The first leak did not come from the Blackwoods.
That was what shocked Adrian most.
He woke before sunrise to the vibration of his phone, a sharp, insistent sound cutting through the fragile calm of the morning. For a split second, he allowed himself to hope it was nothing, an early meeting reminder, a routine message from the office.
Hope died the moment he saw the headlines.
ANONYMOUS SOURCE QUESTIONS BLACKWOOD ACQUISITION PRACTICES.
FINANCIAL WATCHDOG OPENS PRELIMINARY REVIEW INTO BLACKWOOD GLOBAL.
WHAT IS THE BLACKWOOD EMPIRE HIDING?
Adrian sat up slowly, the room spinning just enough to remind him that this was real. The silence had broken, and it had done so without permission.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, staring out the window at the estate grounds. The lawns were immaculate, the fountains still flowing, the illusion of control perfectly intact. It was almost cruel how unchanged everything looked.
Downstairs, voices were already raised.
Leonard's.
Adrian moved quickly, taking the stairs two at a time. The study doors were open, and inside, the atmosphere was electric with fury. Leonard stood behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear, his expression thunderous. Victor hovered nearby, pale but alert. Eleanor sat stiffly on the couch, hands folded so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
"Do not insult me," Leonard snapped into the phone. "You will release a statement denying everything, today."
He ended the call and turned as Adrian entered.
"So," Leonard said coldly, "it begins."
Adrian met his gaze. "We didn't release anything."
Leonard laughed, sharp and bitter. "Do you think that matters?"
Victor stepped forward. "The board is panicking. Investors are asking questions we can't answer yet."
"Yet," Leonard echoed. "That word is the problem."
Eleanor finally spoke. "Isabella?"
"She's in her room," Adrian said. "Where you told her to stay."
Leonard's eyes narrowed. "Bring her."
"No," Adrian replied.
The word landed heavily.
Leonard straightened. "You forget yourself."
"I remember exactly who I am," Adrian said. "And I won't let you use her as a shield."
Victor interjected, trying to sound reasonable. "This isn't the time for family drama."
"This is exactly the time," Adrian snapped. "The empire is bleeding, and you're worried about appearances."
Leonard slammed his hand on the desk. "I built this empire from nothing."
"You built it on people," Adrian shot back. "And now they're speaking."
Silence followed, thick and volatile.
By midmorning, Blackwood Tower was under siege. News vans lined the streets. Social media erupted with speculation, outrage, and disbelief. Analysts dissected decades of deals. Old names resurfaced, stories long buried clawing their way into the light.
Adrian stood in his office, watching the chaos unfold from thirty floors above ground. His phone rang constantly, board members, politicians, international partners. Some demanded explanations. Others quietly distanced themselves.
Power, he realized, was loyal only when it was safe.
Isabella joined him just after noon. She looked tired but resolute, her eyes clear despite the storm gathering around them.
"It's spreading faster than we thought," she said.
Adrian nodded. "Someone else has evidence."
"Mara?"
"Possibly," he replied. "Or someone who's been waiting longer than we know."
Isabella leaned against the window. "Father won't surrender."
"No," Adrian agreed. "He'll retaliate."
As if summoned by the thought, Victor burst into the office, his composure finally cracking. "Leonard is calling an emergency board vote."
Adrian stiffened. "For what?"
"To remove you," Victor said flatly. "Effective immediately."
Isabella's breath caught. "He can't."
"He can," Victor replied. "And he will. He's blaming you for the instability."
Adrian laughed quietly. "Of course he is."
Victor hesitated. "You still have time to step back. Publicly deny involvement. Let him take control of the narrative."
"And Isabella?" Adrian asked.
Victor looked away. "Collateral damage."
Adrian's decision crystallized in that moment, sharp and irreversible.
"No," he said.
Victor's face hardened. "Then you leave me no choice."
He turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him like a final warning.
Within the hour, the board meeting was underway. Adrian joined remotely, Isabella seated beside him, her presence a quiet act of defiance. Faces filled the screen, men and women who had dined at the Blackwood table, who had profited from its silence.
Leonard appeared last.
"We are facing a coordinated attack," Leonard began smoothly. "And it is coming from within."
Adrian leaned forward. "You mean accountability."
Leonard ignored him. "I propose a temporary restructuring. Adrian will step down while we stabilize."
Isabella spoke. "You mean while you bury the truth again."
Murmurs rippled through the board.
Leonard's eyes flashed. "This is not your place."
"It is exactly my place," Isabella replied. "I'm an heir. And I refuse to inherit lies."
One by one, board members spoke, some cautious, some condemning, some openly afraid. The vote was close. Too close.
In the end, Leonard's motion failed by a single margin.
For the first time in decades, Leonard Blackwood had lost control of his own board.
The meeting ended abruptly. Adrian exhaled, his hands shaking despite himself.
"That was only the first battle," Isabella said softly.
"Yes," Adrian replied. "But it matters."
That night, the estate felt hostile.
Leonard did not speak to them at dinner. Eleanor watched silently, her loyalty torn between husband and children. The house itself seemed to hold its breath.
Later, Adrian found Isabella in the garden, standing beneath the old oak tree where they had once played as children.
"Do you regret it?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Do you?"
"No," he said. "But I'm afraid."
She smiled sadly. "So am I."
They stood together in the darkness, aware that the Blackwood name, once unshakable, was now vulnerable.
Upstairs, Leonard sat alone in his study, staring at the same portraits that had once comforted him. For the first time, they did not look like kings.
They looked like ghosts.
The empire had begun to bleed.
And blood, once spilled, could never be gathered back into silence.
Somewhere beyond the gates, unseen witnesses watched the Blackwood legacy fracture, knowing history was shifting, and that silence, once broken, would echo through generations yet unborn, with devastating consequences ahead.