She Pointed at My Sister in an Old Family Portrait—Then a New Photo Proved the Woman Who Died Nine Years Ago Was Still Alive.

The grandfather clock began to chime. Deep, resonant bells echoed through the tense silence of the study.

One. Two. Three.

Nicholas did not take his eyes off the locked door. The truth of the entire grand deception finally pieced itself together in his brilliant mind. The medical records. The sudden appearance of a child.

"Lucy isn't Uncle Antonio's descendant, is she?" Nicholas said aloud to the empty room, his voice steady over the sound of the chiming clock.

Maria looked up, trembling. "What?"

"My sister was a genius," Nicholas continued, the pieces locking into place. "She knew that if she survived the explosion nine years ago, the rival families would never stop hunting her. So, she faked her death. But she was pregnant before she disappeared. She had a son. Your husband, Maria."

Maria gasped, burying her face in Lucy's soft blonde curls.

Nine. Ten. Eleven.

"She waited," Nicholas said, his gray eyes narrowing. "She hid in the shadows until her son had a child of his own. A child young enough to trigger the ancient trust clause. She forged the hospital records to point to our uncle to keep me distracted, but Lucy is a direct descendant. She is Elena's granddaughter. And as her closest blood relative, Elena becomes her legal guardian. Elena gets the empire."

Twelve.

Midnight struck. Day thirty had arrived.

The security screens on Marco's laptop instantly went completely black. The bright lights of the chandelier flickered and dimmed to a warm, low glow. The electronic lock on the study door beeped once, a green light flashing as the override code was entered from the outside.

The brass handles slowly turned. The heavy oak doors pushed open.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the shadows of the hallway, was a striking white American woman. Her auburn-brown hair fell perfectly over her shoulders, and her intelligent green eyes gleamed with absolute triumph. She wore a flawless emerald-green suit, looking every bit the queen who had just reclaimed her throne.

Elena Moretti looked across the room, her gaze passing over a terrified Vivienne, a shocked Maria, and settling directly on the tall, imposing figure of her brother.