Chapter 4 - The Phoenix RisesTwo weeks passed.
The news cycle had been dominated by a single story: The Fall of Grant Carrington and the Rise of Lily.
Under Lily’s swift, decisive leadership, Carrington Global had undergone a massive public reformation. She canceled wasteful executive perks, renegotiated the fair-wage agreements with the crew unions, and appointed a female director to finish Velvet Shadows, completely stripping Sloane Monroe’s name from the project and replacing her with a critically acclaimed theatrical actress.
Wall Street responded with unprecedented enthusiasm. Carrington Global’s stock rose fifteen percent in ten days—the highest jump in the company’s forty-year history.
In the sunlit executive office on the top floor of Carrington Tower, Lily sat at a massive oak desk. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating structural blueprints for a new children’s hospital wing funded entirely by the Margaret Carrington Foundation.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Theodore Carrington stepped inside, carrying two cups of chamomile tea. He looked lighter, healthier than he had in years, as if shedding his toxic son had lifted a decade of weight from his shoulders.
“You’re working too hard,” Theodore said gently, placing a cup on her desk. “Dr. Chen said you need to limit your office hours to four hours a day.”
Lily smiled, resting a hand on her belly, which was now noticeably lower—a sign that her baby girl was getting ready to enter the world.
“I’m resting, Theodore,” Lily replied softly. “Honestly, managing this empire is far less stressful than trying to keep Grant from destroying himself.”
Theodore sighed, taking a seat across from her. “Arthur met with Grant’s defense lawyer this morning.”
Lily’s expression cooled slightly. “And?”
“He’s begging for a plea deal,” Theodore said, shaking his head. “The embezzlement charges alone carry a mandatory five-year sentence. He wants me to drop the civil lawsuits and release his trust fund allowance so he can pay his legal fees.”
Lily looked out over the city skyline. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that the decision isn't mine,” Theodore said firmly. “I told him that Carrington Global belongs to Lily now. If he wants mercy, he has to ask the woman he tried to throw into the street.”
Lily was silent for a moment. She looked at the framed photograph on her desk—a picture of Margaret Carrington standing in front of the studio’s first soundstage in 1985, holding a young Theodore’s hand.
“I won't send him to prison for twenty years, Theodore,” Lily said quietly. “He is still your son, and he is still my daughter’s father. But he will not get a single penny from the trust, and he will never set foot on a Carrington property again. He will sign over all parental rights to Margaret Rose, and he will work to pay off his debts like any other citizen.”
Theodore looked at her, his eyes shining with profound gratitude. “You are far more generous than he deserves, Lily.”
Suddenly, a sharp, tight contraction rippled across Lily’s lower abdomen.
She gasped, her hand clutching the edge of the desk as her tea cup rattled against its saucer.
Theodore stood up instantly, his face pale with sudden panic. “Lily? Is it time?”
May you like
Lily took a deep, controlled breath, feeling a warm sensation spread through her clothes. She looked up at Theodore, a bright, triumphant smile breaking through the pain.
“Theodore...” Lily whispered, catching her breath. “Call the driver. Your granddaughter wants to meet the Boss.”
