306: With Honor
306: With Honor
Shawn’s Point of View
The office was a fortress of glass and steel, the Chicago skyline sprawling beyond my floor-to-ceiling windows, but it might as well have been a prison.
Papers littered my desk—financial reports, shareholder analyses, emails from the board—each one a lifeline to the company my father built, the legacy I was fighting to save.
But my eyes kept drifting, unfocused, the numbers blurring into memories of Ella’s smile, Lily’s laugh, the warmth of their presence that had once made the Hayes mansion a home.
Now, days after they’d left, the house was a crypt, every room echoing with their absence—the creak of Lily’s rocking chair, the faint scent of Ella’s lavender perfume on the pillows. I gripped my pen, the metal cold against my palm, willing myself to focus, to bury the ache in work, but it was like trying to hold water in my hands.
The past week had been a haze, each day heavier than the last. I’d thrown myself into the fight against Cliff and Garrett, my great-uncle and uncle scheming like vultures to steal the CEO title, to dismantle everything my father had stood for.
Board meetings, late-night strategy sessions, calls with allies—they filled my hours, numbed the pain, but never enough. Every quiet moment brought her back—Ella’s trembling voice saying, “It won’t work,” her tears as she walked away, Lily’s small arms clinging to me.
I rubbed my chest, the scar from my heart surgery a faint throb under my shirt, a reminder of battles I’d won. But this? Losing them? This was a wound no doctor could stitch.
The door to my office swung open, the soft click of heels pulling me from my thoughts. Celeste stood there, her casted arm a stark white against her tailored blazer, her eyes sharp but hesitant, a mix of determination and guilt I didn’t have the energy to parse. “Shawn,” she said, her voice soft but deliberate, closing the door behind her. “We need to talk. About Ella.”
Her name hit like a punch, my heart lurching, my hand tightening around the pen until it creaked. “Not now, Celeste,” I said, my voice rough, my eyes dropping to the papers, pretending to read. “I’ve got enough on my plate with Cliff and Garrett. I don’t need to rehash—”
“It’s not rehashing,” she interrupted, stepping closer, her voice firm, her casted arm resting on the edge of my desk. “I saw her at the hospital, days ago, when I broke my arm. I told her she needed to step away from you, Shawn.
To give you space to focus on beating Dad and Grandpa Cliff. And it’s working—you’re hitting them hard, and they’re losing ground with the shareholders. Your strategies, your moves, they’re sharper now. I know it hurts, but it was the right call.”
The air left my lungs, her words a blade twisting in my chest. I shoved back from the desk, the chair scraping harshly, my hands slamming onto the polished wood as I stood. “You did what?” My voice was low, dangerous, a storm brewing behind my eyes.
“You told Ella to leave me? You meddled in my life, my heart, and you think that’s okay because it’s working?” My fists clenched, my breath ragged, the betrayal cutting deeper than Cliff’s boardroom schemes or Garrett’s smug taunts. “You had no right, Celeste. None.”
Her eyes widened, a flicker of guilt crossing her face, but she held her ground, her voice steady. “I did it for you, Shawn,” she said, her casted hand gesturing, a plea in her tone. “You were drowning—Cliff and Garrett were using Ella and Lily against you, threatening them to break you.
I saw how much you love her, how it was tearing you apart. You needed to focus, to fight without them holding you back. And look at you now—you’re winning. The shareholders are siding with you, Cliff’s losing his grip, Garrett’s scrambling. I’m sorry it hurts, but I’m not sorry it’s working.”
I paced, my steps heavy, my cane tapping the floor, a rhythm that did nothing to calm the fury in my veins. “You don’t get it, do you?” I said, my voice breaking, raw with pain. “Ella wasn’t holding me back—she was my reason to fight. Her and Lily, they were my home. And you—you pushed her away, made her think she was the problem. Do you know what that cost me?”
My voice cracked, my hand rubbing my face, the memory of Ella’s tears, Lily’s sobs, flooding back. “I proposed to her, Celeste. I was ready to give her everything, and she walked away because of you.”
Celeste’s face softened, her eyes glistening, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know about the proposal,” she said, her casted arm falling to her side. “I thought… I thought I was helping you save the company, Shawn. I saw how Cliff and Garrett were circling, how they’d use anyone you love to take you down. I told her to step back because I care about you, because I want you to win.”
“Win?” I laughed, a bitter sound that echoed in the office, my hands gesturing wildly. “What’s the point of winning if I lose them? The company’s my father’s legacy, but Ella and Lily—they’re my life. You crossed a line, Celeste. You don’t get to decide who stays in my heart.”
I sank back into the chair, my energy draining, the fight leaving me as the weight of her words settled. Ella had left because she thought it would save me, because Celeste had planted that seed. The realization was a stone in my gut, heavy and unmovable.
Celeste stepped closer, her voice gentle but urgent. “I’m sorry, Shawn,” she said, her eyes searching mine. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you’re close—so close to beating them. Take down Cliff and Garrett, secure the company, make it safe. Then you can go after Ella, show her it’s over, that you’ve won. You can bring her and Lily back when there’s no threat hanging over them.”
I stared at her, my heart torn between rage and resignation, her words a faint spark in the darkness. Could I do it? Fight for the company, bury this pain, and then find a way back to Ella? The thought was a lifeline, fragile but real. I nodded slowly, my jaw tight, my voice low. “I’ll deal with Cliff and Garrett,” I said, my eyes hard, fixed on the skyline beyond. “But don’t ever interfere in my life again, Celeste. This isn’t your fight.”
She nodded, her lips pressing together, her eyes heavy with regret. “I won’t,” she said softly, turning to leave, her heels clicking as the door closed behind her.
I leaned back, the office silent, the papers on my desk a reminder of the war I was fighting. The mansion was a graveyard without Ella and Lily, but Celeste was right about one thing—I was winning.
Cliff and Garrett were faltering, and I’d keep pushing, keep fighting, until the company was mine again. And then, maybe, I’d find a way to bring Ella back, to rebuild what we’d lost. Until then, I’d bury the pain, let it fuel me, and fight like hell.