ADELINE'S POV

I stayed silent as he drove, the occasional squeak of tires... those were the only sounds between us. I asked him to take me to the family house because I needed to see my father. He needed to see me. I needed him to know that I was alive.

Mikhail told me that my father had already left the hospital earlier, that he had gone home to arrange my burial.

My throat was dry. I felt so parched.

"Do you have water?" I asked.

He reached into a grocery bag on the seat and handed me a bottle. I gulped it down, greedy, like I had been dying of thirst for days.

He was still in his hospital scrubs, and somehow they made him look even more enhanced.

"You look like someone is advertising scrubs in a magazine" I said, trying to sound casual.

He gave me a flat look and shook his head. "High fashion apparently" he muttered.

Typical Mikhail.

Calm and rarely long spoken.

Traffic slowed up ahead and we paused in one spot temporarily.

"Did the news say I am dead"

He pulled out his phone, entered a passcode, and handed it to me. His feed was full of posts and headlines, some official, some blogs.

My name was everywhere.

"DEATH OF ADELINE ROYCE DISOWNED HEIRESS OF THE ROYCE FAMILY."

The article said I had fallen from the balcony at my boyfriend's foundation launch.

"Fell... accidentally of course" I said, scrolling down.

He glanced at me. "You did not fall"

"No," I said. "I did not fall."

"Then what happened?"

I looked out the window.

"I will tell you when we get to Father. For now I just want to see him as soon as I can."

"According to GPS we are almost there."

Walking into my father's house, seeing his face after so long. It felt a bit intense, especially since he had practically disowned me.

"Do you think I can step foot inside there without him throwing me out?"

Mikhail turned to me, his lips stretching into a fraction of a smile.

"Despite your differences I am pretty sure Robert will be thrilled to have his daughter revived from death."

I scratched my head awkwardly, avoiding the healing stitches.

"What if the thrill only lasts so long"

Mikhail turned to me. Black eyes boring into mine.

"He is your father. And if I may remind you he did not forsake you. You did."

××××

[FLASHBACK TO THREE YEARS AGO JANUARY 28th 2022.]

"We need the money Adeline. And what you are giving me is not going to be enough."

I crawled into his lap.

"But Conrad... the crypto plan flopped, same as the music career. And I have invested thousands of dollars in that."

He nipped at my neck.

"I know babe, I know. And I take full accountability for being a failure"

"Do not say that Conrad. Never say that." I flipped my hair over my shoulder and peered into his eyes. "I promised to support you."

And to uplift him enough for daddy dearest to finally approve.

"But you have wasted so much money on me already. And your account is burning out. Your father might grow suspicious if you keep asking him for more allowances in short spaces of time."

And we could not wait next month till my next allowance came in. Even if we did, it would not even be enough for what Conrad had planned.

"What if we take a loan from the bank or something?"

Conrad's head lowered.

"Look at me Adeline. Do I look like I have any worthy collateral for the multi-millions we need"

I had bought him new shirts. But Conrad still wore the ones with holes in them.

"What if I take out a loan? I have properties of my—"

Wait.

I did not have properties of my own anymore. I had sold them out.

"Maybe I could pawn some of my jewelry."

"You have already pawned enough. The ones left are your family heirlooms and the ones your father specifically gifts you"

"Maybe I could pawn those ones off?"

“If your father finds out you are going to be disinherited"

I bit on my fingernails.

"What if I ask Mikhail for money?"

Conrad's hand slipped under my shirt. Using my boobs like a fidget toy or a squishy was one of his most regular actions.

"Your godfather?"

I nodded.

"No Adeline. He is your father's best friend. Meaning that is where his loyalty lies and you know he dosen't like me either."

"That is a lie. Mikhail is more understanding than Father."

"He is also smarter," Conrad sighed. "No. We need to do this on our own. We need access to something big. Something solid."

I chewed my fingernails rapidly. Biting into the acrylic like candy. One big illuminated light bulb was staring me in the face. It was risky but the only available solution we had.

Conrad and I would need money to elope and set ourselves up so that Father could finally accept him.

"What if I break into my father's vault and take some money?"

His eyes nearly dislodged from their sockets when he jumped up so fast from the bed.

"Adeline…"

"We will pay it all back to him when your plans work out, yes?"

He nodded quickly.

"Of course, of course, oh my goodness, Adeline I do not know what to say"

I crawled on my knees to him. My heart was beating fast and my blood was pumping in my ears. But I had to do this for Conrad.

You made sacrifices for the ones you loved right. For the later greater good.

He hugged me back tightly, sniffling into my sleeve.

"I love you Adeline. And I am so grateful to have you by my side."

I forced a smile.

"I love you too Conrad."

~

It did not end well at all.

We had broken into the vault, wired ourselves my father's money, and we prepared to leave. He found out of course, and his heart was broken. I was not thinking and so I still wanted to leave.

My father had given me a choice.

I hand back his gold and leave Conrad who was no good for me, or I leave with what I had stolen and the love of my life. Except I would not be his daughter any longer.

