The boardroom of Moreaux Tower's 88th floor was quieter than a cemetery. A long, glossy table stretched beneath a grand chandelier designed to look like falling stars. Mr. Arvid, Ceo of Ruxin group and Mr. Theron, Ceo of Kaelin corporation were already there.
I sat at the head of the table—as always calm, masked on, unreadable.
Arvid Ruxin adjusted his cufflink with the smugness of a man who'd never been denied anything in his life. His designer suit screamed money. Across from him, Theron Kaelin leaned back in his chair like half-bored, half-curious. He looked older than I remembered, grey streaks chasing through his once-raven hair, jaw stiffer, but that same calculating gaze still lingered.
He hadn't recognized me, of course. Even now, he was staring at me like I was just another shark in the water. Not the boy he abandoned.
Not the blood he cast out.
And I preferred it that way.
"Mr. Moreaux," Arvid finally said, his voice dipped in fake charm. "We appreciate your time. Let's talk business, shall we?"
I glanced at Shan, who gave a crisp nod and tapped the tablet in front of me. A 3D projection of the Eastern Suburb Revitalization Project lit up the center of the room—roads, hospitals, green zones, smart grids, and luxury eco-friendly housing. My brainchild.
"Our Eastern Suburb project," I began, voice even, "isn't just another investment playground. It's a future-ready infrastructure dream—designed to integrate sustainable living with cutting-edge urban tech. Smart homes. Green transit. AI-enhanced emergency response systems. You're not just building houses. You're building a legacy."
Theron Kaelin lifted an eyebrow. "Ambitious."
I looked at him briefly, then away, as if he were no more important than the coffee tray.
"Yes," I replied smoothly. "Which is why I have to ask—"
I leaned forward, fingers steepled.
"Why should I give either of you this project? And why should I invest in your companies when both have been bleeding capital and credibility for the last two quarters?"
Arvid's jaw tightened, barely. Theron looked amused. Like he thought I was posturing.
Good.
Keep underestimating me, old man.
"Ruxin Group has the land rights and the best supply chain in the east," Arvid said confidently. "We can bring the project to scale without delay."
"And the Kaelin Corporation," Theron cut in with a smirk, "has the manpower and legacy contracts to make this a reality. If you want speed and political power, he shrugged "we're your best bet."
I clicked my tongue softly, amused. "You're both hoping I'll pick one of you as a lead... but I don't operate on charity or nostalgia."
My gaze drifted back to Theron. "Legacy doesn't impress me.
He frowned faintly, clearly unsure how to take that.
I didn't give him time to respond.
"I want to see numbers. Updated projections. What percentage of the project will you actually fund yourselves? What tech will you implement? What regulatory bottlenecks are you anticipating, and how do you plan to solve them without calling in favors from compromised officials?"
Arvid raised a brow. "You don't believe in old-school diplomacy?"
I smiled under my mask. "I believe in efficiency. Old-school diplomacy is just code for bribery."
Theron shifted. "You want clean business in a dirty industry. That's a fairytale, Mr. Moreaux."
"No," I said, standing slowly. "It's the future. And only people who can adapt will be invited into it."
Shan slid forward with two folders—sealed proposals for each group. I didn't look at them.
"You each have 72 hours to submit your revised plans. Pitch me like you've got one bullet left and the fate of your empire depends on it. Because it does."
My eyes flicked to Theron. Still no recognition. Neither a flicker nor even a ghost of paternal instinct. He didn't recognize the son he once disowned.
And it made me stronger.
"Meeting adjourned," I said.
Both of them stood, chairs scraping against marble.
"Mr. Moreaux," Arvid said, "You're ruthless."
"I'm realistic," I corrected.
He tilted his head. "If you ever consider switching sides, Ruxin Group has room at the top."
I let out a faint chuckle. "I already own the sky. Why would I climb your ladder?"
[Later, in the private elevator with Shan]
Shan handed me a water bottle, brows furrowed. "That was intense."
I removed my mask briefly, letting out a slow breath.
"He still didn't recognize you," Shan said quietly, not needing to clarify who.
"I wasn't expecting him to," I replied. "The Kaelins see what they want to see. As long as they believe Lucien Kaelin is dead, I'm free to bury them alive in business."
Shan didn't argue.
I leaned against the elevator wall, eyes drifting to the city skyline.
"Still no text from Dr. Solace?" Shan asked after a beat.
I didn't respond. Just checked my phone again.
Still nothing.
---
Later that night, after a long hot shower and a mental replay of every icy jab I'd delivered in the boardroom, I lay sprawled across my bed, bare-chested, arm slung over my eyes, half-dead with exhaustion. The city lights blinked through the floor-to-ceiling windows like distant satellites. My mind was finally beginning to shut down, ready to surrender to blissful sleep.
Ding.
I ignored it.
Who the hell would bother me at this hour? I'd already silenced Shan. If it was another email from our Singapore office, they could wait. The world could burn for all I cared—I was not moving.
Ding.
I groaned, half-turning. Fine. Just one peek. Then I'd go back to pretending to be a corpse.
I reached for my phone and glanced at the screen.
From: Dr. Arno Theryn Solace.
My heart...skipped a beat.
For a full two seconds, I stared at the name as if it might change if I blinked hard enough.
Arno? Texted me?
I opened it fast, like a man defusing a bomb.
Thank you again. For everything. Especially for not making it feel like pity. I… I just wanted to say that. Goodnight.
Simple.The kind of message that could be copied from a medical etiquette handbook and passed around in group chats.
Still... it was from her.
I stared at the glowing screen. My thumb hovered above the keyboard.
And then I typed:
Why?
I pressed send before I could stop myself. No emojis. Just one clean word.
My screen stayed dark.
No reply.
I tossed the phone onto the nightstand and flopped back down, covering my face with both hands.
I could win wars, bury titans alive in their own ledgers, and silence men twice my age with a single look.
But one text from her, and I'm suddenly seventeen again...unsure, ridiculous, waiting for someone who may never reply.
"Damn it, Solace," I muttered, dragging the pillow over my head.
---
The next day:
Shan was shocked to see his dear President.
Mr. Moreaux, how did you end up with dark circles in a night? Shan asked, voice concerned.
One more word, and your salary for this month will be gone...
Then I leaned on the table to sleep.
It was a long night, I muttered in an audible voice before sleep took me in.
---