Meeting Day.
8:30 AM.
Helen POV
In less than two hours, a seventeen-year-old would walk into Sterling Global’s boardroom with enough voting power to decide the next CEO.
One signature could shift billions of dollars and thousands of employees.
I had argued high-stakes cases before federal judges and faced down predatory corporate raiders without blinking.
Somehow, today felt entirely more intimidating.
The weight of the Sterling empire was a physical gravity pulling at the quiet walls of my home.
I adjusted the lapels of my charcoal blazer in the hallway mirror, forcing my expression into a mask of absolute legal certainty.
Everything had to go perfectly.
If the board found a single crack in our defense, they would use the three-billion-dollar audit to bury Chris in litigation until he was old enough to retire.
The click of a door handle cut through the silence.
I turned as the main character of today’s corporate circus stepped down the wooden staircase.
I looked for it—the standard tell.
A slight tremor in the fingers, a nervous adjustment of the tie, a micro-expression of dread.
I found absolutely nothing.
Chris carried himself with a calm confidence so absolute it bordered on unnatural.
It was the look of a man who didn’t just know the rules of the game, but had already decided the final score.
“Good morning, Chris,” I said, picking up my leather briefcase.
A soft, measured smile touched his lips.
“Same to you, Helen.”
“Do you want to eat breakfast? I can whip something up quickly.”
“No,” Chris replied smoothly, slipping his hands into his coat pockets.
“I’m not hungry.”
I studied his posture for a fraction of a second.
I guess he’s just exceptionally good at hiding it, I thought.
No teenager faced a hostile boardroom coup on an empty stomach unless their nerves were actively tying their throat into knots.
I held open the front door, letting the crisp autumn wind cut into the hallway.
“So. Excited for your first board meeting?”
Chris stepped past me onto the gravel driveway.
“It should be interesting.”
“That’s one word for it,” I muttered, following him out.
Chris paused by the edge of the lawn, his eyes scanning the empty gravel tracks.
“Where is Gwen?”
“She’s working on an advanced physics project. Left the house at 7:30 sharp to secure lab time.”
“Oh.” Chris tilted his head, a faint, familiar glint appearing in his dark eyes.
“Why? Did you need something from her before we left?”
“No,” Chris murmured, a small, mischievous smirk flashing across his face.
“Just… missing my interrogator.”
I couldn’t help but sigh.
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I checked my watch.
The digital numbers read 8:35 AM.
“Leave it. We’re going to be late if we keep standing here. Let’s just go.”
Chris stopped, looking back at me.
“You aren’t eating either?”
“No. Let’s complete this meeting first. Once the paperwork is signed and the board is locked down, we can pick up your interrogator from campus and find a proper restaurant.”
Chris offered a respectful nod.
“Okay.”
We reached the end of the driveway, and my breath caught slightly in my throat.
The black Rolls-Royce was already idling near the iron gates.
Standing beside the driver’s side door, perfectly motionless in the grey morning light, was Mr. Diablo.
“Let’s go in my car,” Chris said casually.
Every single instinct I had developed over two decades of reading dangerous people screamed that the smiling man in the white gloves was not normal.
He was polite.
Impeccably dressed.
Impeccable posture.
Yet standing within a few feet of him felt strangely similar to standing too close to the edge of a cliff.
The air around him felt heavy, cold, and entirely predatory.
Who gives their child the name Diablo?
And where had he actually come from?
He wasn’t on any of the historical payroll logs for the old Sterling servants.
He had simply materialized out of the shadows the day after Mark and Josephine died.
He possessed valid government IDs, passports, and tax registries, but looking into his golden irises felt like staring at something that fundamentally wasn’t from this world.
The last time I had directly pressed Chris about his driver’s background, the boy had simply smiled and started shamelessly complimenting my eyes until the conversation derailed into total domestic chaos.
I still didn’t know what his play was.
If he didn’t want to answer, he could just say no.
Why resort to teasing his legal guardian?
As we approached the vehicle, Diablo stepped forward with a fluid velocity that didn’t make a single sound against the gravel.
He opened the rear door for us, his face perfectly serene.
“It has been taken care of, Lord Chris,” Diablo said in his calm, smooth baritone.
It was dark.
It carried the exact same heavy, suffocating energy I had felt years ago when I accidentally overheard a private, late-night conversation between Josephine and Mark Sterling in the upstate study.
They had been discussing “taking care of” a non-compliant state politician who was blocking a mining permit.
Mark hadn’t meant a legal settlement, and Veronica hadn’t meant a political compromise.
This morning carried that exact same ruthless, off-the-books energy.
My instinct screamed at me as I slid into the leather seat.
I should have had this conversation long before today.
Chris had spent sixteen years preparing to inherit an empire.
He would have to make impossible decisions.
That couldn’t be avoided.
But the guilt, the blame, the fallout… Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
that was mine to shoulder, not his.
That’s what I owed her.
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing out the noise of the wind.
The interior smelled of expensive leather and polished wood.
I leaned back against the leather seat, studying his unreadable profile.
“Chris, if you need anything, you can tell me. I’ll arrange it.”
Chris turned his head toward me, a familiar smile already forming on his lips.
“Anything?”
There was that grin again.
“Not that,” I replied evenly.
“But if something has to be handled off the books… evidence needs to disappear… or someone becomes a problem…” I met his eyes.
“I owe your mother more than I could ever repay. If protecting what’s hers means crossing a line, then I’ll cross it.”
Chris blinked once, and the faint smile on his face slowly faded.
For the first time since we’d met, he looked at me without a hint of amusement.
“…Are you serious?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Because I’m a woman?”
He gave a small shake of his head.
“No.” His voice was calm now.
“Because of who your husband was.”
My fingers tightened around the handle of my briefcase.
George.
Of course he knew.
“So you did a background check on me.”
Chris shook his head.
“No. I’ve seen the photos around your house. The rest was just a web search. Captain George Stacy wasn’t exactly an unknown officer.”
Silence settled over the cabin.
I turned toward the rain-covered skyline as Manhattan slowly drew closer.
“Let’s just say…” My voice was quieter than before.
“The day I buried him, I buried more than my husband. I buried the woman he believed in.”
………………
Author’s Note
I went back and edited this chapter to improve the formatting and make the writing flow more naturally.
I’m have moved away from the one-line style and make the chapters feel more like an actual novel.
I hope the revised version reads better.
As always, thanks for reading, and I’ll see you in the next chapter!
date 12|08|2026
Author’s Note
First of all, thank you all for sticking with this story, I really appreciate your patience and support.
Starting from the next chapter, you’ll notice a change in my writing style.
I’ve been working on improving the pacing, character POVs, and overall flow, so I hope you’ll enjoy the new direction.
As always, I’d love to hear what you think once you’ve read it.