𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢

It had been three months since I moved back to my hometown. It felt like a lifetime ago that I packed up my life, left the fast-paced chaos of the city, and returned to the familiar streets I grew up on. Yet, here I was, settled back into a place I never thought I'd return to. The circumstances were far from ideal—my father has been sick for quite some time, and the doctors said it was only a matter of time before the inevitable. But for now, he was still here, still alive, still able to sit in his chair on the porch and watch Noah and Na'Jae, my two little boys, chase each other across the lawn with laughter bubbling out of them like a fountain.

My father adored them, more than I think I had ever seen him adore anything. He would sit for hours, watching their every move as if he was trying to absorb all the joy he could before it was too late. I could still hear his raspy voice when Noah, would run up to him and jump into his lap, his small arms wrapping around his grandfather's neck.

"My boy," he would whisper, his wrinkled hand brushing through Noah's hair. "You've got a good heart."

Na'Jae, my mischievous one, would climb up on his other side, resting his head on my father's shoulder, and they'd all just sit there—my father and my boys, one moment. Those were the moments I cherished most. They were the moments I never wanted to lose.

Then there was the company. My father's company, a multimillion-dollar enterprise that he had built from the ground up, had been his life's work, his legacy. He had handed me the reins not long after I moved back. His health was failing, but his mind was sharp, and his decision was clear. He wanted me to take over as CEO, to carry on his vision, to protect what he had worked so hard to build.

I had hesitated at first, unsure if I could balance running a company and raising two boys on my own. I ran multiple businesses overseas but they basically ran themsevles. None of them as big as this one. But my father, in his quiet, determined way, had looked me in the eye and told me that I was the only one he trusted with it. And so, I took the position, stepping into his shoes while trying to navigate the complexity of motherhood at the same time. It wasn't easy, but I had always thrived under pressure.

Today, I found myself in the middle of preparing for one of the most important business meetings of the year. I sat behind my desk, the sleek surface of it reflecting the soft morning light that filtered through the wide glass windows of my office. The view overlooked the city, a mixture of towering skyscrapers and the familiar, worn-down parts of town I had grown up in. I glanced at my reflection in the glass, straightening my posture, and smoothing down the sleek black pencil skirt I wore. My heels clicked softly as I crossed the room to the mirror, fixing my hair—a neat bun today, practical but stylish. The suit jacket hugged my shoulders, exuding power and confidence, two things I needed right now.

"London?" I called, my voice calm but authoritative.

My personal assistant, London, was efficient, sharp, and always three steps ahead. She was one of the few people I could rely on without question, and today was no different. She appeared at the door almost instantly, holding a tablet in her hand, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration.

"Yes, Ms. Roberts?"

"Send in my twelve o'clock," I said, taking a deep breath and turning back toward my desk. I didn't have time for nerves today. I needed to focus. This meeting had to go perfectly.

London nodded, glancing down at her tablet, her fingers tapping quickly as she made the arrangements. "Of course. They'll be right in."

I sat down, adjusting the papers in front of me, ensuring everything was in order. I turned my chair slightly, fixing my hair one last time, my mind already running through the key points I needed to hit in the meeting. My father had taught me well—preparation was everything.