Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen

Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
Lachlan

The reaction most women would have had to those rumors was to lash out. But because it had all been a lie, she took it in stride, spinning a new narrative to clarify the previous one. Hermione has always been a genius; as a surgeon, it’s no surprise she remained unruffled by the backlash Aiden was receiving. She handled the situation with immense tact, single-handedly pivoting her husband's reputation from scorn to acceptance.
I couldn't help but wonder: why hadn't Dad paired her with me if I was truly the golden son?
"So, you two aren't working together?" Mom asks, sounding almost relieved.
I can tell why. Given the failure of her plan, I would have been the prime suspect. She had tried to defame him at the exact moment I stood to benefit from his disqualification. While I have my own plan to reclaim the birthright Aiden stole, it is nothing as trivial as labeling him a cheater. My strategy will be far more effective than a mere rumor; it will be absolute. I’m simply waiting for the right moment to strike.
He may have escaped the heat of this scandal with the surgeon's help, but there is no way on earth he can escape what I have in store for him. He will regret ever stepping foot into this family, let alone stealing what belongs to me.
"Do you plan to just sit idly by and let him take everything?" she presses.
"I’m working on it, Mom. I'm just waiting for the right time."
"Be thorough," she warns. "Leave no leads that can be traced back to you."
I clear my throat. "Understood. I’ll also look into how to get you out of there."
"Your future is more important than my release. Focus on securing that first."
"Okay, Mom," I say.
I hear disgruntled murmurs in the background on her end.
She adds quickly, "I have to go. We’ll talk the next time I have the chance. Goodbye."
The call ends before I can respond. I set my phone down, a heavy exhale escaping me.
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Aiden

