[Levi POV - Auclair Family Hospital]
The car screeched to a stop in front of the private wing of Auclair Family Hospital.
I didn't wait.
I was out the door before the driver could even put the brake in place. My shoes hit the pavement hard as I made my way through the automatic doors.
The nurses at the front desk looked up immediately. They knew who I was, of course.
All I gave them was a nod.
No questions. No greetings.
They knew where I was going. And I know exactly which room.
Room 910. Top floor. Private suite.
Each second in that elevator felt like a lifetime. My reflection in the metal walls looked tired — eyes dark, lips pressed into a hard line. I looked like someone bracing for grief.
Please... not tonight.
The door slid open with a quiet ding.
Room 910 was at the end of the hall.
I walked faster. Then faster.
My fingers were already curled around the handle before I could fully prepare myself.
And then I opened the door.
The room was softly lit. Warm. Calm.
And sitting upright against the stack of pillows, an IV in his arm, was the man I thought I was about to lose.
My grandfather.
Awake. Alive. And very much looking at me.
He blinked slowly. "You're late."
I froze in the doorway. For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then I stepped in slowly as the nurse nearby adjusted the monitor and quietly stepped out to give us privacy.
"You're awake." I said, my voice catching somewhere in the middle.
"Apparently." He rasped, his voice dry but intact. "And you look like hell."
I let out a breath. Half a laugh, half a sob. My throat was tight, but my chest was finally loosened.
"I thought…" I stopped myself and stood down beside him. "Never mind what I thought."
My grandfather chuckled weakly. "I'm sorry, Levi. I didn't mean to make you panic. I just don't want anyone to know that I'm awake. Not yet."
"But why?" I asked, brows raising.
He looked at me carefully, studying every detail of my expression.
"I saw the article." He said. "The engagement. The merger. All of it."
Of course he had.
His tone shifted. Softer, though still carrying the weight of a man who had survived wars, both on the battlefields and in the boardrooms.
"I'd be lying," he said, "if I told you I didn't want you to be the next heir. You're brilliant. You're sharper than your father and far more principled. I always believe in you."
I stayed silent, my fingers gripping the armrests.
"But your mother," he continued, his voice now gentler, "she always said something I didn't take seriously until now."
He looked me in the eyes.
"She said, 'Let him choose his own path. Even if it's not the one we planned for him. Because if he's not happy, all this means nothing.'"
He paused, watching my reaction.
"And now," he said, "I feel the same."
I blinked, barely breathing.
"I'm giving you most of my shares," he said simply. "How you use them is up to you. Build. Burn. Rebuild. I trust your judgement."
The weight of those words dropped into me like a stone deep in water.
"And that's not all," he added.
I looked at him, uncertain.
He exhaled, the sound low and tired but steady.
"Your mother… she left something in place years ago. A provision through her lawyer, which is also my lawyer, Hermann." He glanced at the door. "He's already been called. You'll meet him soon."
"What provision?"
He met my gaze again.
"She wanted you to inherit Ackerman Fashion, her very own company, to begin with. Quietly kept alive under the group's shell after she passed. When you turned thirty… it would be yours."
My eyes widened slightly. "That's this year."
"Exactly," he said. "She said she wanted it to be your decision. Not a forced legacy. A gift for the son she adored."
I swallowed hard.
"I never knew." I said, my voice barely audible.
"That's why I'm here." Said a familiar voice from the doorway.
I turned.
It was Madam Auclair, Haruka's mother. But more than that, she was my mother's best friend. She stepped into the room, her presence composed as always, but her eyes softer than I remembered. She held something in her hands. A small, worn notebook. Leather-bound, the edges weathered with age and care.
"Madam Auclair. About the engagement and Haruka…."
"It's okay, Levi. I know that's not your fault, and I believe in you. That's why I'm here. Here. Your mother left this for you." She said gently, placing the notebook in my hands. "She said to give this to you when the time was right."
I blinked down at it. My fingers tracing the familiar curves of her handwriting across the first page. My heart felt like it had stopped.
