Chapter 8 Bloodline Conspiracy

# Chapter 8: Bloodline Conspiracy

The morning after Caleb's revelations found Dorian and me sharing breakfast in the penthouse's sun-drenched kitchen. The atmosphere between us had shifted—the weight of deception lifted, replaced by a tentative honesty that felt both fragile and profound.

"What will you do about Evelyn?" I asked, watching him spread marmalade on toast with precise movements.

Dorian set down his knife with a sigh. "I've frozen her access to the family accounts and removed her from the foundation board. She's been asked to vacate her suite at Blackwood Hall."

"Will she go quietly?" I couldn't imagine Evelyn surrendering her position without a fight.

"Unlikely." His mouth quirked in a humorless smile. "Evelyn has been the power behind the Blackwood throne since before I was born. She won't relinquish that easily."

I sipped my coffee, considering our next move. "Caleb's evidence suggests she manipulated the accident investigation, possibly obstructed justice in Harlow's death. Isn't that criminal?"

"Potentially, but proving it would be difficult. Evelyn is nothing if not thorough in covering her tracks." He met my gaze, his eyes—both now visible without the mask—serious. "There's something else you should know. Something I discovered last night after you went to sleep."

He retrieved his laptop and opened it to display financial records. "These are transfers from Blackwood holdings to offshore accounts, dating back five years. They began immediately after the accident and continued until six months ago."

I frowned, scanning the documents. "Blackmail payments?"

"I believe so. The timing corresponds with your father's financial troubles."

The implication hit me like a physical blow. "You think Evelyn was blackmailing my father? But why would he pay her when he was the one who tampered with your brakes?"

"Because Evelyn had proof." Dorian scrolled to another document—an email with attached photographs showing a man who was unmistakably my father speaking with a mechanic beside Dorian's distinctive vintage Jaguar. "She must have been watching him, perhaps suspecting his embezzlement from your companies' joint ventures. When he moved against me, she had evidence ready."

"So she blackmailed him, draining Kensington Holdings..." The pieces aligned with sickening clarity. "That's why our company was vulnerable to your takeover."

"It appears so." His expression was grim. "Evelyn orchestrated everything—the financial pressure on your father, the merger opportunity, even our marriage. She used my desire for revenge as a tool in her larger scheme."

I pushed away from the table, needing space to process this latest betrayal. "All this time, I thought you were the architect of my family's downfall. But it was Evelyn, manipulating everyone like chess pieces."

"We were all her pawns." Dorian stood, approaching me cautiously. "Your father, you, even me—especially me."

"What was her endgame? What could possibly be worth all this manipulation?"

"Control." Dorian's voice hardened. "After my parents died, Evelyn stepped in as my guardian. She's always believed the Blackwood empire was her birthright, denied only by the accident of being born female in a generation that favored male heirs."

I remembered Evelyn's words from the previous night: *Everything I've done has been for him, to secure his birthright.* But now they took on a different meaning—not protection, but possession.

"We need to stop her," I said, meeting Dorian's gaze. "Before she destroys anything else."

His eyes searched mine, surprise and something warmer flickering in their depths. "We?"

"Yes, we." I stepped closer, emboldened by the truth between us. "Whatever else has happened, Dorian, we're in this together now."

His hand rose to cup my cheek, the gesture tentative as if expecting rejection. When I leaned into his touch, his breath caught. "Lila—"

The moment shattered as Dorian's phone rang. He answered, his expression darkening as he listened. "When?" he demanded. "I'll be right there."

"What's happened?" I asked as he ended the call.

"The board has called an emergency meeting. Evelyn is making her move." He was already reaching for his jacket. "She's presenting evidence that I'm mentally unstable, unfit to lead the company."

"That's absurd!"

"Is it? The reclusive CEO who hides behind masks, marries the daughter of his enemy, and has now accused his beloved aunt of criminal conspiracy?" His laugh held no humor. "From the outside, it doesn't paint a picture of stability."

"I'm coming with you," I said, grabbing my purse. "She won't be expecting that."

Dorian hesitated. "Are you sure? This will be ugly."

"I'm sure." I met his gaze steadily. "No more hiding, remember?"

