Page 24 of The Silent War
“Your brother received his portion upon his majority,” Corvin continued. “Titles, properties, the legacy accounts.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“You, however… have been left something different.”
The room stilled.
“Your father named you sole inheritor of the Liria Accord.”
The words didn’t land.
Not at first.
They just hung there — like a phrase in a language 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 clause legally binding. Signed four months before his death.
I blinked at it. Once. Twice.
Then everything went cold.
The Liria Accord wasn’t just a trade route.
It wasthetrade route.
A direct international passage that funneled dynasty commodities 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 Accord — 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 accounts.”
