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The next day, I stride through the estate, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. Every imperfection stands out like a glaring insult. A smudge on the ornate mirror in the hallway catches my eye.
"Unacceptable," I mutter, wiping it with my sleeve. My voice is louder than intended, echoing off the walls.
A few steps later, a vase is slightly out of place on its pedestal. I adjust it with more force than necessary, causing a few staff members to glance over nervously. My eyes narrow as I spot Jameson, the head butler, approaching with a cautious look.
"Jameson!" I bark, making him flinch. "What’s going on here? This estate should be immaculate."
Jameson swallows hard. "I assure you, sir, we’ve been maintaining?—"
"Clearly not," I cut him off. "A smudge on the mirror? A vase out of place? This is sloppy work."
A few more staff members gather at a distance, their eyes wide and anxious. Among them is Ariana. She looks at me with a mix of concern and fear that twists something deep inside me. I want to comfort her, but business must be taken care of first.
"Valen," she begins softly, stepping forward.
"Not now," I snap without looking at her, my tone sharper than intended.
She recoils as if struck and turns to run down the hall. Her sudden movement pulls at something in my chest, but I shove it aside. There’s no room for softness right now.
Tragan appears from around the corner, his usual calm demeanor in place. He approaches cautiously but with purpose.
"Sir," he says quietly, "a word?"
I turn to face him, eyes blazing. "What?"
He places a firm hand on my shoulder, guiding me away from the watching eyes of the staff. "What’s going on? You’re not usually this... volatile."
I shake off his hand and glare at him. "Thornhill happened! That rat bastard found a loophole and sold land to Axton Mining right next to my operations."
Tragan nods slowly. "I see. But taking it out on your staff won’t fix that."
"I don’t need a lecture from you," I growl.
He holds up his hands in surrender but doesn’t back down. "Nor do certain…staff members need a tongue lashing from you."
I take a deep breath and look away, realizing too late that my anger has made me lash out at everyone around me—including Ariana. The image of her running away flashes in my mind again, and regret mingles with my fury.
"You’re right," I admit grudgingly after a moment of tense silence. "I’ve been... distracted."
Tragan nods again but says nothing more about it. He knows when to push and when to let things lie.
Turning back towards the estate, I take another deep breath, trying to center myself. Thornhill may have struck a blow, but this isn’t over—not by a long shot.
As Tragan walks away, his parting words linger in the air: "Remember who you’re really fighting for."
I step out of the estate, the crisp air biting against my skin. The weight of Thornhill’s betrayal still hangs heavy, but I need to clear my head. I've been through worse; I’ll get through this too.
As I walk, the distant hum of machinery from Armstrong mingles with the chirping of alien birds. The contrast is stark, a reminder of the city's struggle to rebuild amidst nature’s resilience.
Mason’s words replay in my mind. Doubting your abilities... questioning your leadership... I clench my fists. They’ll see soon enough who they're dealing with.
"Valen, you’ve faced bigger threats than a land deal," I mutter to myself, the cold air burning in my lungs. "You’ve got media contacts, environmentalists—people who can blow this deal sky-high."
My thoughts shift to Ariana, her wide eyes filled with hurt when I snapped at her. She didn't deserve that. She’s been nothing but kind and genuine, unlike the sycophants that usually surround me.
"I have to make this right," I whisper, determination hardening in my chest. "She needs to trust me."
I picture Ariana’s face as she ran from me—her hair flowing behind her like a banner of retreat. It stings more than any business setback.
