CHAPTER 437: CHAPTER 437: TRUE FACE

"Did she finally send someone to deliver the one million dollars? Or..." his voice dropped, "...are you from the police? If this is some kind of investigation, I am not saying anything. I will not get involved."

Theodore shook his head and raised both hands in a gesture of sincerity.

"No. I’m not here to cause you trouble. I just... I need the truth." His voice caught slightly before he steadied it.

"I will pay you $20,000. Just show me any proof you have... audio, video, anything. After that, I will leave. I won’t tell anyone what happened here. I don’t even think it’s something shameful. I only... need to understand."

The bakery owner stared at him for several seconds, long enough to evaluate the pain in Theodore’s eyes, the urgency in his voice, and the sincerity in his posture.

Finally, the tension eased from his shoulders. He sighed and gave a small nod.

"Come with me."

He led Theodore into a small office behind the counter, a narrow room that smelled faintly of cocoa and coffee beans.

He opened a drawer, pulled out a small black USB drive, and plugged it into his laptop. After a moment, a video appeared on the screen.

In the recording, Eleanor sat across from the bakery owner at a small round table.

Her hair was tied up loosely, and she looked tired, but determined. Her eyes were clear, sharp, and focused.

"Limit your cookie sales," Eleanor said firmly. "Only make them in small amounts. No public displays, no social media. Sell only through me. And in five years, I will pay you one million dollars."

The old man nodded in the video, shaking Eleanor’s hand.

The agreement was simple. Clear.

There was no hesitation. No dishonesty in her tone. She had made the pact earnestly, with full intent.

Theodore stared at the screen, his pulse ringing in his ears. He could barely hear the end of the video over the sound of his own heartbeat.

She never baked anything herself.

Every time he praised her effort, every time he thanked her, every time he felt warmth from those cookies... it had all been made by someone else.

Why?

The question echoed in his chest, louder than his thoughts.

He reached into his pocket, took out the agreed amount, and placed the $20,000 on the counter beside the laptop without another word.

Theodore walked out of the bakery with a hollow expression, his footsteps slow and unsteady, as though each one weighed more than his body could bear.

The city’s sounds blurred around him, cars passing, distant chatter, the faint breeze rustling dry leaves, yet none of it reached him. His chest felt tight, and his thoughts spun in disordered loops.

’Why would Eleanor make such a pact? Where did she get the confidence to promise one million dollars? And why that bakery specifically?’

Every question deepened the ache rather than answering it.

Aurora walked beside him in silence, observing him from the corner of her eye. His body language was tense, his face eerily calm in a way that hinted at how hard he was fighting to hold himself together.

Finally, she blinked and spoke softly, "What’s wrong? You look like you’ve lost your way."

Theodore didn’t answer at first. He kept staring ahead, jaw clenched. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

"I... have a friend who found himself in a difficult situation."

Aurora raised an eyebrow. "A friend," she repeated, tone flat. "Of course. It’s always a friend."

Theodore sighed. "Please. Just listen."

Aurora folded her arms, signaling she would not interrupt again.

"The friend had someone very close to him," Theodore said slowly. "Someone who always brought him cookies... claiming they were handmade. He valued them. They meant something to him."

His voice wavered, barely noticeable, but Aurora noticed.

"But today, the friend discovered that the cookies were never homemade. They were from a bakery, and that person had made a deal with the bakery owner. A five-year contract. A promise of one million dollars."

Aurora’s expression didn’t change. She simply listened.

"And now," Theodore murmured, "my friend is confused. He doesn’t understand why she did all of that. Why would she lie? Why that bakery? Why that amount? Why even make such a promise in the first place?"

Aurora looked at him for a long, quiet moment.

Then she asked calmly, "The friend you’re talking about... is you, isn’t it?"

Silence.

Theodore didn’t answer, but the silence admitted the truth.

Aurora let out a small sigh, not mocking, not dismissive, just resigned. "You really don’t know, do you?"

Theodore looked at her sharply. "Do you know? Or are you just enjoying watching me fall apart?"

