Chapter 74 RETURNING HOME
Chapter 74 RETURNING HOME
“And after one year?”
His father leaned forward. “After one year, you will have the full weight of the Banks empire at your command. And then—then—you decide how wars are finished.
Greg searched his father’s face.
For manipulation.
For cruelty.
For certainty.
What he found instead was something rare: Worry.
“You’re scared,” Greg said softly.
His father didn’t deny it. “I’ve buried too many good men who thought love made them invincible.”
Greg exhaled. “You taught me to never live half a life.”
“And I taught you,” his father said, “that timing is everything.”
They stood there, father and son, power and conscience, legacy and rebellion.
“One year,” Greg repeated
“One year,”
"What happens if I refuse?" He asked.
His fathers’ voice dropped. “You can't."
That was the real ultimatum.
Greg nodded slowly. “You always did know how to corner a man politely.”
A ghost of a smile. “I learned from the best.”
Greg picked up his coat.
“I’ll play your fool,” he said quietly. “For one year.”
His father released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Good.”
“But understand this,” Greg added, eyes sharp. “I am not coming back because you summoned me. I’m coming back because I’m buying her.
His father met his gaze, something like pride flickering there.
“That,” he said, “is exactly why the empire needs you.”
Greg turned toward the door.
"You are to be back home next week, the official annoucement is on the news as we speak," his father added
“Alright. Its just for one year,” he repeated. “And then I stop pretending.”
As he stepped outside, the oaks whispered overhead.
And for the first time in a long while, Greg Banks wondered which would fall first—The empire, or the lie he was about to
The damage didn’t trend.
It didn’t scream across headlines or flash red banners on financial news networks.
It happened quietly—inside rooms, behind closed doors, in the spaces where consequences learned how to wait.
Sonia discovered this at 4:17 a.m., barefoot on cold marble, staring at a thin white stick she hadn’t meant to take seriously.
Two lines, unmistakable.
Her reflection in the bathroom mirror looked unfamiliar—paler, eyes too sharp, lips pressed tight as if holding something fragile together by force of will.
“No,” she whispered, the word wasn’t denial.
It was timing, she lowered herself onto the edge of the tub, elbows on her knees, the test trembling slightly in her fingers
Pregnant.
The irony almost made her laugh. Ten years of survival, of discipline, of turning pain into precision
And now this.
She pressed her palm flat against her stomach again—harder this time—as if she could command her body to wait, to behave, to understand the war she was in the middle of.
“Not now,” she murmured. “I don’t have room for this.”
The silence answered back.
By morning, the world continued as if nothing inside her had shattered.
Lena noticed first.
“You didn’t sleep,” she said quietly, handing Sonia a mug of coffee she didn’t touch.
“I slept,” Sonia replied. “Just not… well.”
Marcus paced the living room, phone glued to his ear. “Yes. I see it. No—don’t freeze it yet. Watch where it moves.”
Lara entered mid-call, eyes sharp. “Greg’s leak just landed.”
That got Sonia’s attention.
“What kind of landed?” she asked.
“The kind that looks accidental but isn’t,” Lara said. “Richard Mendez’s name surfaced in three offshore transfers. No commentary. No accusations. Just… existence.”
Sonia exhaled slowly. “That’s Greg."
“And Richard noticed,” Marcus added, hanging up.
The trap didn’t snap shut.
It waited.
Sonia learned that lesson the morning her name vanished.
Not from headlines.
Not from social media.
From systems.
She stood in Veritas’ situation room, coffee untouched again, watching Lena scroll through dashboards that no longer made sense.
“This is… subtle,” Lena said, frowning. “Our access isn’t revoked. It’s… delayed.”
“Delayed how?” Marcus asked.
“Milliseconds,” Lena replied. “But across enough systems to slow response time. Procurement approvals lag. Regulatory pings arrive late. By the time we respond, we look incompetent.”
Sonia nodded slowly. “He’s introducing friction.”
Marcus swore under his breath. “That’s Richard.”
“He’s not attacking us,” Lara added. “He’s letting the world decide we’re unreliable.”
Sonia’s lips curved slightly. “He’s betting on patience.”
“And on you cracking,” Lena said gently.
Sonia didn’t respond.
Her phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN: Ten clinic in Brighton just lost their funding.
Sonia’s breath hitched.
Another message followed.
UNKNOWN: Collateral is unavoidable.
Her vision sharpened—not blurred.
Anger grounded her where fear had tried to pull her apart.
“Marcus,” she said calmly. “Pull the charity ledgers tied to Mendez shell companies. All of them.”
“That’s escalation,” he warned.
“So is starving hospitals,” she replied.
Sonia felt the pressure that night, sitting alone in her apartment, lights off, city humming outside.
Her body felt wrong, heavy, sensitive and unfamiliar.
She pressed her forehead to the cool glass.
“You’re not real,” she whispered—to the fear, to the life growing inside her, to the doubt gnawing at her resolve.
A knock sounded at the door. She stiffened.
Another knock—gentler.
“Sonia,” Greg’s voice. “It’s me.”
She hesitated, then opened the door.
He took one look at her and swore softly. “You’re not okay.”
“I’m fine,” she said automatically.
Greg stepped inside anyway. “You’re lying.”
She didn’t argue.
“They’re moving against you,” he said. “Not loudly. Strategically.”
“I know.”
“They want you to overreact.”
“I won’t.”
Greg studied her. “They also want you isolated.”
She finally looked at him. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I refuse to let you disappear inside yourself,” he said simply.
Her throat tightened.
“Greg,” she said carefully, “if you stay close to me, you’ll get burned.”
He smiled sadly. “I already chose that fire.”
Silence settled between them.
“Richard contacted my father,” Greg continued. “Offered a truce.”
Sonia’s jaw clenched. “At what cost?”
“Me stepping away from you.”
Her laugh was sharp. “Of course.”
“I didn’t accept,” Greg said. “But the offer itself is the trap.”
Sonia nodded. “He’s testing loyalty.”
“Are you really fine?” Greg asked softly.
Sonia looked away.
"Yes," she whispered quietly, a lie.
"Sonia, I have to leave for a while, I am going back home, I came to inform you..." Greg said softly.
Looking up, Sonia's heart began to pound, she was completely stupefied.
"Okay...., when will ypu be back?" She asked softly.
"One year from now...." he replied.
His response hung between them, a heavy weight in the uncomfortable silence that followed.