The Disputed Territory

Declan dropped his easygoing grin at once, leaning forward across the desk as his demeanor turned strictly serious. "That parcel of land out in Eastcliff. Nothing else comes close to giving me a bigger headache right now."

"The deed originally belonged to us," he continued. "Twenty years back, we signed a long-term lease handing it over to the Kensington family. That contract finally expires this year, except they've been dragging their feet and stalling on turning the property back over."

Viviana drew her brows together. "The Kensingtons? The same family standing alongside our Thorne clan among the Four Families of Veridia?"

"The very same," Declan said, pitching his voice a notch louder with a teasing inflection. "Speaking of which, you still have an active marriage engagement tied to their name. If you hadn't vanished off the grid back then, odds are you'd already be settled in as a Kensington bride by now."

Viviana cut her eyes toward him, pinning him with a flat, warning stare.

Declan let out an awkward cough and sat bolt upright, steering straight back to business. "Anyway, I've reached out to their senior leadership several times, and every single time they throw out some flimsy excuse to dodge meeting me in person."

Across all the elite circles in Veridia, four dynasties stood completely apart in secrecy and influence: the Thornes, the Navarros, the Lawsons, and the Kensingtons. Backed by over a century of inherited wealth and deep roots, any single one of them occupied a tier ordinary families could never hope to reach.

Normally, the Four Families kept one another in check, maintaining a careful balance even when commercial dealings overlapped between them. Still, any business dispute tangling two of those four names together required a cautious hand.

"Which exact tract are they leasing?" Viviana asked.

"Right here." Declan pulled a regional map across the desk and drew a circle around a plot over in Eastcliff.

Viviana skimmed the boundary lines with a brief glance. "The city rezoned this sector into an official development district just a few years ago. It's prime real estate now."

Declan nodded firmly. "Exactly. The projected returns on that acreage are massive. Reclaiming it will single-handedly cover the urgent cash shortfall our branch is dealing with right now. Of course, its high value is the exact reason the Kensingtons refuse to hand it back."

"Even with that kind of money on the table, the Kensingtons wouldn't break convention and pick an open fight with the Thorne family over one piece of land," Viviana said evenly. Beneath the surface, the situation wasn't nearly that straightforward.

A spark of excitement lit up Declan's eyes. "Can't slip a thing past you. My gut says someone under our own roof cut a quiet backroom deal with the Kensingtons and pocketed all the proceeds for themselves. That's the only reason they're brazen enough to keep squatting on our territory."

Ever since they were children, his cousin had possessed a razor-sharp mind. Even their grandfather, Alistair Thorne, had openly praised her intellect above everyone else's.

Viviana's gaze turned noticeably colder. "Do you know who it is?"

"I've narrowed it down to a short list of suspects on my side, though I haven't caught the real traitor red-handed yet," Declan admitted with a shake of his head.

"You handle the internal sweep and thoroughly root out the traitor inside the company," Viviana ordered, her voice low and firm. "Leave the Eastcliff property to me."

"Done!" Declan agreed without a split second of hesitation. With his cousin stepping onto the board, there was zero chance they would come out at a disadvantage!

With his single biggest problem lifted straight off his shoulders, Declan visibly relaxed and switched into attentive mode. "You have to be worn out from the trip. Let me take you back to get some rest first."

Viviana turned her head toward him. "Where are the things I asked you to line up?"

"Right—nearly slipped my mind!" Declan tapped his forehead as her earlier instructions clicked back into place. "Good thing you reminded me. Come on, I'll drive you over right now."

He led her out of the office building right away, and half an hour later, the two of them walked into an upscale, private custom home textile boutique.

The store manager hurried out to greet them in person. "Mr. Adler, right this way. These are our company's newest pieces—every single set is purely handmade and tailored strictly to the standards you specified."

As the manager respectfully walked Declan through the displayed bedding collections, Viviana lingered half a step beside them. Coming straight here wasn't a whim; picking out a comfortable bed for herself was top priority.

The car crash a year ago had left a lingering toll on her body. She fatigued far quicker than an ordinary person, burning through physical stamina fast while recovering much more slowly.

Because of that, her standards for sleep quality were unforgiving. Unless she tested the bedding materials in person first, she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink at night.

Whenever she failed to rest properly, a splitting headache inevitably followed, dragging her mood straight into the gutter.

And once her temper soured, somebody nearby was guaranteed to pay the price.

Knowing that chain reaction inside and out, Declan always treated anything involving her sleep with extra care. "Which set catches your eye?" he asked, turning to her.

Viviana moved down the row, testing each of the manager's recommended models in turn until she settled on one that was passably up to her standards. Lifting a slender finger, she pointed toward the display on the far side of the room. "That one."

"Box up that entire set," Declan told the manager.

"Right away!" The manager answered promptly and hurried off to arrange the wrapping.

"Have a seat and rest here first, Viviana. I'll go keep an eye on it," Declan said. Knowing her strict obsession with cleanliness and how much she disliked strangers touching her things, he wanted to oversee the packaging himself.

"Mm," Viviana murmured faintly through her nose.

A subtle shadow of gloom had already gathered between her brows. A headache was starting to come on.

Once Declan stepped away, Viviana sank casually onto a plush sofa nearby to rest, lifting slender fingers to pinch the bridge of her brow over and over in an effort to hold the nagging ache down.

Moments later, an irritated female voice abruptly shattered the quiet showroom. "What is wrong with you people? I already placed an order for that bedding set earlier—how can you just turn around and sell it to somebody else?"

A sales clerk replied in a gentle, apologetic tone, "I'm truly sorry, ma'am. That customer was in a rush, so we released the set in stock to them first. However, we've already submitted an emergency dispatch, and a replacement will arrive here within three days at the latest."

"That customer was in a rush?" the woman snapped back, dissatisfaction sharpened in every word. "So you just assumed I have nothing better to do than sit around waiting?"

"Well..." The clerk trailed off, looking thoroughly cornered. Her superior had made the call to sell it, leaving her completely innocent yet stuck taking the blame.

"What's going on?" A low, steady male voice cut in just then.

The sharp edge melted off Daphne's face the instant she spotted Silas, her voice softening into a delicate, aggrieved murmur that made her sound terribly wronged. "Silas, I ordered a set of bedding from them before our business trip to put in our new house, and now she's telling me they sold it to another buyer. I even specially picked out a design you like. How could they do this?"

Silas reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder with a reassuring pat before shifting a cold, unyielding gaze toward the sales clerk beside them. "Since my fiancée placed the order, you have zero right to sell it to anyone else without our permission. Get that customer on the phone immediately and demand that he return it right this instant!"