LOVE! WHY NOW!

Ashes Of Empire

The morning of the funeral felt heavy and gray over Manhattan. Dark clouds hung low in the sky, threatening rain at any moment. St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Fifth Avenue stood tall and majestic, its beautiful stone spires reaching high like fingers pointing toward heaven. Inside the huge cathedral, the air was cool and carried the rich smell of old polished wood, fresh white lilies and roses arranged everywhere, and the soft scent of burning candles. Gentle organ music played low and sad, filling the large stone space and echoing off the high ceilings. Hundreds of people filled the long wooden pews, important business leaders in dark suits, old family friends, workers from BuchForge Dynamics, and some curious faces from the New York elite.

Bethany Buch sat in the front row, dressed in a simple but elegant black dress that reached her knees. The fabric felt heavy against her skin. Her long chestnut hair was pulled back neatly into a bun. Her hazel eyes looked tired and red from crying and lack of sleep. She held a white tissue tightly in her hands, twisting it without realizing. Next to her, her mother Elena sat straight and proper in a designer black suit, wearing large dark sunglasses that hid her eyes from everyone. On the other side, her younger brother Theo shifted uncomfortably in his borrowed black jacket. He kept pulling out his phone under the pew, checking messages even during the service.

The priest spoke kind but honest words about Richard Buch. He called him a visionary, a fighter, and a man who built a great empire from nothing. Bethany’s mind kept drifting away from the words. She remembered smaller, happier moments with her father, the time he lifted her onto his shoulders at the Hamptons beach when she was little, the cold waves crashing loudly on the sand, or the private jet trip to London where they looked down at the city lights sparkling like a sea of stars. Those memories now felt sharp and painful, like pieces of broken glass inside her chest.

Her older sister Cassandra appeared on a large screen at the front of the cathedral. She was calling live from her small art studio in Paris. The video showed Cassandra with messy blonde hair, paint on her clothes, and a sad face. “Dad was a complicated man,” Cassandra said, her voice cracking. “He loved us in his own way. I cannot come back to New York right now. The business world is not for me. I am so sorry, Beth. You have always been the stronger one.”

The words landed heavily on Bethany. Soft whispers moved through the crowd. Everyone knew Cassandra had run away from the family company years ago. Now the full weight of BuchForge Dynamics fell completely on Bethany’s young shoulders. She felt it pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

After the service, everyone moved outside. Light rain started to fall on the wide stone steps. Black umbrellas opened like dark flowers. The smell of wet pavement mixed with car exhaust. Bethany stood under a large umbrella, shaking hands with people offering condolences. Some looked at her with pity. Others had sharp, hungry looks in their eyes.

The private burial was in a quiet cemetery outside the city. Tall old trees surrounded the area. Rain fell steadily, tapping on umbrellas and the wooden coffin. Bethany dropped a single white rose onto the coffin. It landed with a soft sound. Theo stood close. “We will figure this out, sis,” he whispered, but his voice shook.

Back at the Tribeca penthouse that afternoon, the big living room felt too large and empty. Rain tapped gently against the huge windows. The Hudson River looked dark and choppy below. Bethany changed into comfortable clothes and made hot coffee. The rich smell filled the kitchen.

Elena sat on the sofa. “Your father left many messes,” she said quietly. “But we must keep appearances. The family name is important.”

Theo was on his laptop. “I looked at some old emails. There are big red flags about money. Hidden loans. Something about IllusionForge being used for private deals that were not legal.”

Bethany walked to the window and looked out at the rainy city. Yellow taxi lights moved through the wet streets. The view was beautiful, but it now felt like a cage. Her dream life of travel and writing was slipping away fast.

Later that evening, they drove to the big family house in the Hamptons. The drive took almost two hours on the wet highway. When they arrived, the large beach house glowed with warm lights. Waves crashed loudly on the private beach. The salty sea air felt fresh. Inside, a few close family members talked in low voices. Food was laid out, but no one ate much.

Bethany stepped out onto the wide wooden deck. The ocean was dark. Wind blew her hair around her face. She remembered summer nights here as a child — running on the sand with her father, building sandcastles, laughing until her stomach hurt. Those memories made her chest ache with regret. Why hadn’t she asked more questions about the company?

Her phone buzzed. The board wanted an emergency meeting first thing tomorrow morning. There would be no real time to grieve.

That night, back in the Tribeca penthouse, sleep still would not come easily. Bethany sat in her father’s small home office corner. The rain had stopped. City lights sparkled outside the windows like diamonds. She opened the IllusionForge system and started a short family memory simulation.

The chair felt warm as the system started. Suddenly she was a little girl again in the Hamptons house. Her father was alive, strong, and smiling. He picked her up and spun her around. The sun was bright on the beach. The waves sounded perfect. Her mother laughed in the background. The hug felt so real it brought tears to her eyes.

But then small cracks appeared. Dark shadows moved behind the happy scenes. Whispers said things like “debts” and “secrets.” She pulled out fast, breathing hard. The clock showed it was past midnight.

The next morning, the BuchForge Tower felt different. Sunlight poured through the giant windows of the 47th floor boardroom. The long shiny table reflected the light. Outside, Wall Street was full of life, people in suits rushing to work, yellow taxis honking, and the distant Brooklyn Bridge standing strong.

Bethany walked in wearing her black power suit. Sofia Morales was already there with coffee and notebooks. “Everything is ready, boss,” she whispered.

Mr. Harlan Graves, the old accountant, sat near the end, looking nervous. Jake Thompson, the head of security, stood by the door.

Bethany stood at the head of the table. “Good morning, everyone. My father’s death does not stop our work. We keep moving forward.”

The meeting became tense. People asked hard questions about the debts. Voices grew louder. Damien Voss arrived a little late. His blue eyes met hers across the table. That same spark was there.

After the meeting, Damien stayed behind. In the quiet hallway with the city view, he stepped close. “You handled that well. But you look like you need real help. Come to my office later. I can show you more about the true situation.”

Bethany felt her heart beat faster. She knew this was dangerous, but the pull was real. “Okay. Later today.”

As Damien left, Sofia came back with messages. “Theo is waiting downstairs. He found more old emails. Cassandra called from Paris again.”

Bethany stood by the window for a moment. The sun felt warm on her face. Boats moved slowly on the river far below. People walked on the streets like nothing had changed. But everything had changed for her.

That evening, as she got ready for dinner with Damien, Bethany looked at herself in the mirror. “Why now?” she whispered. The words felt heavier every time.

The weight of the empire was now fully on her head. Family feuds were starting to wake up. And a new, dangerous fire was beginning to burn inside her.