Chapter 4

Ethan' s office was the complete opposite of Liam' s flashy, ostentatious space. It was minimalist, functional, lined with books instead of awards. It spoke of a man who valued substance over style. He poured me a glass of water, his movements efficient and calm.

"So," he said, sitting across from me. "You believe Liam' s ambition is more than just wanting to run the company. You think he wants to destroy me."

"I don' t think it," I said, my voice firm. "I know it. Liam doesn' t just want to win. He wants you to lose. He' s been obsessed with surpassing you his entire life, and Bethany... she' s the tool he thinks will make it happen. Her 'gift' gives him the confidence to make reckless moves."

Ethan leaned back, studying my face. He wasn' t dismissive like Liam or my father. He was listening, analyzing. "And you believe her gift is a fraud."

"I know it is," I stated simply. I didn' t offer any proof beyond my own conviction. For now, he would have to take me at my word.

His trust was a fragile thing, but it was the only foundation I had to build on.

A few days later, Bethany, emboldened by her success in framing me, made another public prediction. She stood before a crowd of reporters, a picture of serene confidence.

"Sterling Financial," she announced. "Their new investment algorithm is flawless. It will generate unprecedented returns over the next quarter. This is a safe, secure investment for everyone still recovering from the Helios disaster."

The public, desperate for a win and easily swayed, was hesitant at first. But my father, doubling down on his faith in her, publicly announced that Hayes Industries was investing heavily in Sterling Financial. His endorsement was enough. The money started to pour in, and Sterling' s stock began to climb. For a short while, it looked like Bethany was a genius once again. The Hayes family accounts swelled with short-term, unrealized gains.

I watched it all unfold with a cold dread. I had a vision, a blinding, painful flash of insight that left me breathless. It was a stock ticker, plummeting. The date was two weeks away. Bethany was right about the surge, but she was wrong about the timing of the collapse. Her information was incomplete, a half-truth she had likely stolen from a real analyst' s report. The algorithm had a fatal flaw that would be triggered by a specific, upcoming market event.

The prophecy would fail. But not yet.

The day her prediction was supposed to come to its glorious fruition arrived. The market opened, and Sterling Financial' s stock held steady, but it didn' t surge as she had promised. A murmur of discontent began to ripple through the financial news channels.

Then, it happened. A sudden, unexpected interest rate hike by the central bank sent shockwaves through the market. It was the trigger. Sterling' s "flawless" algorithm went haywire, making a series of catastrophic trades in a desperate attempt to recalibrate. The stock didn' t just dip. It nosedived.

Panic erupted. The investors who had followed Bethany' s advice were watching their money evaporate in real-time. This time, there was no one else to blame. The lie was entirely her own.

A furious crowd of investors, larger and more volatile than the last, gathered outside the Hayes Industries headquarters. They chanted, "Liar! Fraud! Give us our money back!"

They were trying to force their way into the building. Security was struggling to hold them back.

Bethany was trapped in her new, lavish office. I saw her on the security feed, pacing back and forth like a cornered animal. Her mask of confidence was gone, replaced by pure terror.

Her phone rang. It was me. She snatched it up.

"Ava? You have to help me!" her voice was a high-pitched, desperate shriek. "They' re going to kill me! Make them go away!"

The irony was thick enough to choke on. The woman who had thrown me to the wolves was now begging me to save her from them.

"Why should I?" I asked, my voice devoid of any sympathy.

"Because... because we' re sisters!" she cried, the words sounding hollow and pathetic.

I almost laughed. I hung up the phone.

A few minutes later, Ethan and I walked out to the front steps of the building. The crowd roared at the sight of us, their anger now directed at anyone associated with the name Hayes.

Ethan raised a hand, and a surprising silence fell over the mob. His presence commanded respect.

"I am Ethan Blackwood," he announced, his voice amplified by a small speaker system. "I understand your anger. You were misled. And you will be compensated."

A murmur of disbelief went through the crowd.

"My family, in partnership with a new venture led by Ava Hayes, will guarantee your initial investments in Sterling Financial," Ethan continued. "We are setting up a fund to process your claims. You will not suffer for the deceit of others."

It was a bold, expensive move. It was also brilliant. It instantly diffused the crowd' s anger, turning their rage into relief. It positioned us, Ethan and me, as the saviors, the responsible ones cleaning up the mess.

The crowd began to disperse, their shouts of anger replaced by conversations of relief. A few of the more extreme individuals, however, remained. They broke through the security line and rushed towards the entrance. They weren' t after money anymore. They were after blood. Bethany' s blood.

They found her cowering in the lobby. One of them grabbed her, shaking her violently.

"Where' s the mark?" he screamed in her face. "A real prophet has a mark! Show us!"

In her panic, she flailed her arms, trying to push him away. The ill-fitting gold bracelet she always wore snagged on his jacket and was ripped from her wrist. It clattered to the marble floor.

Her wrist was bare. Smooth, unblemished skin. There was no mark. No shimmering gold. Nothing.

The man stared at her wrist, then at her terrified face. A look of dawning, furious comprehension spread across his face.

"She' s a fake! A complete fraud!"

The accusation echoed through the now-quiet lobby.

Bethany, completely cornered, her lies exposed to the world, did the only thing she could. She pointed a trembling finger at me.

"It was her!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "She has the mark! She' s the one who has been doing this! She' s the real witch!"

In her desperation, she had revealed my deepest secret.

She lunged at me, her nails out like claws. "You and your trash mother! You came into our house to ruin us! She was nothing but a social-climbing whore, and you' re just like her!"

The words, venomous and cruel, struck a nerve deep inside me.

I didn' t flinch. I didn' t shout. I simply looked her in the eye.

"My mother is dead, Bethany," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "But your mother is very much alive. A cocktail waitress in a casino in Vegas, isn' t she? The one your father paid off to disappear after their one-night stand. The one who makes you a bastard, not a Hayes."

The color drained from her face. The secret she and my father had guarded so carefully was now out in the open, hanging in the air for everyone to hear. The crowd gasped. The reporters, who had been filming the entire exchange, zoomed in on her horrified expression.

Liam, who had just arrived, stood frozen in the doorway, his face a mask of disbelief. He had tied his horse to this wagon, and it was now careening off a cliff. He still tried to salvage it.

"Bethany is a Hayes!" he declared, striding forward. "I will use every resource of the Blackwood family to protect her!"

Just then, a stern, commanding voice cut through the chaos.

"You will do no such thing, Liam."

Mr. Blackwood Sr., the patriarch of the Blackwood clan, stood at the entrance, his face like thunder. He had seen and heard everything.

He walked past Liam as if he wasn't there, his eyes fixed on me and Ethan.

"My grandson has made a fool of himself and this family for the last time," he announced, his voice booming through the lobby. "Liam, you are suspended from all duties at Blackwood Industries, and your inheritance is under review."

He then turned his gaze to me, his expression softening almost imperceptibly.

"The engagement between the Hayes and Blackwood families is confirmed," he declared. "Ava Hayes will marry my heir, Ethan Blackwood."