His expression softened. "No more hiding."

The Blackwood Industries headquarters occupied a gleaming skyscraper downtown, its glass facade reflecting clouds and sky like a vertical mirror. As our car pulled into the executive garage, Dorian turned to me.

"One thing before we go up." He reached into his pocket and withdrew his mask. "I won't be wearing this."

The significance of the gesture wasn't lost on me. For five years, Dorian had hidden his scars from the world, using the mask as both shield and symbol of his isolation. Facing the board without it was a declaration of change—and vulnerability.

"They'll stare," I warned gently.

"Let them." His jaw set with determination. "I'm done letting Evelyn use my scars as evidence of weakness."

The boardroom fell silent as we entered together. Twelve people sat around a massive table, with Evelyn at the far end—clearly having assumed the chairperson's position in Dorian's absence. Her eyes widened fractionally at his maskless appearance before her composure reasserted itself.

"Nephew," she greeted him with artificial warmth. "How kind of you to join us. We were just discussing the concerning reports about your recent behavior."

"I'm sure you were." Dorian moved to the head of the table, not relinquishing the spot Evelyn had taken. After a moment of silent confrontation, she slid to an adjacent chair. "Members of the board, I apologize for any alarm my aunt may have caused. I assure you, Blackwood Industries remains in capable hands."

"With all due respect, Dorian," said an older man I recognized as Harrison Wells, the lawyer from the masquerade, "Ms. Blackwood has presented concerning evidence. Your erratic decisions regarding the Kensington merger, your hasty marriage, and now these accusations against your own family..."

"Not to mention your sudden decision to appear... unmasked," added another board member, her gaze fixed uncomfortably on Dorian's scars.

I stepped forward. "If I may address the board?"

Evelyn's smile was venomous. "Mrs. Blackwood, this is a private meeting of—"

"As Dorian's wife and a stakeholder in both Blackwood and Kensington holdings, I have every right to speak." I met each board member's gaze in turn. "You've heard Evelyn's version of events. Now let me tell you what she doesn't want you to know."

For the next twenty minutes, I laid out everything—the truth about the accident, Evelyn's manipulation of the investigation, the blackmail of my father, and her systematic efforts to control Blackwood Industries through Dorian. As I spoke, Caleb arrived with the evidence folders, which were distributed to each board member.

Evelyn's face remained impassive, but I could see the calculations behind her eyes—assessing damage, planning counterattacks. When I finished, she rose with the smooth confidence of someone accustomed to commanding rooms.

"What a creative narrative," she said, her voice dripping condescension. "But let's examine the source. The traumatized wife of a man who's kept her virtually prisoner since their marriage. A woman desperate to escape a contract that would ruin her father if broken." She turned to the board. "Ask yourselves: who benefits from these wild accusations? Certainly not Blackwood Industries."

"And who benefits from maintaining the status quo, Evelyn?" Dorian countered. "You've been siphoning company funds for years, as these transfers show." He distributed another set of documents. "Money that disappeared into offshore accounts controlled by shell corporations that, ultimately, trace back to you."

Murmurs rippled through the board as they reviewed the financial evidence.

Evelyn's composure cracked. "Everything I did was for this company! For the Blackwood legacy that your father nearly destroyed with his weak leadership!"

"My father built this company on integrity," Dorian replied, his voice steady despite the emotion I could see in his eyes. "You've built your version on manipulation and lies."

"Lies?" Evelyn laughed bitterly. "I protected you! After the accident, the board was ready to pass you over for leadership. I created the narrative that made you sympathetic instead of damaged. I eliminated threats like Richard Kensington who would have exposed our vulnerabilities."

"You exploited my injuries for your own power." Dorian's voice hardened. "You used my desire for justice as a tool for your greed."

"It wasn't just business," I added, seeing the board members' skepticism. "Evelyn arranged the fire at Blackwood Hall that nearly killed me."

This accusation caused even Evelyn to falter. "That's absurd! I was at the cemetery—"

"Visiting your sister's grave, yes. The perfect alibi." I turned to the board. "But the fire was set by someone with intimate knowledge of the house's security systems. Someone who knew exactly where I would be and how to block my exit."

