"Go." Julian sighed heavily like a man being forced into exile. Reluctantly, he leaned down and kissed Amara’s forehead one more ti before standing. Then, before leaving, he pointed at his mother seriously.
"Five minutes." Madam Vale raised an eyebrow. "Julian."
"Ten if she smiles again." Amara shook her head helplessly as Julian finally walked toward the door. But right before stepping out, he turned back one last ti.
His eyes imdiately found Amara again. Always her. "I love you," he said softly. Amara’s chest tightened warmly. "I know," she whispered back. Julian smiled faintly. Then finally, he left the room.
"Mother, I..." Amara tried to speak, but Madam Vale gently stopped her.
"No," she said softly. "Let finish first." The older woman sat beside her on the bed, elegant and composed as always, yet there was sothing deeply sincere in her eyes now.
Sothing warm. Sothing maternal. "I want to apologize," Madam Vale said quietly, "for everything you heard at the estate the other day."
Amara’s throat tightened imdiately. Madam Vale reached for her hand without hesitation.
"What they said was cruel," she continued. "And you should never have been made to stand there and hear such things." Amara lowered her eyes. But Madam Vale would not let her hide. Gently, she lifted Amara’s chin.
"Listen to carefully." Her voice beca firr now. "I love you." The words stunned Amara completely. Madam Vale smiled faintly at the shock on her face.
"And I accepted you long ago," she continued softly. "So did my late son." A shadow of grief crossed her face briefly at the ntion of him, but she kept going.
"And Julian..." She let out a quiet breath. "That boy loves you so much it is honestly exhausting to witness sotis." Despite herself, Amara laughed weakly through the tears forming in her eyes.
Madam Vale smiled too. "And in the end," she whispered, squeezing her hand gently, "that is all that truly matters." Amara’s lips trembled.
Because after everything... After the humiliation. The whispers. The sha. Hearing acceptance felt almost unreal. Madam Vale’s expression softened further when she saw tears gathering in Amara’s eyes.
"You did nothing wrong," she said firmly. Every word carried weight. "So never bla yourself for any of this."
Amara looked away quickly as tears finally slipped down her cheeks. "If anyone deserves bla," Madam Vale continued coldly, "it is Sebastian Creed and Amira." The bitterness in her voice sharpened instantly at their nas.
"Not you." Amara pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to cry harder. But Madam Vale moved closer.
"And you will never bow your head in sha in front of anyone," she said firmly. Her eyes hardened with protective authority.
"Do you hear ?" Amara nodded weakly. "No." Madam Vale shook her head slightly. "Say it."
Amara’s voice broke. "Yes." Madam Vale smiled softly, then brushed a strand of hair away from her face almost tenderly.
"If your mother were alive today," she whispered, "she would never allow anyone to treat you this way." That sentence shattered the last of Amara’s composure. A sob escaped her before she could stop it.
"And neither will I," Madam Vale finished quietly. The older woman pulled her gently into her arms after that. Amara lted into the embrace imdiately, crying silently against her shoulder. And for the first ti in a very long ti...
She felt protected by soone other than Julian. "You have my full support," Madam Vale whispered, holding her tightly.
Amara closed her eyes. The ache inside her chest loosened just a little.
—
A few minutes later, Madam Vale stepped out of the bedroom quietly. The softness disappeared from her expression almost instantly. By the ti she reached the hallway, her face had beco cold again. Controlled. Dangerous.
Her phone was already pressed against her ear. The call connected quickly.
I will bring hell to you, Sebastian Creed, she said calmly as she walked down the corridor. There was no hesitation in her voice. No rcy.
"I want you to target all of Creed’s businesses in overseas," she ordered. "Every single one."
She listened briefly before continuing. "Buy influence where necessary. Offer excellent money if you must. I don’t care what it costs." Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.
"But I want pressure from every direction." The person on the other end answered imdiately. Madam Vale’s eyes darkened further.
"And Amira..." Her tone turned icy. "Have the police take her into custody." A pause.
"No," Madam Vale corrected coldly. "Not tomorrow. Today." She stopped near the staircase, staring down into the massive, silent estate below.
"For too long, people have mistaken my silence for weakness," she said quietly. The calmness in her voice was terrifying.
"That ends now."
–----
Amira did not go to the office. She stayed ho alone in the massive apartnt, still wearing yesterday’s silk robe long after noon had passed. The curtains remained half closed, leaving the living room washed in dull gray light.
Usually, she loved luxury. The expensive furniture. The city view. The polished marble floors. But today the apartnt felt cold. Empty. Like a place built for strangers instead of comfort.
Files and financial reports were scattered across the coffee table in front of her. Numbers blurred together as she stared down at them again and again. Losses. Declining returns. Falling shares.
The company was sinking far faster than she had imagined. And the deeper she looked into the accounts, the worse it beca. Amira slowly leaned back against the couch, pressing tired fingers against her temple.
Leo had promised her everything was under control. He said the losses were temporary. Said investors were nervous because of recent scandals. Said they only needed ti.
But now... Now she wasn’t so sure anymore. A horrible thought crept quietly into her mind. What if Amara had been right all along? Amira imdiately shut her eyes tightly, as if physically refusing the thought could erase it.
No. No, Leo loved her. Didn’t he? Still... The uneasiness would not leave.
And on top of everything else, she could not stop replaying the funeral in her head. The way the Vale family looked at Amara. The coldness.
The disrespect. The humiliation. Amira swallowed hard, anger and embarrassnt twisting together painfully inside her chest.
Her fingers tightened around her phone resting beside her. She picked it up. Turned it over slowly in her hand. Thinking. Debating. Should she call Amara?
No. Absolutely not. Her pride would never allow that. Before she could decide, the front door opened.
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