Aria’s POV
“Melba?”
Grandpa Thomas’s voice cracked through the hall like a gunshot.
The woman stepped fully into the light, her heels stopping just short of the stage. She wore confidence like armor, chin lifted, lips curved in a smile that made my skin crawl. Her hair was sleek, her posture practiced. She looked like someone who had rehearsed this moment a thousand times.
My long-lost cousin.
The woman who was supposed to be dead to the Sinclair name.
“I see you still remember me, Uncle,” Melba said smoothly. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
“That woman is a liar,” Grandpa Thomas snapped, pointing at her. “She was exiled. She has no claim to this family, to this company, to anything.”
Melba laughed softly. “Exiled by you, perhaps. But not by law.”
The board leaned in immediately,