Aurora gave a faint laugh. "I don’t enjoy seeing you like this. You’re my brother. I’ll tell you what I can."

She paused as they reached the sidewalk, then continued quietly, her tone thoughtful.

"Some people act only after planning far ahead. And Eleanor... she likely knew something you didn’t."

Theodore frowned. "What do you mean?"

Aurora stopped walking and turned to face him fully.

"Have you ever considered the possibility that Eleanor always knew about your future? That she knew you would become successful? That she knew your value long before others did?"

Theodore stared at her, stunned. "How could she possibly know something like that? No one can see the future."

Aurora’s voice was steady.

"You’d be surprised. There are people who sense things. Predict things. Remember things they shouldn’t. Maybe Eleanor was one of them."

Theodore shook his head.

"If she really saw the future, why didn’t she choose me from the start? Why did she run after Matteo? Why act like someone who didn’t care?"

Aurora smiled a small, bitter smile.

"Sometimes visions are misleading. Maybe she thought Matteo’s path was brighter. Richer. More powerful. Maybe she believed staying with him would give her a better life. But when she realized how flawed he was... and how wrong her vision had been, she shifted her direction. Towards you."

Theodore’s jaw tightened. The explanation sounded logical, but it still felt wrong.

"And the one million dollars?" he pressed. "How did she plan to get that?"

Aurora gave a light shrug.

"She didn’t need to have it. She only needed the confidence that she could get it. Engaged to Matteo. Close to you. Surrounded by wealth in every direction. All she needed to do was marry into money. Then the one million would be nothing."

Theodore’s eyes widened slightly, the implication sharp and painful.

"So you are saying," he said slowly, "that she chose me... for what I would become? For what could I give her?"

Aurora didn’t answer immediately. Her silence was answer enough.

The wound was not that Eleanor lied about making cookies. The wound was why she did it.

Theodore swallowed hard.

Aurora continued gently,

"Isn’t it strange? Every time you were upset, she appeared. Every time your day was about to go terribly, she was already there. It’s almost as if she always knew when you would fall. And she never told you how to avoid the pain, she just waited to comfort you afterward."

A cold realization crawled across Theodore’s mind.

Because if she prevented his hardships, she couldn’t play the role of the one who understood him.

He looked at Aurora, voice barely audible. "How sure are you?"

Aurora paused. Then she spoke deliberately, each word slow and clear.

"Do you remember the letter I wrote? To every member of the family, before I fell into a coma?"

Theodore stiffened. That letter. The one who had predicted events that none of them had known at the time.

Slowly, he turned to look at her, really look.

"You..." his voice caught. "You saw something?"

Aurora nodded. Softly. Sadly.

"I had dreams," she admitted. "I wasn’t allowed to say much then. But I saw all of us. And Theodore... I saw you die. Not by accident. Not because of illness. But because of a blonde girl with blue eyes."

Theodore felt his heartbeat stop.

Eleanor.

Of course.

He remembered the first time Aurora met Eleanor, the sudden tension in her face, the coldness that made no sense then.

Now, it made perfect sense.

Aurora placed a hand on Theodore’s shoulder. "I never hated her for no reason. I saw what would happen. I tried to change fate."

The world felt suddenly too sharp, too clear.

Aurora took her phone out.

"And if you still don’t believe me..." she said quietly, typing rapidly, "I’ll show you where she is right now."

A map loaded. A blinking location marker shone brightly.

Harmony Mall.

Aurora let out a sigh. "Funny thing. Emily gifted me Harmony Mall. I have full access to surveillance."

Before Theodore could respond, Aurora tapped again, and the security footage appeared.

There she was. Eleanor.

Walking into a luxury boutique. Laughing. Smiling brightly.

And behind her, Matteo, arms full of shopping bags, his posture hunched under the weight of expensive purchases, Eleanor clearly had no intention of paying for.

Eleanor stepped out of the store with a satisfied expression, light, carefree, pleased.

Theodore didn’t need Aurora to explain anything.