The mansion was quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that brought peace but the aftermath kind.
The kind that follows war, where every sound feels like an echo of something lost.
Jayden stepped through the marble foyer, his body stiff beneath fresh bandages, pain stitched into his every breath.
Amelia clung to his hand, refusing to let go even as Sienna opened the door for them, her other arm wrapped protectively around her daughter's shoulders.
Inside, soft jazz spilled from unseen speakers.
The air smelled of chamomile and lemon balm Sienna's touch.
Yet beneath the luxury was something raw. The battle hadn't followed them here, but its ghost had.
Leo limped in behind them, head down, already reaching for a whiskey decanter like muscle memory.
Sienna glanced at Jayden.
"Come. Sit before you fall."
He didn't argue.
She led him to the sunken living room, where soft cream couches faced the floor to ceiling glass wall overlooking Orange County's glowing skyline.
The city looked peaceful out there.
Untouched.
Blissfully unaware of the war its shadows had swallowed that morning.
Jayden collapsed into the couch with a grunt.
Sienna knelt in front of him not as a lover, not as a CEO, but as a woman who had nearly lost him.
"You shouldn't be standing," she murmured, unbuttoning his shirt with gentle fingers to check the fresh gauze beneath.
"And yet here I am," he rasped.
"Still breathing."
"For now," she said, eyes narrowing, but her hands moved slower, more carefully.
Amelia curled up beside him and laid her head on his lap. Her breathing was steady now, rhythmic.
She'd finally cried herself to sleep.
Sienna watched her for a moment. Then looked up at him.
"You said we'd shift my company. That you'd rebuild it stronger."
Jayden nodded.
"And I will."
"How?" Her voice was soft, but it carried steel underneath. "Because after today... I realized something. I'm tired of defending myself. Tired of surviving. I want to win."
Jayden's eyes met hers.
"You're speaking my language."
He reached for the tablet on the coffee table and tapped the screen. A digital blueprint unfolded: Hale Enterprises the old logo glitched, then morphed.
It became something sleeker. Bolder. New.
H.A.L.E. Industries.
"Welcome to the new Hale,"
Jayden said, voice low.
"No more sterile boardrooms. No more playing nice with fake partners. We go underground. We leverage tech, media, defense anything with claws."
Sienna stared at the screen.
"This isn't just a company anymore," he continued.
"This is a fortress. A syndicate in heels. We'll bury the Park family in headlines, buy out their allies, strip them of power before they even know they're bleeding."
She leaned back, lips parted slightly.
"And what do we become?"
Jayden tilted his head.
"A ghost network with a queen."
She was silent.
Then: "My board will fight it. They still think I'm just the grieving widow in heels."
"Then we burn the board."
Sienna blinked.
He leaned forward, voice dark velvet.
"You've been polite too long, Sienna. You want to rule? You don't ask permission."
A beat of silence.
Then she smiled.
Not soft. Not sweet.
Predatory.
"Let's burn the board."