Valmont Series - Inheritance Code

Chapter 1.3 - The Last Goodbye

"I don't want to be elevated," she snapped. "I want my life."

Aiden looked up from the envelope but didn't say anything.

Aria turned to her mother. "I don't even get a choice?"

Vivienne's voice remained even. "Darling, you were born into this."

"I didn't ask to be."

"You didn't have to."

Her voice dropped now, quiet and fragile.

"What if I don't want to go?"

The room stilled.

William didn't blink. "Then you'll still go. Because it's who you are."

Her voice cracked on the next word. "Friends?"

Vivienne walked to her slowly and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Aria's ear.

"The friends who follow your story," she said softly, "aren't part of this one."

Aria pulled away.

For a moment, the room felt massive. Cold. Like her childhood had just been boxed up and vacuum-sealed.

She looked at her father. "When were you going to tell us?"

"Today."

"Because of the clause."

"Because it was time."

She stared at the gold card in her hand.

It felt heavy. Not because of its weight.

Because it was real.

The silence closed in around her. And in that moment, the truth landed—harder than she expected.

This wasn't a negotiation.

It never had been.

She looked at Aiden.

He wasn't protesting. He wasn't questioning.

The atmosphere in the mansion shifted from serene to charged as Vivienne glanced at her watch. "You have ninety minutes," she announced. "No need to pack. Everything will be provided at Avalon."

Aria's eyes widened in disbelief. "Excuse me? I can't just leave without my things."

Her fists clenched at her sides, knuckles whitening as her perfect french-manicured nails dug into her palms. Her jaw tightened, and she took a sharp breath, her chest rising as she fought to control her mounting frustration. "My entire designer wardrobe? My curated shoe collection? My comprehensive skincare regimen? And what about my exclusive Dyson hairstyling tools—not available for individual sale, mind you—that I got through our connections in the modeling industry? You expect me to leave all that behind?"

William, without looking up from his tablet, interjected, his tone firm. "Download everything you need from the Cloud. Or you won't be able to access them later."

Aria's mouth opened, a retort forming, but she snapped it shut, her eyes narrowing. Clutching her iPhone, she looked horrified. "Wait. No internet? Are we going back to the Stone Age?"

Vivienne's expression remained serene. "You'll adapt."

But to Aria, anything beyond her already privileged life was unfathomable. The thought of leaving behind her curated collection of luxury items felt like a personal affront.

Determined not to be seen in her robe, Aria stormed upstairs without a word. Twenty-five minutes later, she reemerged—no longer the girl caught off guard on her birthday, but a calculated vision of style and control.