The city air was brisk, the kind that bit gently at your cheeks but smelled like freedom—or at least, a momentary escape. Max sat in his wheelchair, wrapped in his long black coat, hands resting over his lap as Emilia pushed him along the stone-paved sidewalk. The tall buildings shimmered under the overcast light, casting cool shadows across the sidewalks.
Neither of them spoke at first. The board meeting still echoed in Max’s ears like a bad song on repeat. Emilia didn’t ask him anything—not yet. She knew the look on his face. He wasn’t ready.
But when they reached a quieter part of the street, where the foot traffic thinned and the noise dulled, Max finally broke the silence.
“My father was a meticulous bastard,” he said, voice flat. “Didn’t trust me with the company while he was aliv