I picked the latter.

Mikhail was right. I had forsaken my own father.

And boy did karma come back to push me off a terrace.

ADELINE'S POV

Mikhail swerved into the driveway. It looked different from what I remembered. More chic in a sense. He killed the ignition and alighted, putting his hand out for me to take.

The sunlight flickered in his eyes. It was almost as if

"A Adeline" A small voice came from across us.

Standing with a watering can in her hand and a pair of oversized gloves covering them was Natasha. Natasha Royce.

Not my sister though. Natasha achieved the Royce name by tying the knot with my father while we were both twenty.

"Nash"

The watering can slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground.

"Mikhail... is it... is it really her? But she, the blogs... Robert, hospital, I saw her body"

"Well, you are seeing my body again so"

One moment she was standing there looking confused and scared. The next she wrapped her hands around me in an over dramatized bear hug. Sobbing like the earth was vanishing beneath our feet.

Natasha held on to me like she was afraid I would vanish again. Her breath trembled against my ear as she whispered, "I prayed to God for a miracle and I am so happy he has heard me. You have come back to us."

I did not know what to say.

A small mmn slipped out of me instead.

We had not parted on good terms. Not even close. Our relationship had split right down the middle when I found out she had not only been dating my father but also making wedding plans behind my back.

My childhood best friend. The girl my mother practically raised like a second daughter.

Nobody told me anything. Natasha kept everything hidden and when the truth finally came to light it felt like a tilt I had never seen coming. I had distanced myself and we had not spoken since.

So right now her arms around me felt like standing in the center of a storm of emotions I could not even name.

I glanced over at Mikhail. He stood by the car with his arms crossed and the faintest amused tilt on his lips.

He looked like he was watching two feral cats awkwardly reconcile.

I looked back at Natasha. "Um... is Father around"

Natasha sniffed and nodded. "Oh yes. Robert is inside."

Before I could even move myself she grabbed my wrist gently and pulled me along.

"Come. You need to see him. He has been in his room all morning. Brooding. Refusing to speak to anyone. Not even me. You showing up will bring him back to himself."

"Okay" I said.

My voice was small even to my own ears.

We stepped inside the house and every staff member paused mid movement. A woman with a broom froze. A man carrying folded sheets stopped mid step. Someone dropped a feather duster.

All of them stared at me with wide eyes.

They looked at me like I was a ghost walking through the front door.

Because honestly who comes home after being declared dead?

×××××

Natasha had gone upstairs to call my father downstairs while I sat waiting on the sofa. A staff member slipped in quickly with the warm milk I had asked for and a plate of muffins. The moment the aroma hit me something came forth strongly. I devoured everything like I had been starved for years.

Honestly I probably had been.

My chewing was loud enough to echo and make me look like I belonged in the cavemen era.

Mikhail watched me with this calm and amusement in his eyes.

"Sorry I did not mean to chew that loudly. It is just..."

"Eat. Be as loud or unruly as you want Adeline"

Was it me or was his slightly Russian edged voice huskier than before?

"T Thanks for not minding"

He nodded and went back to simply watching me.

He dismissed the staff right after and told them to head upstairs because their stares were making me uncomfortable. Unlike his.

They gave apologetic nods before disappearing.

I took a long drink from the cup. Warm milk never tasted that good before. I offered it to him but he shook his head and said he was not hungry.

My eyes drifted to him between bites.

He looked different. Younger somehow.

Softer at the edges even though he was still cold in that familiar way but less rigid than the man I remembered. Something must have fleshed him over the years and part of me wanted to ask what. But the question stuck inside my throat.

When I shoved the last muffin into my mouth I heard footsteps coming down the stairs with no hesitation.

I turned toward the staircase. Natasha appeared first and behind her rushing down with more desperation than dignity was my father.

He looked like he had not slept in days. His eyes were red and his physique was somehow slopey.

I had not expected to see him again so soon and so automatically my nerves struck.

"Father"

Everything paused for me.

Time. Breath. Space. Etcetera.

Seeing him in the flesh after three years hit me harder than revival ever could. My throat tightened and my eyes burned. I bowed my head.

"Father," I whispered again.

He stared at me like I was a ghost he wanted to believe in but could not trust.

"I do not know what deal you made with the devil to revive you"

I shook my head. "I did not make any deal"

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. I opened it once more.

Mikhail stepped forward. "Should we give you two a moment"

"No" My father’s voice was emotional and hoarse. "Stay. I need witnesses. I need to be sure this is not a wraith wearing my daughter’s skin"

The word daughter hit me harder than anything else.

I had not heard him call me that in so long

I wanted to hug him. My body leaned toward him on instinct. But I did not have the right. Not after everything I had done. So I kept my hands at my sides and stared at the floor between us.

I cleared my throat and wiped furiously at my eyes.

"You were right about Conrad. All along you were right about him"

My gaze moved from Mikhail to Natasha then finally back to my father.

