The morning of Jane's trip began in a storm of post-it notes and checklists, most of which her mother called unnecessary.
"Ma, don't forget your vitamins after breakfast," Jane said, tossing a bottle of supplements into the ceramic dish beside the toaster.
Fallon Hayes raised an eyebrow. "You've told me six times already."
"I just... what if I'm not here and you forget? Or you get dizzy? I don't trust that care home completely."
"I'll be fine, sweetheart." Fallon's voice was gentle but firm. "This isn't the first time I've been alone. And besides, it's a care home. If I need anything, I'll ask."
Jane leaned against the counter, coat collar bunched awkwardly around her neck. Her suitcase waited by the door, packed. Yet her nerves buzzed.
Since her mother's illness two years ago, Jane had rarely left her for more than a night. Even then, she'd barely slept. The thought of being two thousand miles away made her chest tighten.
Fallon set down her tea and walked over, touching her daughter's cheek. "I've raised a brilliant, stubborn, talented young woman. You've earned this, and you're not going to miss this because your mother can take care of herself."
Jane's eyes misted. "I know you can. It's just hard..."
A sharp honk cut through them. Jane grabbed her bag. "That must be Harrison. He promised to take me to the airport."
As she stepped out onto the porch, she halted in her tracks.
The car in the drive wasn't Harrison's blue sedan. It was a black town car. Leaning against the open door, in a tailored coat and dark sunglasses, stood Jace Davis.
Her boss.
"You're late," he called.
Jane blinked, stunned. "Mr. Davis?"
He pushed off the door and stepped forward just as Fallon emerged behind her.
"I was expecting my friend," Jane stammered. "I didn't know you were picking me up."
"I wasn't," he replied smoothly. "But you hadn't shown up at the office, so I came to see if you'd bailed."
Jane turned to Fallon in disbelief, but she smiled, amused. "He's your boss, Jane. Let him boss."
"I'm sorry, sir," Jane said, smoothing her hair. "I just wanted to make sure my mom's all set before leaving."
Fallon stepped forward, brushing invisible lint off Jane's coat. "Don't apologize. It's my fault, really. I kept her longer than I should've. Just a mother's heart, you know."
Jace gave Fallon a small, respectful nod. "No apology needed, ma'am. She's been an asset to the team." Jace nodded to Fallon, then turned to Jane. "We've arranged medical support to escort her to our care facility. She's in good hands."
Fallon's hand went to her heart. "Thank you."
She hugged Jane tight and whispered something that made Jane close her eyes against the ache, fighting back tears.
Jace turned and opened the car door. "Shall we?"
Jane glanced back once at her mother waving from the porch, then slipped into the car.
The drive was quiet. Jane hugged her handbag and watched Queens blur past. Her throat felt tight.
"You've packed light," Jace said, breaking the silence.
"Essentials only. It's a work trip, not a vacation."
"Efficient. I like that."
She glanced sideways at him. "Did you really have to come all the way out here yourself?"
He was silent for a moment, watching the road. "I had business nearby. I didn't want you rushing and missing the flight. This trip matters. For all of us."
"All of us?" Jane asked, eyes narrowing.
"Arkos has roots in Switzerland. This conference isn't just about research and corporate collaboration, it's a chance to see the other side of the industry. Play our hand. Earn a seat at the table. You're going to meet people. Learn things that won't be written down. Take it seriously."
The way he said won't be written down made her stomach flutter with a mix of anticipation and unease.
"I will," she said softly.
He nodded and the city sped away beneath them.
While Jane's plane climbed through gray Manhattan sky, a different morning unspooled at the Carrington house.
Seraphina Carrington descended the grand staircase with the careless grace of someone born into power. Her silk robe trailed behind her. Phone in one hand, irritation in the other.
"Miriam!" she called sharply, voice echoing through the hall. "Where is my mail?"
She was seconds away from yelling again when movement caught her eye. Her father, by the foyer mirror, adjusting the knot of his tie with a surgical calm. She hadn't even noticed he was there.
"Morning, sir," she offered, flat and automatic.
Raymond didn't look. "You're up early."
"I'm expecting a delivery." Seraphina bristled. "I would've sent Miriam, but apparently, she's vanished."
Raymond smirked faintly. "That's what legs are for, Phyna."
She ignored the jab. "Where are you off to?"
"A work trip," he replied, glancing at his watch.
"When is it ever not a work trip?" she asked, arching a brow. "Which of the empires needs saving today?"
"Carrington Pharmaceuticals is unstable. I'm heading to the Global Bioethics Conference in Switzerland. Time to remind people who built the foundation."
"Lovely," she replied, already bored. "Good luck reviving the dead."
"Did you get the transfer I sent last night?" he asked.
"That was from you? I thought your new motto was financial discipline. Even your favorite child wasn't spared."
"Consider it a peace offering. A reminder that I still care."
"Ah! Monetized affection. Classic Carrington love language."
His tone hardened. "This isn't part of the plan. Make sure no one hears of this."
She smiled, slow and sharp. "I know how to keep a secret. I learned from the best."
She turned toward the door, glancing at the empty mail slot. "Miriam!" she called again, sharper this time.
Raymond resumed adjusting his cufflinks.
After a beat of silence, he said, "This... this chaos over mail is exactly the kind of instability I want you to grow out of."
Seraphina crossed her arms, leaning against the bannister. "So, now my emotional growth is part of your business strategy?"
Raymond glanced at her, eyes cool. "You're not a child anymore, Phyna. If you want to lead one day, and you do, you'll need to learn how to handle small disappointments without yelling down the halls like a deranged heiress."
She scoffed. "Is that what you think I want? To lead? To be part of your empire that you trust no one to handle aside yourself?"
"You might act indifferent, but you're still a Carrington. Like it or not, the legacy will fall on your shoulders. If not by choice, then by necessity."
"Then, maybe I'll donate the whole damn thing to charity."
Raymond didn't flinch. "That's the kind of recklessness that makes me reconsider involving you in certain matters."
She stepped closer, eyes bright. "No, what makes you reconsider is fear. You can't control me like you do Thea. So instead, you starve me of information and then throw money at me hoping it'll shut me up."
He stared at her, unmoved. "You're wrong."
"Am I?"
"You think I don't see through you? All these rebellion, it's a distraction. You want power, Seraphina, badly. Just like me. But you haven't earned it yet."
"Then let me," she said sharply, eyes gleaming with spark. "Stop dangling it in front of me like a reward. If I'm going to fight for a place at the table, I need to see the damn board."
"We'll revisit this after the six months I gave you. If things go as planned, there'll be more than enough fire to prove yourself."
Seraphina tilted her head. "And if it doesn't?"
"Then I suggest you learn how to put out fires. Fast."
Just then, Miriam appeared at the top of the stairs, out of breath.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Seraphina. I was helping Chef unload the new deliveries..."
"Save it," Seraphina snapped, though her voice lacked bite. "Just bring my mail."
Raymond moved for the door, briefcase in hand. He paused, then said quietly, "Don't meddle in affairs you don't understand. Don't play with fire you can't control."
She watched him go, the click of the door closing echoing through the marble hall.
"I don't play with fire," she whispered to no one "I start it."
Seraphina stood in the grand hallway, clutching her mail, her resentment curling like smoke.
Maybe the fire he warned her about was already lit.
And maybe she wasn't afraid to burn.