Harrison Wells frowned. "These are serious allegations without proof, Mrs. Blackwood."

"We have proof." Caleb stepped forward. "Security footage from Blackwood Hall shows Evelyn's personal assistant entering the east wing shortly before the fire started. Phone records indicate she called Evelyn immediately after leaving the premises."

Evelyn's face drained of color. "This is a coordinated attack on my character! After everything I've sacrificed for this family—"

"This ends now, Evelyn." Dorian's voice cut through her protests. "The board has the evidence. The authorities will receive copies of everything. Your choice is simple: resign from all positions with Blackwood enterprises and face the consequences privately, or fight and watch your reputation destroy itself publicly."

The boardroom fell silent as the members absorbed the gravity of the situation. Harrison Wells finally cleared his throat.

"I move that we accept Ms. Blackwood's immediate resignation and commence a full audit of all financial activities under her oversight."

The motion passed unanimously. As security escorted a shell-shocked Evelyn from the room, she paused beside me.

"You think you've won," she hissed, too quietly for others to hear. "But you have no idea what you've done. Some secrets should stay buried, for everyone's sake."

After the board meeting adjourned, Dorian and I returned to the penthouse, emotionally drained but victorious. The adrenaline that had carried us through the confrontation faded, leaving an awkward uncertainty in its wake.

"Thank you," Dorian said as we rode the private elevator upward. "For standing with me today."

"We're partners in this, remember?" I offered a tired smile.

"Partners," he repeated, testing the word. "Is that what we are now?"

The elevator doors opened to the penthouse, but instead of the empty apartment we expected, we found chaos. The place had been ransacked—furniture overturned, artwork slashed, papers scattered everywhere.

"Evelyn," Dorian breathed, surveying the destruction. "She must have come here directly after the board meeting."

I moved deeper into the apartment, heart sinking as I saw the extent of the damage. "She was looking for something."

"The evidence files are safe with Caleb," Dorian said, righting an overturned chair. "There's nothing here she could—"

"The study," I interrupted, suddenly remembering. "Your safe."

We rushed to the home office where a painting hung askew on the wall, revealing an open safe behind it. Dorian cursed under his breath as he examined the empty interior.

"What did she take?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Family documents. Birth certificates, my parents' marriage license, their wills..." He frowned, puzzled. "Nothing of obvious value or significance to our current situation."

"Unless there's something in those documents we don't know about." I recalled Evelyn's parting threat: *Some secrets should stay buried.*

Before Dorian could respond, a loud crash echoed from below, followed by the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. We froze, exchanging alarmed glances.

"She's still here," Dorian whispered, reaching for his phone to call security.

Another crash, closer this time. Footsteps on the stairs connecting the penthouse's two levels.

"This way," Dorian urged, pulling me toward what appeared to be a closet but revealed itself as a hidden passage—a service corridor for staff. "The building has a secure exit this way."

As the door closed behind us, plunging us into dim emergency lighting, I heard the study door burst open. Evelyn's voice, unhinged with rage, called out: "You can't hide from me, Dorian! I know all the secrets of this family—including the ones that would destroy you both!"

Dorian led me swiftly down the narrow corridor, his hand tight around mine. "Keep moving," he whispered. "Security will be here any minute."

But as we reached the end of the passage, the door wouldn't budge. Dorian pushed harder, then stepped back with a curse. "She's blocked it somehow."

Footsteps approached from the other end of the corridor. We were trapped.

"Dorian," I whispered urgently, "whatever happens, whatever she says—I'm with you. Remember that."

His eyes met mine in the dim light, vulnerability and determination mingled in their depths. His hand rose to cup my face, and for a brief, suspended moment, all the complications between us fell away.

"Lila," he murmured, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad you hit me with your car that night."

Despite everything, I laughed—a small, breathless sound that bridged the final distance between us. "Technically, I didn't."

"Technically," he agreed, a smile touching his lips as he leaned closer, "but it still brought us here."

As Evelyn's footsteps drew nearer, Dorian pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that felt like both a beginning and a promise—whatever secrets Evelyn held, we would face them together.