Chapter 4

Clara backed away slightly, her eyes darting toward the heavy library doors. The reality of her situation was crashing down on her, far eclipsing the initial fear of being accused of theft. If Elena Vance possessed the other half of this history, it meant Clara was standing in the very house from which she had been stolen as an infant. But more immediate than the historical revelation was the terrifying complication that threatened to blow their lives apart at any second.
“Não posso deixar o Rafael veja isso, ou ele descobrirá tudo!” Clara blurted out, her voice rising in panic as she grabbed her wrist protectively, looking up at Elena with desperate, imploring eyes.
Elena froze, the name cutting through her shock like a razor. Rafael. Her ambitious, ruthless, and increasingly unstable stepson, who was currently downstairs reviewing the quarterly financial portfolios with the estate attorneys. Rafael Vance ruled the household with an iron fist, eager to secure his complete inheritance and eliminate any potential threats to his absolute control over the family fortune. If Rafael caught sight of that bracelet, or if he connected the dots between Clara’s presence and the cold case of the missing Vance heir, the consequences would be lethal. He had spent years consolidating power, silencing anyone who questioned his legitimacy, and ensuring that no rival claimants could ever emerge from the shadows.
“Rafael must never know you wear that,” Elena said, her voice urgent and low as she stepped directly into Clara’s personal space, grabbing her shoulders firmly. “Do you understand me, girl? If he sees that stone, he won’t just fire you. He will destroy you to protect his inheritance.”
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Clara nodded frantically, tears spilling over her lashes once again. “I keep it hidden under my sleeve every day. It only slipped out when I was dusting the high shelves and the cuff caught on the molding. I didn’t mean for anyone to see it. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
Elena released Clara’s shoulders and turned toward the window, her mind racing. For years, she had suspected Rafael’s hand in the disappearance of the true heir, but she had lacked the definitive proof to challenge him without being cast out or silenced herself. Now, fate had dropped the missing piece of the puzzle right into her lap in the form of a quiet, unassuming maid. But proximity to danger was terrifyingly close. Downstairs, heavy footsteps echoed in the grand foyer, followed by the familiar, cold timbre of Rafael’s voice calling out for his stepmother. The clock was ticking, and they had seconds to establish an alliance before the wolf arrived at the library door.