Chapter 166:

“They think I’m a prize to be claimed,” Aurora whispered, looking at the wet pavement blurring past.

“They’re about to find out you’re the one holding the leash,” Elias said.

Back inside the manor, the storm was just beginning.

Eleanor was screaming at her husband on the phone in the library. “Do something, Edward! If the test is positive… Vivian gets nothing! We get nothing! And if she has Vane blood? That means the Sterlings are involved! We can’t fight the Vane empire!”

Vivian was sitting on the floor of the dining room, drinking straight from the wine bottle. “I hate her,” she slurred. “I hate her.”

The Matriarch sat by the fireplace, clutching a rosary. She made a second call. Not to the Hamptons, but to a number she hadn’t dialed in years.

“Margaret? It’s Catherine Kensington.”

Scene shift: The Presidential Suite at the St. Regis Hotel, Manhattan. Gold leaf, velvet, and silence.

Matriarch Margaret Vane stood by the window, looking out at the rain-slicked streets of New York. She took the call.

“It is late, Catherine.”

“We found her,” Catherine Kensington said.

“Found who?”

“The child. She has the Crescent Mark. And Edward’s eyes.”

The phone dropped from Margaret Vane’s hand onto the desk. She gripped the edge of the mahogany table, her knuckles turning white.

“I am in the city,” Margaret whispered, her voice trembling with a rare emotion. “I came for the gala, but… tell me where she is. Tell me it’s true.”

𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙥𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙨.𝙘𝙤𝙢

“It’s true,” Catherine said. “Get over here, Margaret. We have a war to plan.”

3:00 AM.

The city was asleep, but the penthouse at Obsidian Tower was awake with tension.

Aurora sat on the edge of the sprawling velvet sofa, a mug of herbal tea untouched on the coffee table. The skyline of Manhattan glittered below her, a sea of stars she now owned a significant piece of.

The phone on the table buzzed. The sound was like a drill in the silence.

Elias, who was standing by the window monitoring the security feed, picked it up before the second ring.

“Speak.”

“Put her on,” the Matriarch Kensington’s voice came through. It was trembling with joy.

Elias handed the phone to Aurora. “It’s time.”

Aurora took the phone. “Hello?”

“99.999%,” the Matriarch said. She was sobbing openly now. “You are Aurora Kensington. My Edward’s daughter. My granddaughter.”

Aurora closed her eyes. The confirmation hit her not with relief, but with a heavy sense of inevitability.

“And the Mark?” Aurora asked, her voice steady.

“We checked the records,” the Matriarch continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Your mother… she was Isabella Vane. The runaway daughter of Margaret Vane. You are the union of the two greatest houses in New York.”

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