Anya paced the opulent living room, the memory of Liam's touch on the piano keys still a phantom warmth on her skin. His abrupt departure had left a void, but also a sharp clarity. She couldn't afford to be swayed by fleeting moments of shared vulnerability. Her family's ruined legacy, the crushing debt, her own gilded captivity—these were immutable facts. Liam’s version of events, however, felt increasingly hollow. Could the situation be worse than she imagined? A cold certainty settled in her gut. She needed answers, not just a gilded cage. Seeking information was her only path. The penthouse, for all its grandeur, offered little in the way of accessible communication. Her personal phone had been 'misplaced' days ago. The large, sleek tablet provided by Liam was curated, locked down. Accessing external networks proved impossible. Each attempt to open a browser or email client resulted in a message: 'Access Restricted. Please contact your administrator.' She was truly cut off. Walking past the kitchen, Anya spotted Mrs. Albright, the head housekeeper, meticulously arranging fresh flowers. Mrs. Albright, with her kind eyes and no-nonsense demeanor, seemed like the least threatening point of contact. "Mrs. Albright," Anya began, her voice carefully casual. "I was hoping you could help me. I need to get in touch with my family's old financial advisor, Mr. Davies. Do you perhaps have contact information for him, or know who might?" Mrs. Albright paused, a delicate lily poised in her hand. Her gaze flickered, a subtle shift in her expression. "Miss Anya, I'm afraid I wouldn't have access to such details. All financial matters are handled directly by Mr. Thorne's personal office." Nodding slowly, Anya pressed on. "And who would be the best person to speak with in Mr. Thorne's office regarding such things? I'm trying to understand the full scope of my family's, well, *situation*."

Chapter 7: The Unseen Strings