"I did not fall from the terrace. Conrad pushed me”

ADELINE'S POV

By the time I was done narrating everything that had led up until my death, my father, Mikhail, Natasha were all shocked.

"The bloody murderer." Nash whispered, shaking her head.

“The worst part about everything is that I never even saw this coming,” I said, and all their eyes turned back to me. “I mean… Fara. I never suspected for a second that she was Conrad’s daughter. There is a bit of resemblance, yes, but I always thought it was because she was his late sister’s child you know.”

“And the Mal case,” I continued, “I haven't seen him getting close with any other women so I couldn't even have the suspicion that he got married to another woman.”

I looked at Natasha. “You are the best with social media. Digging and stuff. Can you help me figure out who this Mal person is?"

Her phone was already in her hand.

“Absolutely.”

A flurry of taps followed and her brows drew together.

She turned the screen toward me.

“No. No way.”

“This is insane.”

Conrad Basquire. Married for two years, to Malinda Stewart.

Malinda Stewart. My high school bully. The girl who tormented me for years, followed me into college, made my life a full-time horror film. And Conrad had always been the one who defended me from her.

My father was beyond pissed.

“He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

I turned to Mikhail,

"Is it possible for me to change quickly and for you to take me to the news station. I want to make a statement. I want to expose Conrad publicly. I want the entire press and every social media outlet to hear the truth from my mouth.”

Mikhail nodded.

"I will be sending my full security team with you. And I will come along.”

I shook my head. “No, Dad. Please. Rest.”

Natasha immediately backed me up. “She is right. You have barely eaten. Now that you have seen your daughter alive, you need to eat. I will have the chef make you something quickly.”

Father hesitated but then sat down, I could tell he was indeed very hungry.

Natasha turned to me. “Your room is still the same. Cleaned, stocked, everything is fresh. I think you should go and shower. Change, and yeah...we will move from there.”

I felt comfort at that.

“Thank you.”

Mikhail rose to his feet. “I will run home and change,” he said. “I have a patient I must check on quickly. But I will return while the sun is high. Then we will go together to the station.”

Our eyes met, and for a heartbeat I noticed for the first time just how... raw they were.

If that made any sense.

××××

[CHANNEL 37B2 — AJAX NEWS REPORT]

This was an entrance and I had to make sure everyone felt it. Natasha had practically yelled at me in the car, telling me to go big, to milk every second of this, to make sure the world knew I was alive and that Conrad Basquire’s empire of lies was crumbling.

The headlines had been insane already

“The Heiress Rises From the Dead,” “Deal With the Devil? She is Back,”people were already spinning stories and I intended to make good use of this social media heat.

I stepped out of the car, and the sunlight caught the deep red of my lipstick. My hair was in ringlets, my dress was black and perfect. My security detail flanked me, and Mikhail followed close behind.

The channel had been briefed, and they were more than ready. A woman who had died and come back to life, who wouldn’t want that story?

The podium was already waiting, the cameras were flashing and reporters crowded around. I mounted the podium, gripping the edges tightly, taking in the sea of faces staring up at me.

I held the mic, and the room fell almost completely silent.

“Conrad is a corn,” I blurted out.

The words left my mouth wrong, and the laughter that broke out from the crowd was loud.

“That came out wrong,” I adjusted my stance and spoke again, clearly this time, “Conrad Basquire is a con man.”

The room exploded. Reporters shouted over each other, some shocked, some skeptical.

One raised a mic, pointing it at me. “Are you saying Conrad Basquire is a con man?”

“Yes,” I said, holding my ground. “And I have a story to tell, a story the public deserves to know.”

I began to recount my experiences. I told them about the lies, the fake foundation, the stolen money, the betrayal, and how Conrad had pushed me from the terrace, how he had suffocated me.

“Wait,” someone shouted. “Are you saying he pushed you off a terrace and suffocated you to finish the job? That’s criminal!”

“Yes,” I said, shaking my head. “And that foundation he ran? All lies. All a con to steal from investors and manipulate people. I believed in him once and i trusted him. I was wrong.”

A reporter stepped forward, skeptical, waving his mic.

“How do we know you weren't part of this fake foundation scam? And your so called death isn't as a result of collaboration gone wrong?”

“For the past five years, all I have done is to support Conrad and do the right thing. I believed in him. I even used my own money, and additionally stole from my father, because I thought the foundation concept was real. I did not know about the lies until it was too late.”

The next question came.

“How did you survive if you were proclaimed dead?”

I looked around at all the faces.

“I don’t know how I survived. But I’m here, and I’m exposing the truth. Conrad Basquire is a criminal, and his wife, Malinda Stewart, who was my bully in high school and college, married him despite knowing everything. They are partners in deceit, and now the world will—”

Phones started dinging, notifications blowing up across social media.

I felt Mikhail’s hand on my back.

“What is happening?”

“You’re going to want to see this,” he said.

“What?”

“Conrad is live on Instagram right now,” he said. “And you will not believe the things he is saying.”