Chapter 10 - Dawn of a New Empire
One year later.
The grand ballroom of the Bennett Horizon Tower was alive with music, laughter, and the soft clinking of crystal glasses.
The gala celebrated the first anniversary of Bennett Horizon Capital and the launch of the Aurelia Foundation—a one-hundred-million-dollar endowment dedicated to providing free, state-of-the-art prenatal care, legal advocacy, and safe housing to underprivileged mothers across North America.
The room was filled with governors, ambassadors, global philanthropists, and leading scientists—people who valued integrity, progress, and substance over empty family pedigrees.
I stood on the private terrace overlooking the city, holding a champagne flute filled with sparkling cider.
I was wearing a breathtaking, emerald-green silk evening gown that flowed like liquid emerald around my silhouette. My hair cascaded in soft, radiant waves over my shoulders. Beside me, sitting in a velvet stroller, fourteen-month-old Aurelia was happily babbling, clapping her tiny hands together as she watched the city lights twinkle in the twilight.
“She has your smile, you know,” a familiar voice said.
I turned to see Evelyn and Arthur walking out onto the terrace. Evelyn was holding a small, silver envelope.
“Mail arrived at the corporate desk this morning,” Evelyn said, her tone cautious as she handed it to me. “Postmarked from the Federal Correctional Institution in Oxford.”
I looked down at the envelope. In the top corner, written in shaky, desperate handwriting, was the inmate registration number: *MORRISON, B. - 89201-044.*
For a brief second, I thought about opening it.
I knew what it contained without even breaking the seal. More apologies. More pathetic excuses. More hollow promises that he had found God, that prison had changed him, that he wanted to see his daughter’s face just once before he lost his youth behind bars.
I didn't hate him.
I didn't wish him harm.
I simply recognized that he had ceased to exist in our universe the moment he chose cruelty over his own blood.
I looked down at Aurelia, who giggled, reaching her tiny arms up toward me, demanding to be held.
I picked my daughter up, cradling her soft, warm weight against my heart, breathing in the sweet scent of baby powder and pure joy.
Then, without hesitation, without even looking at the envelope a second time, I leaned over the edge of the terrace and dropped the unopened letter directly into a silver recycling receptacle by the door.
Arthur smiled, raising his glass toward the Chicago skyline.
“To the future, Cassidy,” he toasted.
May you like
I lifted Aurelia higher, letting the cool, clean evening breeze brush against our faces as the city lights reflected like diamonds in her bright, curious eyes.
“To the future,” I replied, my voice strong, steady, and filled with unbroken light. “Built on truth, protected by courage, and owned entirely by us.”
