The corner office on the forty-second floor was quiet, filled with the faint scent of polished mahogany and old paper. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the financial district stretched beneath the bright morning sky, but Nyx kept her attention on the two men seated across from her.
Jacob Fint looked much as she remembered from childhood—graying at the temples, dressed in a well-tailored suit that lacked the ostentatious gold pins Edmund Arden loved to flaunt.
Beside him sat Damian Wren, younger than Althea had been when she died, with sharp, perceptive eyes behind silver-framed glasses.
Several leather-bound files and certified documents lay on the table between them.
"You look so much like Althea," Damian said softly, resting his hands on the mahogany table.
"The eyes, especially," Jacob added, his voice carrying a trace of emotion. "Edmund hasn’t managed to extinguish that, at least."
"Edmund doesn’t know I’m here," Nyx replied calmly. "And I intend to keep it that way."
"He wouldn’t have any legal standing even if he did," Damian said, sliding a sheet of cream-colored paper across the desk. "Your mother made sure of that twenty-four years ago."
Nyx looked down at the handwriting.
It was fluid, elegant, and instantly recognizable from the few old letters she had hidden away as a child.
Nyx, my sweet girl—if you are reading this, know that every decision made here was to ensure your absolute freedom. Do not let anyone take what is yours.
"Your mother left specific instructions in her Letter of Wishes," Damian explained. "The trust holds Whitehill Crest and three separate investment accounts. The principal was locked until you reached twenty-four, completed your degree, and maintained two years of continuous professional employment."
"So I fulfilled those conditions months ago."
"Yes," Jacob said, checking the records on his tablet. "Everything has been cleared. The estate and the accounts are legally yours to claim."
Damian opened the main financial summary.
"The three accounts consist of an equity portfolio, a fixed-income bond reserve, and a private venture fund. Their current combined value is nineteen million, five hundred and sixty-seven thousand dollars."
He paused before continuing.
"Whitehill Crest was recently restored using the trust’s capital maintenance reserve. Its current market value is approximately eight point five million."
His gaze met hers.
"That puts the total value of your mother’s legacy at roughly twenty-eight million dollars."
Nyx stared at the figures.
Twenty-eight million dollars.
In her past life, she had spent years scavenging for moldy canned goods and scraps of copper wire just to trade for clean drinking water.
Now, sitting in a temperature-controlled office high above the city, a fortune capable of securing mountains of survival supplies sat within her reach.
"I want the investment accounts liquidated," Nyx said, lifting her eyes from the screen. "And I want Whitehill Crest officially transferred into my name."
Jacob frowned slightly.
"Nyx... liquidating nearly twenty million dollars in investments isn’t something to take lightly. Those assets have been generating steady returns for years."
"I know."
"Then may I ask what changed?" Damian asked.
His voice held no accusation, only quiet curiosity. "You’ve left the trust untouched for months. Deciding to take control of everything so suddenly suggests something happened."
Nyx looked at both men.
They were the two people her mother had trusted to protect her future from Edmund.
She couldn’t tell them about Realmfall.
But she didn’t need to treat them like strangers.
"I’ve spent most of my life allowing the Arden family to dictate what my future should look like," Nyx said, her fingers resting lightly against the edge of the folder. "I’m done doing that."
The room fell silent.
Jacob’s expression softened.
"I am leaving the Arden family’s orbit entirely," Nyx continued. "I don’t want my financial future tied to them, their businesses, or their decisions."
Neither man interrupted.
"I want complete control over my assets," she said. "And I intend to prepare Whitehill Crest properly."
Damian studied her.
"Prepare it for what?"
"A private retreat."
There was a brief pause.
"How extensive?"
"As comprehensive as possible."
Nyx’s expression remained calm. "I want independent power generation, commercial-grade water filtration and storage, reinforced security, structural upgrades, and enough supplies to keep the property functioning without relying on outside support."
Jacob exhaled slowly, somewhere between a sigh and a dry chuckle.
"Well... wealthy heiresses have certainly spent money on stranger things."
Nyx smiled.
"But that is still an enormous undertaking," he continued. "Especially if you intend to do it quickly."
"Which is why I need help."
Nyx met his eyes directly.
"I don’t have time to spend weeks searching for contractors, comparing suppliers, or arranging large-scale deliveries. I need trustworthy professionals who can handle the procurement and construction for me."
Damian’s expression sharpened with understanding.
"That can be arranged."
He leaned back slightly.
"I can put you in contact with people who regularly handle large private projects for high-net-worth clients. Procurement specialists, construction firms, security contractors—people accustomed to working quickly and discreetly."
"That would help."
"You’re truly serious about this," Damian said.
"Yes."
There was no hesitation in her answer.
Damian exchanged a brief glance with Jacob.
"Then we’ll help you get it moving."
Nyx nodded.
"How quickly can the investment accounts be liquidated?"
"The equity and bond positions should take several business days to settle," Jacob said. "The private investment account may take a little longer. I’ll handle the process and keep you informed of every transfer."
"Good."
Nyx glanced toward the documents again.
"I don’t want Edmund or anyone else in the Arden family notified."
"They won’t be," Damian said immediately.
His tone was firm enough that Nyx believed him.
"I’ll make sure all communication goes directly through you," Jacob added. "No unnecessary disclosures."
For the first time since entering the office, some of the tension in Nyx’s chest eased.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "Both of you."
Damian reached for a slim leather binder and placed it in front of her.
"These are certified copies of the trust documents, the relevant account records, and the documentation for Whitehill Crest."
Nyx opened the binder briefly.
Everything was organized with meticulous precision.
"The originals will remain in secure legal custody," Damian said. "Your property access information and the necessary transfer documents are inside. Once the title transfer is completed, Whitehill Crest will be entirely under your control."
Nyx closed the binder.
She stood and shook Damian’s hand before turning to Jacob. "Thank you for protecting my mother’s wishes all these years."
Jacob’s expression softened.
"She wanted you to have a life that belonged to you."
Nyx’s fingers tightened slightly around the binder.
I will.
~•~
A/N: The trust Nyx’s mother left for her is a lot of money, isn’t it? I wish I had that too! ╥﹏╥