fter their return to Starling City, everything felt different. The sprawling mansion, which once had been a home, now felt like an unfamiliar monument to the past. Henry and Oliver had barely been home for a few hours before they were swept into the quiet chaos of their family dynamics. Moira had been overjoyed to see them both, her worries now subsiding into an underlying tension. The air was thick with unspoken words as their mother, Thea, and even Walter tried to navigate the delicate waters of their homecoming.
The evening found Henry in a sharp suit, one tailored to fit the new, confident version of him that had emerged from years of survival. Oliver, still healing physically and emotionally, was quieter than usual. Yet Henry's gaze, cold yet calculating, shifted over the dinner table as he mentally prepared to reassert his rightful place as the heir to Queen Consolidated. His mind was already at work—subtly dismantling the current power structure without raising alarm.
The mansion's dining room, elegant as always, felt oddly silent as the family sat down for dinner. The ornate table, laden with fine china and crystal, served as the backdrop for a conversation laced with tension. Walter Steele, Moira's new husband, took his seat at the opposite end of the table. His calm demeanor suggested control, but Henry could see the cracks. It didn't take long before the conversation turned toward the topic Henry had been anticipating since his arrival.
Moira cleared her throat. "As you both know," she began, her voice slightly more formal than usual, "Walter has been managing Queen Consolidated in your absence."
Henry's gaze didn't falter as he set his fork down, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. He had expected this, of course. Walter had assumed control of the company, but Henry wasn't interested in excuses.
"I'm sure Walter has done his best," Henry said smoothly, his tone almost too calm. He exchanged a glance with Oliver, who was silent but attentive. "But the company is mine. I'm the rightful heir."
Moira shifted uncomfortably, and there was a brief flicker of something in Walter's eyes—an acknowledgment of the truth Henry had just stated, but there was no immediate resistance. Walter had his own power plays, but this was not one of them. He understood his place, even if he had tried to usurp it.
"I'm not asking for shares or joint leadership," Henry continued, leaning back in his chair, his tone cool but resolute. "This is my company, and it's time I take back what's mine."
Oliver shot him a look, the realization settling in. Moira's hesitation spoke volumes, and she didn't seem ready to fight it. She had expected this confrontation, but it wasn't just about business anymore. The past five years had created rifts in their family—rifts that would take more than a few words to heal.
At that moment, Thea walked in, her eyes lighting up when she saw both brothers. "It's good to have you both back," she said, her voice laced with a mix of joy and relief. Despite the strain in the room, Thea's presence was a welcome change from the business-heavy atmosphere.
"We're glad to be back," Oliver said quietly, a smile barely curving his lips. He hadn't yet processed everything, but the return to some semblance of normalcy was a relief.
Thea sat down beside Henry, her gaze flickering between him and the others. But before the conversation could continue, the maid entered, carrying a tray laden with food. As she set the plates down, one slipped from her hands, and Henry, ever perceptive, caught the incident out of the corner of his eye. His reflexes were quick, but his composure was even quicker.
"Будьте осторожны, вы не хотите повредить ничего." ("Be careful, you don't want to break anything.")
The maid froze, her eyes widening as she looked at Henry in shock. She hadn't expected him to speak her language. But Henry's calm gaze was unyielding, and the maid quickly regained her composure, nodding her thanks.
Thomas, who had been quietly observing, looked up from his seat, his eyes widening in surprise. "I didn't know you spoke Russian."
Henry flashed a small, knowing smile, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It's useful to know more than just the common languages."
Walter's face tightened, and he quickly recovered from the moment of surprise. He had expected Henry to be sharp, but this—this was something he hadn't anticipated. Walter's eyes narrowed slightly, a faint question lingering in his gaze. "I didn't realize you took Russian at college," he remarked, his voice laced with polite curiosity.
Henry's smile remained in place, but it was more deliberate now—sharp, almost mocking in its calmness. "I didn't realize you wanted to sleep with my mother," he replied smoothly, his words leaving no room for doubt.
The air around the table seemed to shift. Moira's eyes flickered with embarrassment, but she didn't speak. The weight of Henry's statement hung in the air, and Walter, though surprised, didn't flinch. He had been careful about hiding his relationship with Moira from Henry and Oliver, but it was clear now that they knew.
Oliver's eyes locked onto Henry, his expression unreadable. The brothers exchanged a quiet understanding. Moira, on the other hand, was trying her best to mask her discomfort, but it was impossible to ignore the tension that had seeped into the room. It was as if a quiet war had been waged over dinner, and the first shots had been fired.
"Henry…" Moira started, but her voice trailed off. There was no point in denying it now. Walter hadn't just stepped into the role of CEO—he had woven himself deeper into their lives than anyone had expected.
Henry took a sip of wine, his posture impeccable as he looked around the table, noting the subtle shifts in the room. His gaze lingered on Walter for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Thea, offering her a reassuring smile. "It's alright, Thea. I'm not angry. Just… business as usual."
The tension was palpable, but Henry didn't break his cool demeanor. He had already won this small battle—without raising his voice, without throwing a fit. The Queen family had its issues, but Henry had no intention of letting Walter think he could stay in control for long. This dinner was just the beginning. Henry knew how to play the long game.
The rest of the evening passed in silence, each person lost in their own thoughts. Moira and Walter exchanged a few words under their breath, but no one else spoke. Henry's mind was already racing with plans. Queen Consolidated would be his again, but it wouldn't be an easy fight. For now, though, he had laid the groundwork. Walter knew where the power truly lay.
The slow pace of the evening allowed Henry to study each of them carefully—Oliver, Moira, Walter, and even Thea. He knew they were all adjusting to the new reality, to the reality that Henry was back, and nothing would be the same again.
As dinner drew to a close, Henry stood, his movements fluid, calm, and deliberate. "I'll be in my office tomorrow," he said, his tone leaving no room for debate. "We have a lot of work to do."
Walter nodded, and Moira's gaze lingered on Henry for a moment longer than necessary, the weight of his words still hanging between them.
Henry's presence filled the room, and everyone knew—this was just the beginning.