Her hands trembled. “No… no, this wasn’t here. You added this. This wasn’t the version he gave to me!”
She complained, and the lawyer shook his head. “These are the exact papers he showed you. It’s in the system. It’s been notarized and filed. You signed it. You agreed to it.”
The DPO stepped forward. “You have three minutes to gather your personal belongings and leave the premises.”
Stacey’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. She turned to Jethro, stunned. “You… you planned this?”
"I gave you a chance, Stella. I told her you will regret it, but you didn’t believe me. I'm here to have my company back. Take your personal belongings and leave."
Stella’s voice cracked as she pleaded, “Jethro, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
But he didn’t flinch. “You think you can use me. You tried to take what wasn’t yours. Now it’s time to go.”
With tears in her eyes, Stella gathered her things and walked out, her head bowed in shame. Once she was gone, Jethro turned to Stacey and took her hand.
“I brought you here so you can take over her,” he said softly. “You are the new CEO.”
Stacey’s eyes widened. “Me? But… I don’t know anything about running a company.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said with a smile. “There’s a manager who handles the operations. You will work with him, just like Stella did.”
Stacey was speechless. She looked around the office, then back at Jethro. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because I love you. And because I want to build a future with you. One where you never have to question your worth.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of a new beginning, Stacey knew she wasn’t just loved. She was chosen.
.
.
.
.
Few Days Later
.
.
.
The morning sun filtered through the curtains of Desmond’s room, casting a soft golden hue across the floor. He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his crisp white shirt for the third time.
His navy blue blazer hung neatly on the back of the chair, waiting to be worn. Today wasn’t just any random day; it was the day he would visit Anabel's family. Not as a visitor, but as a man ready to reclaim the love he had once lost.
His heart was light, yet full. Every movement he made was laced with anticipation. He had polished his shoes the night before, ironed his clothes, and even trimmed his beard to perfection so he would look irresistible. As he wore his wristwatch, he caught his reflection and smiled.
Down the hallway, his sister, Bella, was in her room, standing in front of her own mirror. She had changed outfits twice already, finally settling on a soft peach gown that complemented her skin tone. She brushed her hair and pinned it back with a black clip. Bella had always hated Anabel in the past. But now, she can't wait to have her back at the house. She has been so happy ever since Desmond announced their reconciliation.
She wanted to look her best, not just for the occasion, but because she knew how much this day meant to them as a family.
As she applied a final touch of lip gloss, she smiled to herself. “They were always meant to be.”
In the master bedroom, their mother, Mrs. Elizabeth, was seated at her vanity, adjusting her earrings with a serene smile. She wore a flowing emerald green lace gown. Her heart was full of peace and satisfaction. She had watched her son suffer in silence for months. And now, seeing him come back to life, seeing the light return to his eyes. It was everything she had prayed for.
She stood and smoothed the fabric of her dress, glancing at the framed photo of her late husband on the dresser. “I know you will be proud of him wherever you are,” she whispered.
Desmond walked into the living room and checked his watch, then sighed. "Mom! Bella!” he called out. “Are you guys done?”
“Give me a few minutes!” came the reply from Bella's room.
He leaned back into the couch, tapping his fingers on his knee. The anticipation was beginning to turn into impatience. He had rehearsed what he would say to Sir Orton and Mrs. Orton at least ten times in his head. At this moment, every second felt like an hour.