The Ghost Of Riverton Manor

The metropolitan skyline appeared with cold lights as Bella stood on her balcony, the wind whipping at her coat.

The memory of Emily's voice from the video haunted her.

"They took something from me. And I'll never get it back."

She gripped the railing tighter.

Mason had tried to protect her—but silence had become its own kind of violence. The truth was out there now. Pieces were forming, like shards of a puzzle Emily had died trying to complete.

And Lang's gala was the last place any of them wanted her to be.

So that's exactly where she had to go.

---

The atmosphere in Monroe's flat was sad. His wound was wrapped but still stiff as he rested on the edge of the couch. Bella was pacing.

"You really want to walk in there?" he asked.

Bella nodded. "It's where she was recruited. Where they started grooming her, controlling her."

"And you think Lang will just… hand himself over with a confession and a champagne toast?"

"No," she said. "But I think he'll recognize me. I think I'll remind him of her. And I think that will make him reckless."

Monroe shook his head. "You're playing with fire."

"I've been burned already."

---

Three days later, Bella stood in front of a mirror, staring at the black silk dress Monroe had borrowed for her from a friend. She barely recognized herself.

Vulnerable. Dangerous. Just like Emily used to be.

She turned to Monroe. "How do I look?"

He frowned. "Like bait."

---

The gala was held in a towering museum downtown, full of politicians, CEOs, and news cameras. No one questioned her invitation. Monroe had connections. Mason had connections. Someone had pulled strings.

Bella stepped through the entrance like she belonged, heart pounding, palms slick.

She scanned the room—and there he was.

Lang.

Still silver-haired. Still elegant. A snake in a tuxedo.

And beside him, a woman Bella hadn't seen before. Mid-thirties. Sharp eyes. Cold smile. The kind of woman who watched everything and revealed nothing.

Monroe's voice crackled in her ear from the tiny bud. "Target, 6 o'clock. Lang just saw you."

Bella turned slowly—and Lang's gaze landed on her like a slow-moving storm.

He crossed the room with a champagne glass.

"Forgive me," he said, stopping in front of her. "But have we met?"

Bella smiled. "Not quite. But you knew my sister."

He froze.

Suddenly, the room became silent.

"Emily." He said her name like it tasted sour. "Of course."

"I heard this gala used to be her favorite."

Lang raised his glass. "She was… unforgettable."

Bella held his gaze. "So is betrayal."

Lang's smile thinned.

Then he leaned in close.

"Careful, Miss Rowan," he whispered. "You're not the only one who lost something. But poking dead ghosts rarely ends well for the living."

He turned and walked away before she could respond.

---

Bella stepped back, the buzz in her ear kicking in again. Monroe: "He's rattled. Good. But you've got company coming."

A waiter moved past, brushing her shoulder—except it wasn't a waiter. It was Mason.

He didn't look at her. Just slipped a note into her hand and kept walking.

She ducked into the restroom and unfolded it.

> Room 403. Upstairs. You want real answers? Be there in 10. Come alone. – M

Her fingers trembled.

This was either going to end with the truth—or her body in a dumpster.

---

Ten minutes later, she pushed open the door to Room 403.

Mason was there, already waiting.

He looked exhausted. His tie was undone. His eyes rimmed with regret.

"I had to lie," he said. "I had to protect the only thing left of her."

Bella didn't speak. She just waited.

Mason pulled out a hidden case and opened it.

Inside were files. Photos. Old ID badges. Documents with Department of Defense stamps. Names. Account numbers. Faces.

"These are the people Emily was trying to expose. Politicians. Scientists. Even people in law enforcement."

Bella leaned forward, heart in her throat.

"You have everything here. Why didn't you go public?"

Mason looked at her, tired. "Because the people at the top own the media. Own the courts. You go public with this and disappear within 24 hours."

"So what do we do?"

He reached into his coat and pulled out a key.

"This opens a safety deposit box in Zurich. Emily made me swear I'd give it to someone she trusted. I never thought I'd use it. But you… you're ready."

Bella stared at the key.

She didn't feel ready.

She felt terrified.

But Emily hadn't been ready either.

She'd done it anyway.

Bella nodded.

Then the lights flickered.

Mason turned.

"Stay behind me," he said.

The door burst open.

Three men in security uniforms pushed into the room with guns drawn.

And Lang's cold voice echoed from the hallway:

"You should've stayed out of it, little sister."