Chapter 171

Chapter 171

“You realize,” I said lightly, “if you were actually trying to gold dig, you picked the wrong person.”
She stared at me, then she laughed, and just like that, the weight shifted. But underneath the humor, one thing stayed clear in my mind.
Anyone who came for her like that again? They’d regret it. I didn’t realize how loud silence could be until things finally settled.

The Thorne Group building hummed around me like usual—phones ringing, keyboards tapping, voices floating through the glass walls—but inside my office it felt steady. Calm. Controlled. The way I liked it. The way Dad always said business should feel.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the skyline through the massive window. The same one Dad had stood in front of for years. The same one I used to spin in when I was ten while he pretended to yell at me for touching things I “wasn’t qualified to touch yet.”

Now I ran half those departments. Life was strange like that.
Camilla’s termination had traveled through the company faster than wildfire. HR handled it cleanly. Professionally. Quietly. Exactly how we wanted it. There wasn’t gossip anymore. Just a general understanding across departments that lines existed, and crossing them came with consequences.

I didn’t feel guilty. I never would when it came to protecting family. A knock hit my door twice before it opened.
Lila leaned inside without waiting for permission, which made me roll my eyes automatically.

“Your assistant told me you’re hiding from paperwork,” she said casually, stepping in with her tablet tucked under her arm.
“I’m prioritizing,” I corrected.
She snorted. “You’re procrastinating.”

I watched her cross the office, confident stride, calm expression, and hair tied back in that clean, professional style she favored when she was working. Sometimes it hit me how much she’d grown up. Not just physically. Mentally. The way she carried herself now screamed leadership.
Mom always said Lila had quiet authority. I used to think that meant she was just bossy. Now I understood it. She dropped into the chair across from me like she owned the place, stretching her legs out slightly.

“How’s the expansion file going?” she asked.
“Signed off on it this morning. Dad wants me leading the next negotiations.”
Her eyebrows lifted, pride flashing across her face instantly. “That’s huge.”

I shrugged, but I couldn’t hide the small grin. “Guess he’s testing if I’ll sink or swim.”
“You won’t sink.”

The certainty in her voice hit different. It always had. Lila never hyped things. She just stated facts like they were already decided by the universe.
I tapped my pen against the desk. “Is Quantum’s takeover plan still moving forward?”
She nodded, posture straightening slightly. “Aunt Zia started transitioning control of the cybersecurity divisions to me last week. Mom’s helping me with internal structure adjustments.”
“Already?”
“Yeah,” she said, exhaling softly. “It’s… surreal.”

I studied her face. There was excitement there. Pride. But also weight.
“Are you ready for it?” I asked quietly.
She gave a small smile. “I think readiness is fake. You just step in and grow into it.” That sounded exactly like something Mom would say.
“Scary,” I muttered.

She smirked. “You literally run three divisions and negotiate contracts with corporations twice your size.”
“Still scary.”
She laughed, shaking her head.

For a moment, we just sat there. Comfortable. Quiet. The way we always had been growing up. The chaos of the last few weeks felt far away now. Like something already packed into a box and stored in the past.
“I’m glad you were there,” she said suddenly.

I frowned slightly. “When?”
“In the hallway. That day.”

My chest tightened slightly at the memory. The anger. The protectiveness. The sheer disbelief someone thought they could speak to her like that.
“You never had to doubt that,” I said simply.
“I know,” she replied, softer. “Still meant everything.”

I nodded once. Then I leaned forward, pushing a file toward her.
“Joint venture proposal revisions,” I said. “Your team’s notes helped fix three security flaws our IT missed.”

She opened the folder, scanning quickly, already slipping back into work mode.
“See?” she murmured. “This is why Quantum and Thorne work.”
“Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “It is.”

Lila

Working alongside Alexander was weirdly easy. Not because he gave me special treatment. If anything, he expected more from me than anyone else. He challenged every proposal I submitted, questioned every projection, and forced me to defend every strategy. It pushed me harder. Made me sharper. And honestly… I loved it.

The joint project between Thorne Group and Quantum had turned into one of the biggest collaborations both companies had done in years. Cybersecurity infrastructure integrated directly into corporate development systems. It was complex. Massive. Risky.
And exactly the kind of legacy work Aunt Zia thrived on.

I walked through the Thorne Group hallway later that afternoon, tablet in hand, reviewing updated security protocols while employees moved respectfully around me. Not intimidated. Not overly friendly either. Just professional. It felt earned. That mattered to me.

I paused near one of the glass meeting rooms, watching Alexander inside with Dad, Uncle Xander, and Grandpa Arthur. Four generations of business experience sitting around one table. The sight made my chest tighten slightly.

They looked like a dynasty. Alexander sat confidently beside Uncle Xander, mirroring his posture without realizing it. The way he spoke, gestured, and even the subtle tilt of his head when he listened—he looked so much like his father it was almost eerie. Except for his eyes.

I smiled faintly, stepping away before they noticed me staring like a proud weirdo. My phone buzzed.
Mom: Tonight, family dinner. Everyone’s home.
I smiled instantly.
LILA: Wouldn’t miss it.

Alexander

Family dinners were loud. Always had been. Always would be. The house—mansion, honestly—glowed with warm lights as cars filled the massive driveway. Different wings of the house meant privacy most days, but nights like this dragged everyone together whether they liked it or not.
I stepped into the main dining area, immediately getting smacked on the back of the head by Grandpa Julian.
“You took my seat,” he accused.
“You’re sixty,” I replied flatly. “Pick another chair.”

Grandma Serena laughed from across the table while Evelyn scolded us both without real heat behind it. Lyra and Uncle Lucas were arguing over wine selection while Mom and Aunt Angie carried dishes out from the kitchen like generals leading a feast.
Dad stood near the head of the table, arms crossed, watching everything with that calm, proud expression he tried to hide.
Lila slipped in beside me moments later, stealing a roll off my plate before I could protest.

“You’re an animal,” I muttered.
“You left it unguarded,” she replied calmly, already biting into it.
Dinner flowed the way it always did: overlapping conversations, teasing, updates about work, and subtle bragging rights between departments disguised as casual storytelling. Arthur eventually raised his glass, drawing attention.

“To legacy,” he said simply. “Not the kind built from money. The kind built from family standing together.”
Everyone clinked glasses.