Chapter 17 Mother's Legacy
[Nyx]
"Yeah, I did. What about it?" I challenged, refusing to be embarrassed.
"Change it back," he said simply.
I sat up straighter. "How did you even know?"
"I just did." I could practically see his smug expression. "You're surprisingly predictable, Nyx."
"You don't know everything about me," I retorted.
"Hmm. If you don't change it back by tomorrow, I'm adding ten minutes to your horse stance tomorrow."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me," I could hear the smile in his voice. "Get some rest, Nyx."
The way he said my name, soft and low, sent another unwelcome warmth spreading through my chest. I quickly ended the call before he could hear the slight catch in my breathing.
After hanging up, I stared at my phone, torn between irritation and something else I couldn't quite name. That night, I slept better than I had in years, my dreams filled with forests and running wolves rather than the usual nightmares.
---
The next morning, I dressed with deliberate care. Unlike the last time my father called a family gathering—when I'd deliberately shown up disheveled just to spite Isla—today I chose slim black pants and a charcoal sweater that hugged my frame. Professional, composed, but not trying too hard. I swept my hair into a tight ponytail, examining my reflection critically. The woman staring back at me looked stronger somehow, more present than she had in years. No more giving them the satisfaction of dismissing me as the family disaster. If another bombshell was coming, I'd face it with dignity—or at least the appearance of it.
He wouldn't summon you without reason, Sylva murmured in my mind.
With him, everything is calculated, I responded. Last time he announced my forced marriage to Lysander. Who knows what delightful surprise awaits me today.
The walk to the central mansion felt longer than usual. Unlike the west wing where I lived, the central building—where my father and Isla resided—was all polished marble and gleaming gold accents. Everything there was meticulously designed, painfully opulent, and utterly false.
I particularly despised the way Isla had decorated after my mother's death. Where Diana had favored clean lines and natural elements, Isla worshipped at the altar of excess. Designer labels, imported furniture, crystal chandeliers—her desperate grab for status hung from every surface like gaudy armor.
The guard at the main entrance nodded respectfully as I passed. At least someone remembered I was the Alpha's daughter, even if my father seemed to forget that fact regularly.
Taran led me to the small breakfast room rather than the formal dining hall, which surprised me. The intimate setting suggested a private conversation rather than a political display.
When I entered, the whole family was already seated around the table. My father at the head, naturally, with Isla at his right hand. Tristan sat beside her, looking annoyed and impatient. Lilith occupied a chair on my father's left, nervously fidgeting with her napkin. A thick folder lay before my father.
"Nyx," he acknowledged. "Sit."
No "hello," no "how are you." Just a command. Typical.
I took the empty chair beside Lilith, catching her brief sympathetic glance.
"Now that we're all here," my father began, "we can discuss the matters at hand."
"You've accepted your marriage to Lysander?" he asked abruptly, staring directly at me.
I blinked at the direct question. This wasn't really a question—it was a test.
"Yes," I answered carefully. "Do I have another option?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You could have fought harder."
"Would it have changed anything?" I countered.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "No."
Isla turned to me, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the polished table. "Now that the marriage is settled, Nyx, you need to ensure Lysander keeps his distance from Lilith after the wedding. She's still quite affected by this whole arrangement."
"Mother, please stop," Lilith interjected, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. "Lysander has never even approached me or shown any interest. You make it sound like there was something between us when there wasn't."
My father's jaw tightened. "Enough about Lysander. That's not why I called this meeting."
He pushed the folder toward me. "This is why I called you all here."
I hesitantly opened the folder, scanning the first page with confusion. It was legal documentation for Eclipse Pharmaceuticals—my mother's company. The company that had been placed in a trust after her death, managed by my father's appointees.
"I don't understand," I said, looking up at him.
"It's yours now," he stated simply. "All of it. Effective immediately."
Isla's face went slack with shock. "What? That's impossible!"
"It's done," my father replied coldly. "The papers are signed. The board has been notified."
"Father, this is outrageous!" Tristan protested, his face flushing with anger as he slammed down his coffee cup. "I've been overseeing Eclipse operations for the past year! The transition plans, the restructuring—all my work!"
My father regarded him coolly. "And what have those efforts yielded, Tristan? A twelve percent drop in market share. Three failed product launches. Nearly thirty million in losses from your ill-advised expansion into cosmetics."
Tristan's face reddened further. "Those were strategic investments—"
"They were disasters," my father cut him off. "The board's quarterly report makes that abundantly clear."
My fingers trembled as I turned the pages. Eclipse wasn't just any company—it was a pharmaceutical giant worth billions. My mother had built it from the ground up, revolutionizing werewolf medicine before expanding into human markets.
"After your honeymoon, you'll begin training at entry level," my father continued, addressing me. "You'll learn every aspect of the business from the bottom up. But ownership transfers to you today. Sign where indicated."
I found the signature page, my name already printed beneath the blank line. This wasn't just a gesture—this was real power.
"Karl, you can't be serious," Isla hissed. "If you give everything to her, what will be left for my children? For Tristan?"