Chapter 159

Chapter 159

The meeting ended twenty minutes later, executives filing out while throwing subtle glances toward Alexander. Not skeptical. Evaluating. Respectful. Curious.
He stayed seated, gathering his papers neatly into a folder.
Zia walked over first, resting her hand on his shoulder briefly.

“You skipped breakfast again,” she said.
He looked up, guilty.

“I grabbed coffee,” he said with a smile.
“That isn’t food.”

“I had a protein bar,” he tried.
She raised one eyebrow.
“…Half of one,” he admitted.

She sighed, but there was a small smile hiding behind it.
“I left lunch in your office fridge,” she said. “Eat it.”
“Yes, Mom,” he said automatically.

She leaned down, kissed his temple, then gave me a look that translated to “He’s yours now” before leaving the room. Alexander watched her go, shaking his head slightly.

“She still treats me like I’m twelve,” he muttered.
“She always will,” I said.
He smirked faintly, then turned serious again, opening another report.
I studied him quietly for a moment.

Same dark hair as mine, slightly longer on top but styled cleaner. The same sharp jawline and his eyes came from Zia. Same controlled expression that gave away nothing unless you knew where to look, and I knew exactly where to look.
“You caught the freight oversight faster than half the board,” I said.

He shrugged. “I’ve been reviewing our logistics structure since last semester.”
Of course he had. I stood, walking toward the window overlooking the city skyline.
“Come here,” I said.

He joined me, standing beside me, hands slipping into his pockets.
“You know what this building represents?” I asked.
“Your empire,” he answered casually.

I snorted softly.
“Wrong,” I said.
He glanced at me.

“This building represents every mistake I made when Alaric handed over Thorne Group to me,” I continued. “Every contract I signed too fast. Every partner I trusted too easily. Every night I slept three hours trying to fix damage I caused by thinking I knew everything.”
He stayed quiet, listening.

“That expansion deal you flagged?” I said, nodding toward the conference table. “I would’ve approved it at nineteen without hesitation.”
“Why?” he asked.

“Because I would’ve wanted the growth more than the stability, also to prove to Alaric he made the right choice in handing me Thorne Group.”
He absorbed that, eyes shifting toward the skyline.

“I want both, stability and growth,” he said finally.
I smiled slightly; he didn't care about impressing me.
“Good answer.”

The internship started officially two months ago, but today felt like the real beginning. Today he stopped shadowing. Today he started participating.
His schedule matched mine now. Strategy meetings. Investor calls. Internal audits. Even crisis reviews when smaller subsidiaries hit operational snags.
Most interns lasted three days in that rotation before begging to return to paperwork.
Alexander asked for more.

At noon, we walked through the trading floor together. Employees moved fast around us, voices overlapping with keyboard clicks and ringing phones. I watched him subtly track everything. Observing. Listening. Memorizing.

Employees noticed him too. Some stared openly. Some nodded respectfully. A few tested him with quick questions when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. He answered every single one without stumbling.
By mid-afternoon, we sat in my office reviewing client portfolio restructures.

He leaned over the tablet, scrolling through data.
“This client is hiding losses through layered shell subsidiaries,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Explain.”

He rotated the tablet toward me, pointing at transaction chains.
“They’re shifting deficits through offshore holding patterns to inflate domestic performance reports. It’s legal… barely. But it’s unstable.”
I studied the numbers. He was right again.

“You’ve been studying forensic accounting too?” I asked.
“Lila recommended it,” he said. “She’s taking advanced corporate compliance this semester. We’ve been comparing notes,” he said, and I chuckled.
“Of course you have.”

He paused, then glanced at me.

“You’re not surprised?” he asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “You’ve been preparing for this since you were ten. You just didn’t realize it yet.”
He leaned back in his chair slightly, absorbing that.

“Was I… expected to take over?” he asked after a moment.
I turned my chair toward him fully.
“Expected?” I repeated. “No.”
He frowned slightly.

“I was given Thorne Group; it was failing. I brought it back then, and your mother, along with Quantum, made Thorne Group what it is now. It’s here so you’d have the choice,” I said. “Not the obligation.”

He studied me carefully, like he was searching for any sign I was lying.
“I want it,” he said finally.
“I know,” I said quietly.

He nodded once, satisfied with that answer. Around four, Zia walked in carrying two coffee cups and a container of food.
“You both forget time exists when you’re working,” she said, setting them down.
Alexander immediately reached for the food container, opening it like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“This smells amazing,” he muttered.
“It’s because you’re starving,” she replied.

I watched them quietly. The way she brushed imaginary lint off his shoulder. The way he leaned slightly toward her presence without realizing it. The way her eyes softened every time he spoke. Then she glanced at me and froze for half a second.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“Doing what?” I asked.

“Staring at him like he’s a time machine,” she said.
Alexander looked between us, confused. “I’m not…”
“Yes, you are,” she cut in gently.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck.
“He reminds me of someone,” I admitted.
Alexander smirked slightly.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You?”
“Unfortunately,” I said dryly.
Zia laughed softly, leaning against my desk.

“It’s more than that,” she said. “His expressions. The way he tilts his head when he’s analyzing something. The way he presses his tongue against his cheek when he’s irritated but hiding it,” she said.

Alexander froze mid-bite.
“I do not…”
“You just did,” she said sweetly.

He closed the container slowly, sighing.
“This is bullying,” he muttered.
“Family tradition,” I replied.

He rolled his eyes, but a small smile slipped through.

The workday ended around seven. Most executives had already left, but Alexander stayed reviewing one last set of reports beside me.
“You don’t have to stay late,” I said.
“I want to,” he replied simply.
That answer hit harder than he probably realized.

I remembered being his age, chasing success like it was oxygen because I thought if I stopped running, everything would collapse.
Alexander worked differently. He wasn’t chasing survival. He was building a legacy. As we packed up, he paused at the office door.

“Dad?”
I looked up.
“Yeah?”

“Did it scare you?” he asked. “Running all of this at the beginning?”
I leaned back, thinking about that question longer than he expected.
“…Yeah,” I admitted. “It terrified me.”

He nodded slowly.
“Good,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow.

“It means I’m normal for being nervous sometimes,” he added.
I smiled faintly.
“You’d be dangerous if you weren’t,” I said.

We walked toward the elevator together. Glass walls reflected us side by side, and for a second, it felt like looking at two versions of the same story standing at different chapters.