As soon as Stephanie Riverplate stepped into the room, there was no mistaking her for anyone else. She held the same striking features as her brother—sharp cheekbones, a proud chin, and black hair that cascaded in sleek waves. But the difference was undeniable: where Alexander's eyes were dark and impenetrable, hers were a piercing blue, a gaze that carried the weight of years of quiet resentment.
Her aura was commanding. With the grace of someone used to power, she moved between her four-man legal team, settling herself in the middle. Gregory Baldwin, sitting at her right, gave a courteous nod to the room, but there was a subtle air of calculated superiority around her.
"I apologize for the delay," she began, her voice smooth, almost too smooth. "But to further apologize for the inconvenience, I'm willing to make a concession. Instead of half, I'm asking for thirty percent of the shares, and fifty billion from the company's annual profits. I'll invest it, of course, with a team I select."
The room went deathly quiet. Harvey Lancaster, ever the expert negotiator, exchanged a brief look with his team. The audacity of her demand was shocking, but there was something else too—something beneath her words.
Alexander's lips curled into a faint, bitter smile, the air around him thick with disbelief. "Stephanie, you've never so much as set foot in the company. And now you think you deserve all this?" He let the words linger like an accusation.
Her eyes flashed, the ice in her voice sharp as she responded, "Oh, please. Isn't this just another case of Dad's sexism? I'm the one with the PhD, the degree in business, while you—" She gestured vaguely, as though the words themselves were too menial. "You got special schooling, but somehow, you're the one he handed the company to."
Alexander's expression hardened. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of his next words. "The 'special schooling' you mock was training directly from our father. I learned from him, every single day. The company was his legacy, and I was the one he chose to carry it." His voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it now, a hint of something darker.
Harvey, sensing the growing friction, was about to interject when Alexander silenced him with a sharp gesture. "Let me handle this," he said, his tone final.
For a moment, the room was thick with tension, each breath drawn in slowly, as if the atmosphere itself was holding its breath.
Alexander finally spoke, his voice cold, his words deliberate. "You are my sister, and I'm trying to make this right. I offer you five percent of the company, but here's the condition: you won't be involved in anything—no decisions, no meetings, no influence. You'll get the percentage, but you'll have no say."
The words hit Stephanie like a slap. Her face flushed with fury. "What do you expect me to do with that? I left everything for you, didn't I? Don't you remember how Dad treated me growing up? He always had you by his side, while I was stuck watching from the sidelines! You think I don't deserve something, anything, from what he built?"
Alexander stood now, his towering figure casting a long shadow over the table. His voice cut through the room like a blade. "You deserve nothing," he said, the venom in his tone unmistakable. "You left. I stayed. I shouldered the weight of everything. Do you even know what that was like? You have no idea."
His voice faltered slightly, the mask slipping for just a moment, and there was something raw and painful in his eyes as he continued. "I followed Dad to meetings from the time I was a child, trying to prove myself, trying to meet every single expectation placed on me. And I did it alone. I was on my own. And that's why I deserve this."
The room was silent, except for the faint sound of Stephanie's breath catching in her throat. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
Alexander didn't wait for her to respond. "I've worked for everything I have. You can take your thirty percent and your fifty billion and shove them. In fact, take that five percent off the table, too. I'm not giving you a single thing."
For a long, suffocating moment, they just stared at each other. Stephanie's fists clenched at her sides, her face a mask of seething frustration, her blue eyes burning with the fire of old grudges. Alexander didn't flinch. His gaze never wavered from hers, his determination unshaken.
Finally, with a flick of her wrist, Stephanie stood, the sound of her chair scraping across the floor loud in the thick silence. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but sharp with finality. "We'll meet in court."
Her team rose with her, and together, they turned and walked out, the door slamming behind them with a finality that echoed in the room. Alexander stayed seated, his body rigid, the weight of the conversation lingering like a storm cloud. His gaze was unwavering, his jaw clenched tight.
"I'm not losing any of my money," he muttered, the fire of determination burning in his chest.
His team exchanged looks but said nothing. They knew better than to question him now. His voice, low and resolute, echoed again. "We'll win. I'm not losing. Not now. Not ever."
The battle was far from over, and as Alexander sat there, brooding, his mind already racing ahead to the war he was about to fight, one thing was certain: he would stop at nothing to protect what was his.