Sandra Hart

He was still talking about that nonsense. Again.

I smiled, trying not to roll my eyes as his voice droned on, filled with the same old desperation disguised as logic.

“...I’m going to make her come and get to know our business. This is getting annoying a..”

You're getting annoying.

“And if I have to force her, then I’ll do it. She’s my only successor. She has to learn how to operate the company. Since dance is no longer an option, the most reasonable and best choice is here. It always has been. I’m sure she’s going to agree with me now!”

For fuck’s sake.

I reached forward and gently massaged his temples, pretending to soothe him. In reality, I was one hand away from snapping his neck and finally ending my misery.

“You’re right, honey,” I said, lacing my tone with softness, pausing just long enough to seem thoughtful. “But… forcing her like this might not be the best approach.”

He exhaled, frustrated. “Then what do you suggest? I’ve waited years for her to make up her mind.”

Maybe she just doesn’t want it, I thought but I swallowed the words before they escaped. The last time I even hinted at something like that, it sent him into a spiral. And truth be told, I didn’t know what that girl wanted either. She kept everything bottled up like some fragile porcelain doll, cracking only when no one was looking.

After our marriage, I’d tried to be close to Blake. I really did. Invited her for shopping, spa days, coffee, lunch, tried to make it seem like we were a family. Anything to make her lower her guard. But she always declined. Politely, of course. Like that made it less of an insult.

She was always his little princess. The precious daughter. The golden child.

And now? She might just become the future boss, if Fred gets his way.

No. Absolutely not.

That should’ve ended five years ago, in that crash. She and her saintly mother were supposed to die. But of course, fate had to play its twisted little joke. Her mother died, yes, but Blake survived. With just a broken leg and a fresh wave of sympathy. And instead of letting her fade away, Fred only became more protective. More tolerant of her floundering, her indecision. Like he was waiting for her to come back stronger. Like he still believed in her.

And I, God help me, I tried. I tried to be her ally. To show her that I wasn’t the enemy. I knew she didn’t want the company, not really. But because she never explicitly said no, Fred held onto his delusion. He clung to that silence like it was hope. And to be honest, even I couldn’t trust her. One day, if she changed her mind, all it would take was a single yes and Fred would hand over the keys to the kingdom without blinking.

That’s the danger of silence. It keeps possibilities alive.

My phone buzzed on the table. I didn’t look.

Fred was still ranting.

Buzz.

Another one.

I reached and flipped it face down.

Then came the vibration again. And again. Four, five, six times. I sighed and glanced. The screen lit up with my nephew’s name, Jesse.

I ignored it. Whatever mess he was in could wait.

Fred leaned in again, hand gesturing as he launched into a story about the company’s expansion and “how Blake could take it further.”

I smiled. Nodded. Pretended I gave a damn.

Then,

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Another text.

Jesse: Call me. It’s urgent. Now.

Jesse: Something went wrong.

Jesse: We lost contact.

I blinked. My spine straightened.

What the hell do you mean you lost contact?

I excused myself to the bathroom, heart suddenly pounding but not with panic. With fury.

What the fuck have they done now?

As soon as I locked the door, the phone buzzed again. This time I answered.

“Tell me this is a joke.”

“Sandy, listen, I don’t know what the hell happened. Everything was fine. We were supposed to check in today, but no one's picking up. G, Kent, the whole place is quiet.”

“Quiet how?”

“No calls. No updates. No messages. We tried calling the burner phones we gave them and… nothing. Dead lines.”

I stared at the mirror, expression blank.

“And?” I asked coldly. “What’s the problem here, Jesse?”

“There’s a rumor going around. About a shootout near that property. Locals heard gunshots. We’re still trying to confirm but,”

I closed my eyes and counted to three.

“This wasn’t the plan,” I said through gritted teeth. “We were going to quietly secure things. Not start a fucking war zone.”

I didn’t even wanted to kidnap Blake like that but my nephews went with this plan anyway. And now all my work might be..

“We didn’t do anything! We just stopped hearing from them. We were going to check if the girl was stable, if everything was under control and now… now we don’t know anything.”

“Do you even know if she escaped?” I snapped.

“We don’t know shit. That’s the problem!”

I took a breath. Then another. Let it simmer.

“Clean it up,” I said icily. “Find out what happened and make it disappear. Quietly. I won’t have Fred hearing about any of this.”

“And Blake?”

“If she’s still there, then you better pray she’s tied up and bleeding in a ditch somewhere. Because if she made it out alive…”

My voice trailed off. I didn’t need to finish the sentence. He knew what it meant.

I hung up then I stood in front of the mirror and composed myself.

Smile. 

Soft eyes. 

Controlled breathing.

I walked back into the room where Fred sat, still scribbling some notes, too absorbed in his daydreams to notice the storm in my chest.

“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing up.

I smiled sweetly.

“Just Jesse. Minor family drama.”