The ss doors closed behind me with the finality of a sentence I hadn’t read yet.
Three men stood as I entered — ck suits, dynasty insignias stitched into theirpels, the air around them tight with the weight of legacy.
I’d grown up at the edge of this table. Watched these men whisper into my father’s ear. Seen them shake the hands of Dynasty kings while they dismantled empires over wine.
But now they were watching me.
“Miss Adams,” Corvin said. “Happy birthday.”
I said nothing. Because I wasn’t stupid enough to take that as a conversation starter.
The chair at the head of the table — his chair — was pulled out for me. I sat because I was told to. And I had learned how to breathe through panic.
Corvin gave a small nod to Marcus, who slid a matte ck folder across the table.
My name shimmered across it in tinum embossing:
EMILIA V. ADAMS XII
The roman numeral felt like a brand.
“This is the final sealed use of your father’s will,” Marcus said. “Unlocked upon your twenty-first birthday, as per dynasty stiptions.”
I kept my fingers tight in myp.
“Your brother received his portion upon his majority,” Corvin continued. “Titles, properties, the legacy ounts.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“You, however… have been left something different.”
The room stilled.
“Your father named you sole inheritor of the Liria ord.”
The words didn’tnd.
Not at first.
They just hung there — like a phrase in anguage I didn’t speak.
Until something in me broke.
“I—” I swallowed. “That’s not—he wouldn’t…”
But the folder was already open in front of me. Dynasty watermarks. Embedded verification threads. Wax seals. Every use legally binding. Signed four months before his death.
I blinked at it. Once. Twice.
Then everything went cold.
The Liria ord wasn’t just a trade route.
It was the trade route.
A direct international passage that funneled dynastymodities across three continents — Estalia to Drovane to the Arch. Syndicates had gone to war over less. And no woman, not in the history of the ord — had ever held ownership.
My hands were shaking before I could stop them.
“You’re saying this is mine?”
Corvin nodded. “In full.”
“And Alexander?—”
“Doesn’t know.”
I stared at him.
“He wasn’t told? He’s head of the Adams line.” My voice cracked on it.
“Not for this,” Marcus said. “Only those in this room were aware of the transfer. Your father made it very clear it was to remain confidential until today.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Then who’s managing it?” I asked, because I had to—because some part of me needed the world to make sense.
Rowan answered. “We are.”
He meant the Adams counselors.
The men in this room.
“It’s still under our stewardship. The trade continues. The profits remain in Adams ounts.”
“But not for long,” Corvin added. “Once your name is filed through dynasty records, all associated control transfers to you. Fully.”
“Jesus,” I whispered.
They let the silence settle.
Let me spiral inside it.
“You’re going to be a target,” Rowan said inly. “Every family looking to increase eastern leverage wille for you. Either through marriage, maniption, or worse.”
I stared down at the contract, my vision going blurry for a moment.
I wasn’t ready for this.
I wasn’t trained for this.
I’d spent my life at charity gs and press appearances, not international war tables. Not on blood-soaked docks or encrypted ck route meetings in Estalia. I didn’t know the politics of the ord, or the handlers stationed at each checkpoint.
I barely knew how to speak in a boardroom like this, let alone defend myself from a trade war I hadn’t asked to lead.
“I can’t… You can’t just drop this on me and expect me to survive it.”
Corvin’s eyes softened, just a shade. “No one expects you to be ready. Only to understand what’s been ced in your hands.”
“I don’t want it.”
“That doesn’t matter now.”
I pushed the folder away, but my hand shook too hard to make the gesture look like anything but a girl falling apart.
I saw it.
They saw it.
“You are the first woman in twelve generations to carry the Adams name in ownership,” Marcus said. “Your father knew exactly what he was doing.”
My throat burned.
He hadn’t just passed on a legacy.
He’d handed me a target. Wrapped in ink andw, dressed in the illusion of power. Something toorge for a girl like me to carry.
“The ord’s management will remain under our stewardship,” Corvin said, his voice a degree softer now, “until you request otherwise.”
Thatnded like a mercy and a warning in the same breath.
“You can step into control when you’re ready,” Marcus added. “But dynastyw now recognizes you as the legal holder of the route.”
I didn’t respond.
Couldn’t.
Because ready was a word that felt centuries away.
“And Emilia—” Corvin leaned forward, the edge of finality settling into his tone. “By tonight, the registry will update. The name Emilia V. Adams XII will appear in the international dynasty bulletin.”
My stomach turned.
“That means?—?”
“It means the information bes public,” Rowan said. “Visible to every dynasty house. Every trade partner. Every syndicate with a vested interest in the corridor.”
A sick, cold rity bled through me.
By nightfall, I wouldn’t just be a daughter in the Adams line.
I’d be a strategic threat.
A singr, vulnerable point of power with a dynasty contract pinned to her back—and no ring on her finger to protect it.
“You should prepare for contact,” Corvin said. “Suitors. Proposals. Surveince. Protection requests. Some wille bearing roses.”<fn734b> This update is avable on Find1Novel</fn734b>
He paused.
“Others wille armed.”
“Can we block it?” The words came out quickly, rushed. I spoke in a way I wasn’t trained too. “Can we… hide the ownership, keep it under Adams.”
Corvin tilted his head, just enough for me to know he was considering it. “There is a use we could lean on. It would give you ten months.”
Ten months.
It was better than nothing.