…
…
…
Victoria Carter sat across from the family lawyer, Mr. Hargrove. The room was steeped in silence, save for the soft ticking of an antique clock.
Documents lay sprawled across the mahogany desk between them, each page a testament to their covert operations.
"Everything has been arranged while your sister was incapacitated," Mr. Hargrove began, his voice low and steady.
"The paperwork you signed gave us the authority to act on behalf of the company, ensuring its operations continued seamlessly."
Victoria nodded, her expression unreadable. "And the assets?"
"Transferred under the company's management account, which, as we discussed, you now control exclusively," he confirmed, adjusting his glasses.
"Legally, everything is justified under the guise of corporate governance. Beatrice's condition made it... necessary."
"Good," Victoria replied crisply. "It's imperative that no one suspects the transitions were anything but essential for the stability of the company."
Mr. Hargrove leaned back in his chair, folding his hands.
"We've covered all traces. However, should Beatrice regain full capacity and challenge these decisions, we need to be prepared to defend them."
Victoria's lips curled into a thin smile. "Let her try. By the time she realizes the extent of what's been done, it will be too late for her to reverse any of it."
"But we must tread carefully," the lawyer cautioned. "Beatrice's awakening could bring unforeseen complications. We need to keep her under the impression that all was done for the best interests of the company—and her own welfare."
Victoria stood, her silhouette framed by the moonlight spilling through the window.
"Keep a close watch on her recovery process," she instructed. "Any sign of her regaining her faculties or questioning too deeply... we need to be the first to know."
Mr. Hargrove nodded, gathering the documents. "You will be updated regularly. Your foresight to involve legal cover for these actions was most prudent."
As the lawyer left, Victoria turned to gaze out the window, her mind racing with plans and possibilities.
The empire she had so meticulously commandeered under the guise of necessity was now almost completely hers.
Her victory, though near, was not yet secured.
…
…
…
"Beatrice won't know what hit her," Victoria murmured to herself, a cold resolve settling in her heart.
She would not allow sentiments or familial ties to dismantle the empire she built from the shadows.
Whatever it took, Victoria was ready to fight to keep her power, her control, and her legacy.
"It's always been me," she whispered fiercely to herself.
"Always Victoria, working tirelessly to manage the company, to push it forward!" Her voice rose with each word, echoing in the confines of her luxury car.
"And that fool Beatrice? What does she do? Nothing! Just prancing around, playing with toddlers in kindergarten!"
The bitterness in her voice was palpable, each word steeped in years of suppressed jealousy and overshadowed achievements.
Victoria had always felt that her efforts were the backbone of the family's prosperity, yet it was Beatrice who had inherited the lion's share of their parents' assets.
To Victoria, this was not just unfair—it was a mockery of her dedication and hard work.
"Teaching songs and games to children, while I broker million-dollar deals," she scoffed, her mind replaying the countless times she'd seen Beatrice covered in paint and glitter after her classes, carefree and oblivious to the weight of real responsibility.
As the city lights blurred past, Victoria's thoughts turned darker. Beatrice's accident had presented an opportunity to finally claim her rightful place, to no longer be the overlooked daughter who did all the work with none of the recognition.
Beatrice's recovery now threatened to upend that, to reinstate the status quo where Victoria was the silent bearer of burdens, unseen and unappreciated.
"Her existence complicates everything," Victoria muttered, her hands tightening on the wheel.
The reality of Beatrice's awakening was not just a disruption of her plans; it was a personal affront, a challenge to the order Victoria had tried to establish.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Victoria steeled herself before entering Beatrice's room.
"If Beatrice is back, then I must be smarter, more ruthless. I will not let her weakness drag me down again."
As Victoria stood by Beatrice's hospital bed, her mind churned with dark thoughts, despite the calm she tried to project.
She couldn't help but resent the way Beatrice's condition pulled her back into familial legacy she long wished to inherited.
There, she found her sister, pale and fragile, her eyes searching the room until they landed on Victoria. The look of relief on Beatrice's face was almost enough to break Victoria's resolve.
"Victoria, you came," Beatrice said weakly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Yes, Beatrice, I'm here," Victoria replied, taking her sister's hand, the touch sending a jolt of remorse through her. "I'm here."
As they locked eyes, a thousand unspoken words passed between them.
Victoria could only hope her secrets would remain buried, that the facade she presented would hold.
This bitter thought lingered as she watched Beatrice's weak smile, her sister's vulnerability fueling Victoria's inner turmoil.
It wasn't just about the assets or the power; it was about proving to everyone, that she was the capable one, the deserving one.
As Beatrice's voice filled the room with a weak recount of her dreams and the confusion about her current state, Victoria nodded mechanically.
Inside, however, she was distant, detached—her mind weaving through the implications of Beatrice's recovery.
Every word Beatrice spoke felt like a thread pulling at the neat tapestry of Victoria's carefully arranged plans.
Beatrice's survival threatened to bring everything crashing down around Victoria.
The control over the family's assets wasn't just about wealth—it was about erasing the years of being second-best, of living in Beatrice's shadow.
In her heart, Victoria believed that Beatrice's absence would secure her own legacy, not just financially but as the capable heir who took the Carter family to new heights.
The room felt suffocating as Victoria masked her agitation with a practiced smile.
"You need to rest, Beatrice," she said softly, her voice hiding the coldness of her thoughts. "We all want what's best for you."
Stepping out of the room, Victoria's facade finally cracked as she entered the empty hallway.
The weight of her true feelings bore down on her—resentment, ambition, and a chilling indifference to the plight of her own sister.
Victoria knew she had to maintain her composure and play the part of the concerned sister, but as she walked away, her thoughts were not of worry or love.
They were of strategies and plans, of moves and countermoves in a game where Beatrice's well-being was nothing more than a pawn.
As she left the hospital, the night air felt colder, harsher.
Victoria wrapped her coat tighter around herself, her mind already racing ahead to the next meeting, the next deal, the next step in securing her place at the top, where she believed she rightfully belonged—unencumbered by the weak link of family loyalty.
*