A loud pop erupts the moment I step into my office, and confetti rains down on my head to the roar of applause from my team. Neil leads the charge, cheering as I walk through the door. The entire group had gathered early to surprise me.
"Congratulations to the newest, youngest CEO in town!" Neil bellows over the clapping.
I smile at them, feeling a surge of genuine appreciation. The inauguration was yesterday, and the day had been a whirlwind of being introduced to the board and high-profile clients. It was exhausting, but it filled me with a sense of pride, especially considering where I started. My in-laws and my lovely wife had been right there in attendance.
Being celebrated by people who once would have written me off as worthless was exhilarating—and I have no one to thank for that more than Hermione.
"Thank you, everyone," I say, brushing a stray piece of confetti off my shoulder.
"A simple 'thank you' won't cut it, Boss. We’re celebrating this!" Andrew insists. He was part of the team I worked with to fix the fiscal mess Lachlan left behind.
"Alright, alright," I concede with a laugh. "Drinks are on me after work. Neil will text everyone the location."
They cheer good-naturedly, high-fiving each other as they head back to their stations.
Neil rubs his palms over his trousers and approaches me, his hands positioned for a humble handshake. "Good luck charm for the day, Sir."
I oblige him, my lips curving into an amused smile. The others jump in as well, each claiming a "good luck charm" for the day, just as Neil did. Finally, they file out of the room, leaving Neil behind to pick up the confetti he scattered into the air.
I head to my desk, taking a look around my new workspace. It is far more spacious and luxurious than my previous office. It’s an incredible promotion; I’ve scaled several rungs of the corporate ladder, moving from Vice President of a subsidiary to CEO of the entire conglomerate. It is an intriguing title, but as the saying goes, "uneasy lies the head that wears the crown."
I square my shoulders and sink into the plush executive chair with a sigh. It is remarkably comfortable, perfectly fitting for an office of this caliber. While I will still operate primarily out of MD Entertainment, I will travel to the headquarters for quarterly meetings and high-level analysis with the rest of the executive board.
"How do you like the new office, Sir?" Neil inquires, approaching the desk with a bunch of gathered confetti in his hand. His eyes sparkle with pride.
We’ve come a long way—from being the targets of Lachlan’s constant bullying to now holding authority over him. In fact, I am now several levels his superior.
"Now would be a good time to give Lachlan a taste of his own medicine," Neil says, as if reading my mind.
"I’m not going to abuse my power the way he did," I reply. The thought of rubbing my superiority in his face is enticing, especially after the years of endurance he forced upon me, but it’s beneath me.
"That’s what makes you stand out. You’re a better man than he could ever be," Neil states. "Call me if you need anything, Sir."
"It’s still Aiden to you, Neil," I remind him, raising a finger.
"I wouldn't dream of addressing you informally now that you're my boss ten times over."
"Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't have survived long enough to attain this position without your unwavering support."
Neil places a hand over his heart and bows his head politely. "You flatter me, Aiden."
"It’s the truth, Neil. I have you to thank for where I am today."
"You earned it yourself," Neil insists, reluctant to take any accolades.
I nod. "Perhaps."
"I’ll leave you to bask in the glory of your new office, then," Neil says, excusing himself.
After he leaves, I recline in my seat and take a deep breath. I brush my fingers over the sleek texture of the desk and take in the view. It is nothing short of exquisite.
The door opens, and I immediately straighten up as my father walks in. I rise to meet him halfway, gesturing for him to join me in the immaculately furnished private seating area.
"How are you finding the new office?" Dad asks, settling into the plush cushion with the help of his walking cane.
"It’s remarkable," I answer, sitting across from him. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
"You earned it. I’m relieved I can retire without worrying that the empire will crumble in my absence."
"I will do my best to uphold your legacy and expand it."
"I have no doubt MD Group will remain standing for generations. Your lineage with Hermione will be filled with brilliant children, and I trust they will be as upright as their parents."
We aren't discussing potential grandchildren again.
I manage a small, strained smile.
"Has your brother come to extend his well wishes? I don't believe I saw him yesterday," Dad says, shifting in his seat.
"Dad, please. You should go easy on Lachlan."
"Go easy?" Dad spits, his face contorting with rage. "I have been going easy on him, even as I watched him tamper with records for his own benefit. I waited for him to change, but he is set in his ways. He is no son of mine. You know exactly how much his actions cost me. If I had left him to his own whims, this company would be in the gutter right now."
I clamp my mouth shut. It seems Dad has completely written Lachlan off.
"I’m only saying you shouldn’t force him to offer me insincere congratulations."
"Insincere indeed," Dad mutters. "I will tighten security now more than ever, son. I can’t lose you to them as well," he warns, a wave of melancholy flashing in his eyes.
He is still haunted by my mother’s passing. I am well aware that he feels responsible for the events that led to her premature death. Had he not sought her out while still married to Beatrice, I might never have been born, but at least my mother would still be alive.
Beatrice acted out of pure jealousy. For her to have acted on such murderous intent proves she is a predator, and her son undoubtedly possesses that same trait. If Beatrice could murder my mother out of spite, I can bet that Lachlan would do far worse to me out of fury.
"I will take extra precautions," I assure him.
My phone vibrates, signaling an incoming call. I glance at the screen and see it’s Noah. I answer immediately, lifting the phone to my ear. "Yes?"
"Sir, Annabelle Wilson is dead," he reports.
My brows knit into a frown. The news hits me like a physical shock. "How? What happened?"
"She was murdered."
"Murdered?"
Dad’s attention snaps to me at my exclamation. I meet his gaze briefly before refocusing on the call.
"Yes. I tracked her to her location last night," Noah continues. "She was trying to flee, knowing she would be arrested after the stunt she pulled. It seems her accomplice wasn't willing to help her escape. She threatened to expose everyone involved if he didn't give her what she wanted, and he killed her during the argument."
"Tell me you caught him."
"He’s at the police station right now undergoing questioning. I couldn't reach you last night to make the report."
Right. The inauguration. "I understand."
"It’s likely they have someone backing them. This man isn't the 'big fish,'" Noah hints.
I glance at my father before asking in a low voice, "Is it Lachlan?"
"We have yet to ascertain that," he says.
"Confirm it and get back to me."
"I will do that, Sir." He ends the call.