmured something that I could n
ot make out.
“What?”
She sighed, "Because... because he wants to marry you, Harper. It's the only way."
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