Chapter.6
1102 Words
MIA'S POV
I sleep better than I have in years. Maybe in two lifetimes.
There's something wrong with that. My sister just cried in my apartment and I stood there, dry-eyed, and watched her go. I should feel guilty. I've been feeling guilty about Lily since before I knew how to spell her name.
Instead I wake up at six AM, make coffee the way I actually like it, with no sugar, no cream, and sit by my window watching the city start its morning.
My phone has forty-two notifications. I ignore all of them.
I arrive at Black Industries at seven twenty. The security guard at the front desk is different from yesterday, a younger man who checks my badge twice and looks uncertain.
"Miss Carter. Mr. Black said to tell you…."
"Good morning," I say, and walk past him to the elevator.
It's a small thing. But I didn't wait to be given permission.
The forty-second floor is already busy when I arrive. People moving fast, voices low, energy tight in a way that feels different from yesterday. I find Victoria at her desk, with her phone pressed to her ear, her expression carefully neutral.
She holds up one finger when she sees me. *Wait.*
I wait. She finishes her call, sets down the phone, and looks at me with something I can't quite name.
"There's been a development," she says. "Mr. Black is in a meeting that started at five this morning. He wants you to proceed with the legal team without him." She slides a folder across the desk. "Before you go in, your father called the main line at six forty-five. He knows you're here."
My coffee goes cold in my hand. "What did you tell him?"
"Nothing. He already knew." She pauses. "He has a contact in the building. Someone in facilities who recognized your name on the visitor log from Monday. Your father has spent the last forty-five minutes making calls."
I stand very still. "Who to?"
"His lawyer. Your mother. And Jason." Victoria meets my eyes. "Jason is on his way here."
Something tightens in my chest. In my first life, Jason was always the one they sent when they needed me to do something. He had this way of holding my hand when he talked, like he was comforting me while he delivered a verdict. *Mia, just think about the family. Mia, you're being irrational. Mia, if you love me you'll do this one thing.*
"How long do I have?"
"Twenty minutes. Maybe less, depending on traffic." Victoria glances at the elevator. "The legal team is ready when you are."
I go to the conference room. Three lawyers are waiting. They introduce themselves, and one of them slides a document in front of me.
"We're building a fraud case around the Richardson merger," he says. "Your testimony about the CFO's embezzlement—"
"I need to know something first." I look at the three of them. "If my father finds out I'm cooperating with this case, what happens to me legally? Can he retaliate?"
They exchange looks. The one who spoke first, the senior one, leans back.
"If you've signed any NDAs with Carter Enterprises…"
"I haven't. I was never made an official offer." The irony burns. Lily was given VP and I was still technically a "candidate" when I died. "So I'm clear?"
"In terms of legal exposure, yes. Reputationally…"
"I don't care about that." I pull the document closer. "Tell me what you need."
We work for forty minutes. I tell them everything I remember about the Richardson merger. Dates, numbers, names, conversations I overheard. The lawyers stop exchanging looks after the first ten minutes and start writing very fast.
I'm midway through explaining the CFO's offshore accounts when the conference room door opens.
Jason walks in.
He looks good. He always looks good—that's half the problem. Dark hair slightly disheveled like he dressed in a hurry, jaw tight, eyes going straight to me with that particular expression he reserves for when I've done something he needs to talk me out of.
"Mia." His voice is carefully gentle. "Can we talk?"
"I'm in a meeting."
"It'll just take a minute."
"She said she's in a meeting," the senior lawyer says flatly.
Jason looks at him like he's furniture, then back to me. He steps inside the room and closes the door and I think, *there it is*. He never asks. He assumes. He's always assumed.
"Your dad is worried. Your mom hasn't slept. Lily thinks she did something wrong and she's…."
"She did do something wrong." My own voice surprises me. Steady. "Several things. Over many years."
"Mia." He moves closer, and I see the exact moment he decides to switch tactics. He sits down in the empty chair beside me like we're having a private conversation and there aren't three lawyers watching. "I know you're going through something. I know you've been stressed and overwhelmed since your birthday. But this?" He gestures at the room, the files. "Working for Ethan Black? He's ruthless, Mia. He destroys people for sport. I don't want to see you get caught up in something you don't understand."
"I understand it fine."
"Do you?" He lowers his voice. "He doesn't care about you. He's using you to get to your father."
"I know."
Jason blinks. That was the wrong answer. He expected denial, or tears, or the familiar wobble in my chin that meant he'd almost won.
"You *know*?"
"Yes." I turn back to the lawyers. "Where were we?"
Jason stands up slowly. I can feel the moment he makes a decision—something shifts in the air.
"There's something you should know," he says. "About your father and Ethan Black."
I go still.
"Robert didn't just steal from his mother. He had her committed, Mia." Jason's voice is quiet now. "Psychiatric hold. When Ethan was eleven. It was the only way to break the NDA—he claimed she was mentally unstable, a liability. She spent eight months institutionalized." He pauses. "And Black has known your father was behind it since he was nineteen. He's had *years* to move on. He chose not to." He looks at me carefully. "That's not someone seeking justice. That's an obsession. And you're standing in the middle of it."
He leaves before I can speak.
The conference room is very quiet.
"Do you want to take a break?" one of the lawyers asks.
"No," I say. "Keep going."
But my hands have started shaking again, and this time it has nothing to do with my family.
- Writer
