Chapter 6 - The Night Ana Stood Between Two Men Who Wanted to Own Her FutureAlexander's estate was surrounded by armed men.
Brooks and Ana entered through the front.
Marcus was there.
So was Alexander.
The old man smiled when he saw Ana.
“My granddaughter.”
Ana stared.
“I am not yours.”
“You have my blood.”
“That doesn't make you my family.”
Alexander laughed.
“You sound like your father.”
Brooks stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Alexander looked at him.
“You always did have a weakness for lost women.”
Brooks raised his gun.
Ana touched his arm.
“Don't.”
He lowered it.
Alexander smiled.
“There.”
“You see?”
“She controls you.”
Brooks answered:
“No.”
“She matters to me.”
Alexander's smile disappeared.
Ana stepped closer.
“You wanted me because of money.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted the trust.”
“Yes.”
“You killed my father.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to kill my mother.”
“Yes.”
“And you think I'm going to give you anything?”
Alexander laughed.
“You don't understand the law.”
Then he revealed the trust documents.
The trust had one condition.
Ana had to willingly transfer control.
Without her signature, Alexander couldn't access the money.
He needed her cooperation.
That was why he had never killed her.
He needed her alive.
Ana smiled.
“You made one mistake.”
“What?”
“You assumed I was afraid of losing money.”
She took the documents.
Then tore them in half.
Alexander's face changed.
“You foolish girl.”
“No.”
She looked at Brooks.
“I learned something.”
“What?”
“Freedom is worth more than inheritance.”
Brooks smiled.
“Exactly.”
Federal agents stormed the building.
Marcus was arrested.
Alexander was taken into custody.
The trust was secured.
The evidence was released.
The organization collapsed.
Brooks surrendered the remaining criminal assets.
He testified.
He exposed everyone.
He lost billions.
He didn't care.
One evening, Ana found him sitting alone in his empty office.
“You're leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Can I come?”
He looked up.
“Ana.”
“What?”
“I don't know how to give you a normal life.”
She smiled.
“Then don't.”
“What?”
“Give me a real one.”
He stood.
“You don't know what you're asking.”
“Yes.”
She walked toward him.
“I've spent my whole life being told who I was.”
“By whom?”
“Everyone.”
“And now?”
“Now I get to choose.”
He looked into her eyes.
“And what do you choose?”
“You.”
The room went silent.
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As though he were afraid she might disappear.
She pulled him closer.
“I thought you were dangerous.”
“I am.”
“You still are.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“But not to me.”
He rested his forehead against hers.
May you like
“No.”
Not anymore.
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