Chapter 160

Chapter 160

When we reached the lobby, Zia waa waiting scrolling through her phone. She looked up her eyes moving between us with that knowing expression she carried when she realized something shifted. “Are you both ready?” she asked.
Alexander nodded

As we walked outside together, city lights flickering on across the skyline, Zia looped her arm through mine while Alexander walked slightly ahead of us.
“He’s ready,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” I replied.

“You’re proud,” she added.
“More than I can explain.”
She rested her head briefly against my shoulder.

“I always knew he’d grow into someone extraordinary,” she murmured.
I watched Alexander laugh at something on his phone, shoulders relaxed, confidence steady, future practically humming around him.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “He already has.”

And for the first time since becoming a father, I realized I wasn’t leading him anymore. I was walking beside him while he carved his own path forward.

Zia

I swear, there are moments motherhood sneaks up and smacks me right in the chest when I’m least ready for it. Today was one of those days.
Quantum’s main floor buzzed like usual, phones ringing, keyboards clacking, assistants walking fast enough to count as cardio, and the quiet hum of controlled chaos I built from scratch years ago. My company. My baby. My pride. And now… apparently… another baby was walking through it like she owned the place.
Lila stood near the presentation screens, tablet tucked against her chest, while explaining campaign analytics to two senior marketing strategists who’d both been here longer than she’d legally been allowed to drink.
And they were listening. Like… actually listening.

I leaned against the glass wall of the office, coffee in hand, with Angie beside me pretending to review contracts while fully spying on her daughter.
“She just corrected Darren’s projection model,” Angie whispered beside me, peeking through the blinds like we were hiding from our own kid.
“She didn’t correct him,” I murmured. “She rewrote it without embarrassing him.”
Angie snorted softly.

“God… she really is my kid,” she said.
I smiled faintly.

Lila tapped the screen, explaining audience conversion rates, her voice calm but confident, her posture straight like she belonged there. Her long dark hair fell in soft waves down her back, and she wore one of those simple but classy work dresses that somehow screamed powerful without trying.
And yeah… heads were turning. Not in a gross way. Not unprofessional. But in that subtle, respectful "who is she?" kind of way. Angie saw it too. I felt her shoulders stiffen slightly beside me.

“She’s nineteen,” Angie muttered, half amazed, half panicked. “Nineteen, Zia.”
“I know,” I said softly.
“She still used to cry because she thought broccoli looked like tiny trees judging her,” Angie added.
I choked on my coffee.

“She did say they stared at her,” I reminded her.
Angie sighed, folding her arms, eyes glued to her daughter across the floor.
“I blinked,” she whispered. “I swear I blinked and suddenly she’s… that,” she said.

I watched Lila nod politely while taking notes as one of the strategists spoke. She asked questions. Smart ones. Curious ones. She wasn’t showing off. She was learning. Absorbing.
“She’s brilliant,” I said quietly.
“I know,” Angie replied, voice thick with pride.

We stayed quiet for a few seconds, just watching her work. Then Angie leaned back against my desk and let out a long breath.
“She’s going to get her heart broken,” she said suddenly.
I blinked, turning toward her.

“That escalated fast,” I said.
“I’m serious,” she said, rubbing her temples. “She’s beautiful. She’s smart. She’s confident but still soft inside. Boys… or girls… or whoever she ends up liking… they’re going to come at her fast,” she said, and I smiled slightly.

“You sound like Lucas when she got her first phone,” I teased.
“He grounded her for googling celebrity crushes,” Angie muttered.
I laughed quietly, but her expression didn’t change.
“She’s growing up,” Angie said again, softer this time. “And I’m not ready.”

That one hit deeper. I leaned against my desk, crossing my arms as I watched Lila again. She laughed at something Darren said, then went right back to explaining numbers like she’d been doing it for years.
“Remember when Alexander started college?” I asked.

Angie groaned immediately.
“Don’t remind me. I thought Xander was going to install tracking chips in his shoes.”
“He almost did,” I said.

She huffed out a laugh.
“You handled it better than I would’ve,” she admitted.
“No,” I said honestly. “I just hid my panic better.”

Angie studied me for a second.
“You’re not scared with Lila working here?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m terrified,” I said casually.
She blinked.
“Really?”

“Angie… she’s smart. Driven. Gorgeous. And she grew up surrounded by power, stability, and loyalty. That makes her strong… but it also makes her trusting in ways the world doesn’t always deserve.”
Angie swallowed slowly.
“Exactly,” she whispered.

Across the floor, Lila finished her discussion and started walking toward the office where we were currently hiding out, scrolling through her tablet while making notes. People greeted her as she passed. She greeted them back by name.
She memorized everyone’s names within two weeks of starting here.
Show-off.

“She’s going to run Quantum one day,” Angie said quietly.
I tilted my head slightly.

“She has, Angie. This is our legacy. Quantum is as much yours as it is mine. This empire came out of your house, that damn basement that your dad made my home. Alexander had Thorne Group, and Lila has Quantum. I said,
“Are you scared of handing over? I mean, she’s my kid, and I’m scared.” Angie said, which made me smile.

“Angie, she’s been sneaking into my office since she was twelve, sitting in my chair like she owned it. Half her business mindset came from watching you. The other half came from arguing with Alexander over business case studies like they were UFC matches.” I said, 
She smiled at that. “They are amazing,” she said.

“They’re dangerous together,” I admitted.
“They always have been,” Angie said fondly.
Lila knocked lightly on my office door before stepping inside, professional mode fully activated.

“You wanted the revised client engagement draft?” she asked, holding out her tablet. I gestured for her to sit across from me.
She did, posture straight, legs crossed neatly, completely composed.

I skimmed through the document. Clean. Structured. Creative but still data-driven. She balanced emotional marketing tone with hard conversion metrics, something half my senior staff still struggled with.
“This is really good,” I said honestly.
Her eyes lit slightly, but she kept it contained.
“Thank you,” she said.

Angie leaned against the bookshelf behind her, arms crossed, trying to look casual but very obviously scanning her daughter like she was searching for hidden injuries or bad decisions. Lila noticed.

“Mom… I’m working. Stop staring like I’m about to set the building on fire,” she said.
Angie gasped dramatically.
“I do not stare.”

“You absolutely stare,” Lila said.
I hid a smile behind my coffee.
“I stare with love,” Angie defended.

“You stare like a hawk watching a suspicious squirrel,” Lila corrected.
I lost it and laughed and Angie groaned.