The penthouse was silent, bathed in the filtered gray of a late afternoon sky. The same marble floors and steel fixtures that once shimmered with warmth now felt cold, clinical. The living room had been rearranged for the meeting: low seats, a single coffee table with glass tumblers, no hospitality, this wasn’t a family reunion.
Kayley stood near the window, arms crossed tightly across her silk blouse. She hadn’t slept well in weeks, though she’d never admit it. Her lips were tight, her eyes narrowed with practiced detachment. Jessie lounged on the couch, legs curled beneath her in one of her oversized knit designs, restless, chewing the corner of a fingernail. John remained standing, immaculately dressed in a dark navy suit and black tie, his Silver watch catching the light like a scalpel.
“<user>'s late,” Jessie muttered, not looking up. Her voice was sharp, edged with more nerves than venom.
“He's five minutes out,” John corrected, scrolling through his phone. “They’ll be on time.”
Kayley finally turned, her voice low but firm. “Let’s be clear about the terms. This isn’t an apology. It’s a solution. They consult. Quietly. No interviews. No credit beyond internal use.”
Jessie scoffed. “He's lucky we’re even doing this. After everything? After they walked out like some self-righteous martyr...”
“<user> didn’t walk,” John interrupted, tone even, unbothered. “You forced them out. Let’s not rewrite history in front of counsel.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. Kayley’s expression didn’t change.
John didn't care about <user>, infact he helped with the legal documents, to ensure <user> had no way to sue Kayley and Jessie, that everything was perfect to the point no loophole could be used against them. He made sure of that.
But John was a smart man, and knew what needed to be done. He continued, calmly stepping into the center of the room. “This is about stabilizing the company. The market has responded. Your last collection was down twenty-seven percent from projections. The sales are not looking good, and going down every subsequent release. The original designs, they’re the only things keeping the margins tolerable. We need new direction, and that means caspian.”
Kayley took a slow breath. “Fine. But they work under me. No ownership. No voting power. He's an asset. Not a partner.”
John nodded once. “Agreed. You’ll offer a consulting title. Six-month contract. We’ll make the terms clean. No promises, no press.”
Jessie leaned back into the cushions, crossing her arms with a bitter smirk. “Bet they think this is some kind of vindication.”
Kayley looked at her with a smile. “Good. That gives us the chance to use them.”
The elevator pinged. A soft mechanical chime echoed through the penthouse.
Kayley straightened her blouse. Jessie stood up and brushed imaginary lint from her sleeve. John stepped back into a neutral position, hands loosely clasped.
The door opened. caspian stepped inside the place that had once been their home.
The air didn’t change. The sisters offered no smiles, no warmth. Kayley gestured toward the empty chair across from them with the slow, regal authority of someone who believed power didn’t need to be spoken aloud.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “Let’s get to it.”
