In the silence of the early morning, a single email ripped through the Hayes corporate servers like a shot in the dark. Employees hunched over their screens, wide-eyed as fragments of half-truths appeared across lines of text: allusions to secret money and coy mentions of Soren’s alleged infidelities. While few details directly identified Celeste, the silence surrounding her role ignited intense intrigue. What had begun as whispers had grown into speculation, with some wondering if she had orchestrated the leak in an attempt to keep her position beside Caspian. Caspian, meanwhile, learned about the email through his bleary-eyed assistant, who stammered an explanation as the board’s frantic calls blew up his phone. It had him double over with anxiety because while the allegations appeared to spare Celeste, they raised new questions about his leadership. The mood in the executive suites was tense, every conversation laden with caution. He attempted to compose himself, his well-tailored suit and perfect stride bringing him some confidence as he walked to the boardroom, but it was harder to ignore the whispers that trailed behind him. When he passed her office, Valentina’s concerned expression rose to meet him, perhaps mirroring his own fear: that Soren’s disreputable interactions and Caspian’s wobbly footing could bring the whole thing down.
He came in to see the board seated in a tense semicircle, their shiny shoes clicking on the floor. One senior member, silver-haired and sharp-eyed, wasted no time recapping the fallout. The half-truths about mismanaged accounts and talk of Soren’s personal entanglements could have salvaged Celeste’s reputation, but they fanned further doubt about the leadership of Hayes Enterprises. Another, voice taut with contained exasperation, pressed Caspian to be open, saying the company needed guarantees of stability. Caspian gritted his teeth, trying to hide the knot of frustration in his chest. He looked over empty seats and saw Soren’s absence. With every well-mannered interrogation, he felt his family’s failures press down on him.
Eventually, the silver-haired figure spoke once more, suggesting that the board needed something more concrete to show he was committed to Celeste and to the business. His words landed like a hammer blow as if any break in their marriage or any demonstration of weakness might destroy him. As soon as Caspian closed the room behind him, he struggled to remain stoic as the weight of the board’s demands lodged itself in his mind. He felt both disbelief and dread, and he wondered how far they expected him to go in order to protect the legacy that nearly destroyed his father.
Nightfall draped Sterling Price’s lavish penthouse in a warm wake. Under the glittering skyline, Talia found him sitting in a leather armchair, sipping something expensive. A quiet fireplace crackled in the wings, embers glinting across Sterling’s calculating gaze. She walked in, adrenaline throbbing in her blood. Her father, whose impeccably groomed silver at the temples appeared just meant for the amber glow of the whiskey, raised his glass in her direction as she walked in.
“Enjoy the day’s drama?” he asked lightly. Talia forced a calm tone. “You leaked that email, did you?” He laughed a low growl that sent her gripping her phone tighter. “I just gave the public a morsel to chew on. If the Hayes empire can’t take a gentle breath of wind, that’s not really on me.”
Her pulse thundered. Those partial truths had chipped away at Caspian’s credibility and stoked rumours about Soren. “Why sabotage Soren?” she demanded. “For the sake of the family, you promised him loyalty.” He rapped the rim of his glass. “I did not promise anything permanent. Alliances shift. And if his downfall serves my ends, then so be it.” Talia bit her jaw, remembering how easily he manipulated alliances to his advantage. The crackle of the fire punctuated a sombre silence.
“Caspian’s not your mark, is he?” she pressed, voice taut. Sterling only smiled when asked, not confirming or denying. “Caspian is just a piece on the board. I’m looking to change the whole game.” Her gut twisted at the thought of Hayes Enterprises brought down, her father reaping the spoils. “Soren isn’t going to back down,” she said. Sterling shrugged. “Then let him fight. I like watching titans eat each other.”
Uncertainty gnawed at Talia. She had betrayed Soren out of conscience, but her father’s machinations seemed equally sinister. “You’re fucking with fire,” she muttered, hands balled into fists. Sterling put down his glass with an emphatic clunk. “I like to say I’m building a better world,” he said. “And if you want a place in it, think about where your loyalties lie.”
Rift crackled between them, father and daughter, in a silent stalemate. She loathed his air of self-satisfaction, but for now, she could not afford to cross him publicly. Resolve curled in her chest, burning her to discover whatever great deception he had planned next. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stalked away, the amused gaze of Sterling following her into the night. Every step away from that firelit penthouse intensified her desire to take down his thuggish empire. Thunder grumbled beyond the glow of the city, herald of the storm that Talia meant to unleash. She would not allow Sterling’s deviousness to darken her conscience.
Caspian stopped at a window in an empty corridor of the Hayes mansion, looking out over moonlit gardens. There were shadows under his eyes, weariness chiselling the angles of his face. He had made it three days with barely any proper sleep, and the stress was threatening to unravel him. The email that leaked in late 2020 came to haunt his credibility, spawning a new wave of board scepticism. Footsteps followed him, but he was too knackered to look back.
Celeste neared, her heart twinging at the sight of his unsteady stance. “You ought to sleep,” she said softly. He forced a hollow laugh. “I can’t,” he said, his voice hoarse with fatigue. “Every time I close my eyes, I see everything collapsing — my father’s betrayal of me, the demands from the board, this entire empire crumbling before my eyes on my watch.” She moved closer and steadied his arm. She felt the tremor of his muscles even through his tailored shirt.
He rubbed his temples, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Go,” he urged, jaw locked with thinly veiled rage. “I don’t need your pity.” But his tone gave him away, trembling at the edges. Celeste was unwilling to retreat, remembering all the near-catastrophes he had avoided so many times. She had seen those signs before: the edge of another breakdown, the nightmares of years past, the merciless onslaught of those demons.
His knees buckled suddenly, voice scraping with anguish as he grabbed the windowsill for balance. Startled, Celeste slipped under his arm, pushing him toward a nearby bench. He was breathing in ragged bursts, chest heaving like he couldn’t get enough air. In the dim, wall-sconce glow, she saw tears filling his eyes, a sight that shook her as much as any threat to a boardroom. She whispered soft reassurances, placing a cool hand on his forehead. His face twisted in raw confession as he closed his eyes. “I love you still,” he gasped, the words shaking out into the silence. “After all of that, I still can’t stop.”
The admission made her heart pound with the centuries of sorrow that bridged the space that divided them. She recalled how his laughter had once brightened her darkest days, how she had held on to memories of kinder days. Now, that warmth battled the scars of betrayal, rendering her speechless. He pressed against her, tears trailing silent tracks down his cheeks, vulnerability written in every shiver. For a moment, she held him, unsure whether comfort verged on the inappropriate. Still, she couldn’t leave him so broken.
His breathing steadied in degrees, but the admission hung like a living thing, throbbing in the dim corridor. She started to speak, but her throat was constricted. The words were swallowed by the force of his naked frankness. The moonlight crept into the half-light of their thin silhouettes on the ground outside. A single tear fell from Celeste’s lashes, warring hope and dread. He rested his forehead on her shoulder , and her fingers brushed against his hair. She knew that to respond to his confession would mean coming to terms with her own buried feelings. And in that stillness, it seemed much simpler to say nothing, allowing the silence to soothe and rock their grief.