I came home early and found my housekeeper shaving my dying mother's hair, but the secret my mother revealed next destroyed my world.

The funeral was held at the historic cathedral downtown, attended by over five hundred people—politicians, corporate leaders, judges, and high-ranking syndicate figures from across the country.

The sanctuary was filled with white lilies, my mother's favorite flowers.

I stood at the head of the center aisle dressed in a tailored black suit. Standing directly beside me, holding my arm for support, was Clara. She wore an elegant black wool dress, her dark hair pulled back, her composure dignified and resolute.

The whispers in the pews were loud enough to hear.

"Who is that girl standing with Bennett Hale?"

"I heard she's Marcus Hale's daughter... recognized right before Eleanor died."

"She owns half the Hale empire now..."

I ignored the whispers. I kept my chin high, guiding Clara as we walked behind the mahogany casket carried by six uniformed pallbearers.

Victor Moretti stood near the back of the cathedral, surrounded by his personal guards. As I passed his pew, he locked eyes with me, his expression bitter and dark with suppressed rage. He had lost his chance to dismantle the Hale family through legal technicalities, but I knew the man too well—he would not accept defeat quietly.

After the burial service at the family mausoleum, the guests gathered at the estate for the traditional reception.

Clara stood near the fireplace in the grand living room, holding a glass of sparkling water, accepting polite condolences from corporate executives who, weeks prior, wouldn't have spared her a glance on the street.

I approached her, handing her a small napkin. "You're handling this very well, Clara."

"I hate them," Clara whispered softly, keeping a polite smile on her face as a senator walked past. "None of these people cared about her. They are here to see who holds the power now."

"Welcome to high society, sister," I said dryly, taking a sip of my whiskey. "They are vultures. But as long as we stand together, they can't touch us."

Before Clara could reply, Dominic stepped quickly into the room, leaning close to my ear.

"Boss," Dominic whispered, his tone tense. "Victor Moretti just left the estate grounds. But our perimeter security team reported that two of his tactical vehicles pulled off into the tree line near the south gate."

My eyes narrowed. "He's planning a move tonight."

"He knows the household security is distracted by the funeral crowd," Dominic warned. "What are your orders?"