Alden sat in the quiet car, watching the world pass through the tinted window. Buildings and trees blurred into a monotonous rhythm, broken only by the occasional flash of color from passing vehicles. His fingers idly traced the stitches on the leather armrest, each bump grounding him in the present. He had sat in place for hours now, he felt caged. Long-distance travel always left him restless, trapped between destinations that felt equally uninspiring.
"Yes, sir, I understand." Jon's voice cut through the silence. Sitting beside him, the secretary balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear while typing furiously on another device. "Yes, we'll make it on time. Yes, I'll go over the details with him beforehand. Understood, sir."
Jon glanced briefly at Alden before shifting his attention back to the call.
"Alden is currently asleep," he lied smoothly. "Shall I wake him?" A pause. "Of course. I'll inform him as soon as he's awake. Goodbye, sir."
Jon hung up, massaging his temple as if the conversation itself had drained him.
"Alden," he said, not bothering to check if the name would elicit a response. "Your father wants to remind you about tonight's dinner. The guest list has been updated, and your attendance is now mandatory. We'll head straight there after we're done—"
"I'm not going." Alden's response came before Jon could finish, his gaze never leaving the window.
Jon sighed, his fingers pressing harder against his temple. "Sir, I'm begging you. I might actually lose my job over this."
"Is that so?" A faint smile tugged at Alden's lips, his tone light with mockery.
"It is."
"Shame. You've done well."
Jon gritted his teeth but didn't argue. He knew better than to push further. Alden's words were always final, delivered with the same detached certainty.
"Don't worry," Alden added. "I'll make sure to get you a proper severance package."
"Please don't joke about this, sir. Even if I got a package, who's going to hire someone fired from the corporation? My reputation will be ruined."
"The package should cover a nice home in the countryside. You're being greedy."
"Please stop."
Alden chuckled softly. He knew his father wouldn't fire Jon, his ears would bleed from the nagging of the ethics board of conduct for unjustified layoff. Moreover, the man was too perfect as a secretary—meticulous, competent, and unflinchingly loyal. This is why he was placed as Alden's secretary in the first place, his father wanted Alden's work to show results, and Jon was the fail-safe.
Alden's antics were just another part of the job description, though he sometimes wondered how far he could push before the man finally snapped.
"Why does a dinner even concern a mere team leader? It's not in my job description."
Jon's mouth twitched, a lecture visibly forming, but Alden cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"I don't want to hear it."
The secretary's rant—about flexibility, respect, and the importance of going above and beyond—was as predictable as the outcome of this conversation. Alden simply didn't care. He didn't have to. His position was handed to him, a cushy title that didn't require justification beyond his last name.
It was like playing a game with all the upgrades maxed out from the start. Smooth sailing, no challenges, and no stakes. Over and over again. His job was as dull as the scenery outside, and according to what he knew, Alden was the next in line for a promotion to a senior position.
Nowadays, the only fun stuff he gets to do is some harmless abuse of authority. But that too is starting to get boring. Alden didn't wish to push his antics further than this and really affect his father.
Alex Vaughn—a self-made titan, the founder and CEO of Vaughn Dynamics, a corporate empire that spanned industries. To the world, Alex was a symbol of ambition and power, but to Alden, he was a man carrying a lot on his shoulders. A caring father with a soft spot for his family.
The Vaughn family's fortune had been both a blessing and a curse. A few years ago, his mother had spiraled after a significant drop in the company's stock. The financial loss wasn't permanent—far from it as they have since long recovered—but for a woman who had spent her life basking in the continued momentum of success since day 1, it was a crack in the foundation of her world. She'd never recovered.
These days, his mother spent her time either hiding from the world or going on lavish spending sprees with her so-called friends. It wasn't unusual for her to return home, bags in hand, only to break down into tears, gripped by the fear of losing everything.
It pained Alden to watch her unravel like that. It pained his father, too, though he showed it differently. His father's response had been to double down on securing the family's legacy, as if doing so could somehow restore what they'd lost.
Words of encouragement toward Alden in his youth gradually turned into weighted expectations as Alden got older. "You'll thank me one day." Alex would always say, his voice firm with certainty as he handed Alden unshakable obligations. Although it was never to the extent of forced compliance, it seems that Alden inherited his father's soft spot for family.
"Are you having fun, Jon?" Alden asked, breaking the silence. His finger continues rapping against the leather armrest. The artificial scent of the new diffuser was starting to irritate him a bit.
"What fun?" Jon didn't look up from his phone, fingers still flying over the screen. "All I do is clean up after you, what fun is there to have?"
"So quit."
"I'm finding joy in the little things," Jon replied dryly.
Alden snorted but didn't press further. The banter was a silly distraction, nothing more.
Silence returns to the space as Alden continues his sightseeing. By now, the trees had given way to concrete and glass, skyscrapers looming ahead signaling their approach to their destination. Alden felt no relief. Trading the confines of the car for the stifling obligations was no improvement to him.
"It'll get better as you grow older," Jon said suddenly, his eyes still glued to his phone.
Alden turned, caught off guard by the comment. "Are you speaking from exp—"
The words froze on his tongue.
Blinding headlights surged toward them, too fast to avoid. A deafening horn. Jon's sharp intake of breath.
And then—
Nothing.