The meeting room was silent except for the soft hum of the projector. Helena sat upright at the long table, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Around her were shareholders, directors, and senior executives—faces she recognized from memories that weren't fully hers.
At the head of the table, Chairman D'Arven cleared his throat. "Given Helena's current condition," he said, his voice firm and public, "I have decided to temporarily freeze her shares until she fully recovers."
A low murmur spread through the room. Helena didn't react. Inside, Aika simply blinked. Oh. So that's how we're doing this.
The chairman continued, "As for the South Asian regulatory project—it will be reassigned to Marcus D'Arven."
Marcus, seated two chairs away, leaned back comfortably and offered Helena a smile. Not a polite smile. A smile that said I won. Helena met his eyes. For a moment, she hesitated. This was the part where the original Helena would've stayed silent, or exploded, or cried later.
Aika chose none of those. She raised her hand. "Fine," she said calmly. "You can freeze my shares." Marcus's smile widened—until she continued. "But the project? You should ask first."
The room went still. "Ask whom?" the Chairman frowned.
"The person the project was contracted for," Helena replied evenly. "Mr. Vahn. That project wasn't assigned to me because of family; it was assigned because of expertise. If you're transferring it, you should confirm whether Mr. Vahn consents."
"That won't be necessary," the Chairman snapped.
"Then I assume," Helena said, her voice steady, "the board is prepared for the legal consequences if the client withdraws."
The silence this time was heavier. Across the table, Vahn—who had been watching silently—suddenly leaned forward. "She's right," he broke in. "The South Asian contract was signed based on Helena D'Arven's involvement. If she is being sidelined, I will need to reconsider whether I remain involved at all. Belief is not the same as trust."
The Chairman's jaw tightened. "This discussion will be… postponed."
The Choice: Exile to the Mountains
As the shareholders filed out, the room felt suffocating. Marcus tapped a gold pen against the glass. "The investors are gone, Helena. Sign the waiver. You're clearly in no state to lead."
"I just need time," Aika pleaded, playing the role of the vulnerable daughter. "Maybe a week?"
"Time isn't free," Marcus said with a glint of cruelty. "Let's make it a test. We have a subsidiary property in the northern mountains: The D'Arven Mountain Orphanage. It's a drain on our resources. If you can make it sustainable in one month, we'll consider your amnesia 'cured' and return your shares."
"And if I fail?"
"Then you leave this house and never use the D'Arven name again," the Chairman thundered.
Aika looked at the folder. A mountain orphanage. Cold, lonely, and unwanted—just like her. To her brothers, this was a death sentence. To Aika, it sounded like heaven. No Airon. No paparazzi. Just me and the mountains.
"I accept," she said firmly.
The "Bro-man" Appears
After signing the papers, Aika was ordered to join a "Family Lunch." While waiting in the lounge, the private elevator dinged. A tall man in designer spectacles stepped out. He moved with a quiet, dangerous confidence.
Who is this one? Aika wondered.
"Noel," Vahn greeted him.
The name hit Aika like a blow. The secret shadow-brother? The ultimate villain? Her stomach did a somersault. Wow, Helena, your stars are really shining today. The entire main cast is here. Can't this story let me have one little plate of pasta without a life-changing revelation?
"And this," Vahn said, "is the woman of the hour. Miss Helena D'Arven."
Noel watched her with cold curiosity. "So, this is the sister I've heard so much about."
Airon smirked at Aika's shocked face. "Surprised? This is your brother. The one your father kept in the shadows while you were playing princess."
The Olympic Car Ride
Logistics were announced, and Aika's bad luck struck again. She was assigned to ride to the restaurant with Noel and Vahn.
Trapped in the back of a sleek sedan, the silence was an invisible elephant. Finally, Noel spoke. "How are you, Helena?"
"I am good, sir," Aika blurted out. Sir?! her inner monologue screamed. He's your brother, not a waiter! "I mean... Brother. Sir-Brother. Bro...man?"
In the front, Vahn's assistant let out a tiny snort. Noel stared at her. "So, what is your career plan?"
"To eat a good lunch," Aika said innocently. Her stomach growled in agreement. "By the way... where were you... being? Like, where have you been lately?"
"Abroad. Don't you know that?"
"Oh! Right! Abroad!" Aika gestured wildly. "The place that isn't here! I knew that! My memory is just currently on a vacation in 'Abroad' too."
The Squeaky Sneaker Run
At the restaurant, Vahn and Noel stepped out and began power-walking toward a private area, their long legs eating up the pavement. Aika was left behind, her white sneakers squeaking—squeak, squeak, squeak—as she jogged to keep up.
"Wait!" she wheezed, doubling over at the top of the stairs. "Walk... slowly! Are we going to lunch or are we qualifying for the Olympics? My legs are normal-sized. Yours are... unfair."
Vahn's lips twitched. "My apologies, Helena. We'll adjust our pace."
Aika then pointed at the elevator they had just walked past. "Logic?" she asked, gesturing at the lift. Noel just stared.
The Misunderstanding Queen
The tension of the silent lounge finally caused Aika to bolt for the restroom. When she returned, she pushed the door open quietly and froze.
Vahn was leaning deeply over Noel. One of Vahn's hands was on Noel's chest, and Noel was tilted back, face flushed, looking up with wide eyes. (Vahn was actually just trying to blot a grape juice stain off his tie, but Aika didn't know that.)
Aika's panic evaporated, replaced by a 100% pure fujoshi brain blast. She wore a knowing, mischievous smirk.
"Oh!" she chirped. "Please, don't mind me! I had no idea I was third-wheeling so hard."
Vahn and Noel snapped apart as if electrocuted. "Helena, it's not—" Vahn started, his face turning pink.
"It's okay! Really!" Aika gave them a supportive thumbs-up. "Love is love, right? I'll just sit here and eat my appetizers very quietly. You two continue your... 'business' discussion."
"It was grape juice!" Noel groaned.
"Mhm, sure," Aika winked. "The 'Spilled Juice' trope. Classic."
For the first time, the two most feared men in the city looked completely powerless.