The Inheritance Contract

anhattan, even the air seemed to vibrate with ambition, power, and the seductive scent of money. Julian Thorne, CEO of Thorne Industries and hei

leeps. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking tapestry of glittering lights, reflecting off the dark expanse o

tension, Julian," a sardonic

ng the inner sanctum. Liam, with his easygoing charm and uncanny ability to read Julian like an open boo

ead, or the way I'm grinding my teeth to dust?" Julian q

arp intellect. He settled into one of the sleek leather chairs facing Julian's imposing mah

ed, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "Come now, old friend, spill it. What's got you so riled up? Another hostile takeover? A

ace of the desk. Liam was right, of course. The upcoming engagement party, a lavish affa

ding rivaled that of the Thornes. On paper, she was the perfect match-a strategic allian

e best negotiated on paper, far from th

d be," Julian conceded, his voice ca

ulian," Liam interrupted, his tone softening. "What is it you're truly searching for? You've achiev

ability to navigate the world with an ease and openness that seemed forever out of reach. Liam, who wore his hea

w what I wanted," Julian finally said, his vo

tructed composure. Liam, ever perceptive, didn't press. He knew the story, the tragedy that had shaped Julian into the man he wa

le, "we find solace in the most unexpected of plac

ike you've been reading too many of those self-

ing to be said for a little bit of hope,

y composed, though a knowing gleam flickered in her eyes. She'd been with the family for as long as Julian could remember,

a hint of amusement, "a rather... intriguing

time he'd received a delivery that didn't involve legal documents, stock

s petite, dwarfed by the imposing surroundings, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, revealing wide, ex

t was the kind of book that belonged in a dusty antique shop, not the gleaming tower of Thorne Industries. And as Julian met

ealth and polished marble separated her from the rest of the room. Her gaze, wide

of the curiosity simmering beneath the surface. He rose from his se

eady, her gaze holding his with a touch of defiance

of warmth in the sterile environment. He gestured toward the plush seating area near

clutching the old book tighter. "

ontrast to the polished perfection of his world, was... intriguing. She rad

cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should give you two a moment o

en question. He waited until Liam had exited, the door closin

Bell

rupted gently, a hint of

, your late-night summons intrigued me. The Oak Room at The Plaza se

imagine a man like you doesn't receive many mysterious pho

rld, it's practically a Tuesday." He gestured toward the worn book in her hand.

table between them. The setting sun cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the book

ng, a secret language whispered through petals and thorns." She opened the book, revealing a faded inscription on th

e inscription: To my dearest Eleanor, may these pages always remi

ease settling in his gut. It was absurd, of course. This young woman, this bookselle

ng on a precipice, the ground shifting beneath his fe

ss this book?" Julian asked, his

"is a story for another time. But I believe you know more about its significance than you're letting o

flustered Margaret, her face pale. "Mr. Thorne," she gasped, her vo