Chapter 2 - The Ghost of the Past
The name hung in the cramped, freezing room like a blade falling through thin air.
DuPont.
Étienne DuPont, one of the most powerful industrialists in France, a man whose name was whispered in boardrooms and financial dailies, froze in the doorway of the derelict flat. His gaze locked onto the pale, skeletal face of Henri Morrow. For a fraction of a second, confusion flickered in Étienne’s eyes, replaced quickly by the cold, analytical armor of a man accustomed to managing crises.
"Henri?" Étienne's voice was a low rasp. "Henri Morrow?"
"You didn't expect to see me here, did you?" Henri coughed, a wet, rattling sound that made Leia flinch and rush to his side with a glass of water. Henri waved her away gently, his eyes never leaving the billionaire. "You probably thought I was buried in a pauper's grave outside Marseille, or rotting in some debtors' prison."
Leia looked back and forth between them, terror tightening her chest. "Papa... you know him? You know Monsieur DuPont?"
"I know him, my star," Henri said, his voice trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and ancient fury. "I knew him when we were young men with big dreams and offices on the Boulevard Saint-Germain. I knew him when he was a partner who smiled while he buried the knife between my shoulder blades."
Étienne stepped closer, ignoring the peeling wallpaper and the damp chill of the room. His jaw tightened. "Henri, that was fifteen years ago. The markets crashed. The merger failed. It was business—survival of the fittest. I didn't ruin you; bad timing and your own stubborn refusal to adapt did."
"Survival?" Henri let out a bitter, cracking laugh that ended in a spasm of coughing. "You locked me out of the corporate accounts. You forged my signature on the transfer documents while my wife was dying in a hospital bed. You left me with the debts of the entire firm while you walked away with the patents, the capital, and the clean record! You took everything—my reputation, my career, my wife’s dignity, and nearly my life."
The silence in the room became absolute. The wind howled against the single cracked pane of glass, rattling the wooden frame.
Leia stared at Étienne, the hero who had promised a reward, now transformed into the villain of her father's darkest nightmares. The gold card in his wallet, the tailored coat, the expensive shoes—they were all built on the ruins of her family.
Étienne looked down at the floor, the memory of that ruthless winter fifteen years ago flashing before his eyes. He had justified it then. Ambition is a ruthless master. He had told himself Henri was weak, that in the brutal arena of high finance, sentimentality was a liability.
He looked up at Leia. The girl who had chased him through the snow, holding his wallet with trembling fingers, refusing to steal even when her father was dying.
And she was Henri’s daughter.
"You raised a remarkable child, Henri," Étienne said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual boardroom arrogance. "She had every reason to keep my money. She could have bought your medicine and let me suffer the loss. Instead, she ran after me."
"Because she has my heart," Henri whispered fiercely. "A heart you tried to rip out years ago."
Étienne reached into his pocket—not for his wallet, but for his phone. He dialed a number with practiced speed.
"Get a medical team here immediately," Étienne commanded into the phone, his voice brooking no argument. "Bring a private ambulance, a respiratory specialist, and whatever equipment is necessary. Address is 44 Rue de Lappe, top floor. Do it now."
May you like
He hung up before waiting for a reply.
"I don't want your charity, DuPont," Henri spat, turning his head away. "Get out of my home."