"Why did she leave it with you?" I asked, almost accusingly. "Why not my grandfather?"
Haruka's mother met my eyes without flinching.
"Because Kuchel knew exactly what your father was like. She didn't want this… falling into the wrong hands. So, keeping this outside the Ackerman territory was the best option, and your grandfather agreed."
My hands trembled slightly as I opened it.
Pages and pages of designs, her vision, her sketches, fabrics she dreamed of, thoughts she never shared out loud. All of it is preserved here.
And in the middle of the book, tucked neatly like a final breath, was a sealed envelope.
Written across it:
"To my beloved Schatz, Levi."
The room disappeared around me.
I sat down slowly, opening the letter.
My little one,
If you're reading this, then you've reached the age I once dreamed of watching you grow into. Thirty. My heart aches to imagine it. What you look like, how you move, how you speak. I bet your voice is calm and sharp, just like your grandfather's. But your heart… your heart is mine.
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry I couldn't stay longer. There's not a single day that passes where I don't wish I could have held you one more time. Watched you take your first steps. Watched you chase dreams. But life… life wasn't kind to me.
And to you, my schatz, it demanded too much.
I know your father made things harder. I saw it in his eyes even before I left. The way he looked at you. Not for who you were, but for what you reminded him of. Me.
You carry my face. My fire. My talent. And for that, he punished you.
I'm sorry you had to grow up feeling like love was something you had to earn.
But hear me now, you were always loved.
Before you took your first breath. Before you opened your eyes. You were everything to me.
If the world tried to make you into something hard and sharp, I hope this letter reminds you of the softness you're allowed to have. You don't need to carry the weight of this family on your back just to prove your worth. You've always been enough.
And this book, these designs and this dream… it's yours now.
Not because you have to carry on my legacy.
But because I want you to have something that's truly yours. Something born from love.
Whether you build a fashion empire, or burn it all down to start something new, I trust you.
I trust the man you've become.
And I hope that no matter how cold the world has been to you, you've found at least one person who sees you. Really see you. Someone who makes you feel safe, and warm, and loved.
If you have that person… hold on.
Don't let them go.
And if you don't… don't be afraid to fight for them.
You deserve to be chosen, too.
Take care, my schatz. I will always love you.
Always with you,
Your mother,
Kuchel Laurent Ackerman.
My fingers tightened around the letter as I read the final words. The ink blurred slightly. Not from the age, but from the tears I didn't bother to hide.
I could barely breathe.
A slow ache settled behind my ribs. Not from pain this time, but from the sudden, unfamiliar weight of being seen. Of being loved. Not for what I could become or what I could fix… but for simply existing.
She'd known.
My mother had known the life I would walk into. The coldness I'd have to survive. The mask I'd wear. And she'd left behind something that might anchor me when I forgot who I was.
A legacy. Not one forged in boardrooms or power plays, but in quiet care and trust.
And now… that trust was in my hand.
I closed the notebook with care, like something sacred, and held it against my chest for a moment like it might still carry her warmth.
I hadn't realised the tears had stopped. My breathing was slower now. Measured. Like the storm inside me had lost its edge.
That's when I felt a movement beside me.
My grandfather's hand reached out, frail but certain, and rested on my arm.
"I can't change what your father did," my grandfather said, voice steady despite his age. "But I can give you the power to rise above it. And you have your mother's legacy too."
I looked at him, jaw clenched.
"What if I want to use it to tear everything he built down?"
His eyes sparkled faintly, not with condemnation, but with the soft mischief of someone who had once wanted the same.
"Then burn it, Levi," he said. "And build something better."
I stared at him. Not with defiance, not with disbelief.
But with the quiet stillness that comes after you've hit rock bottom… and finally found a ladder.
Piece by piece, the walls I'd spent years fortifying began to crumble. Not from force, but from the realisation that I didn't need them anymore.
And for the first time in weeks…
I felt the ground beneath me again.
//SKIP//
The air outside my grandfather's room was quiet. Dimmed lights, quiet footsteps, distant echoes from other wards.
I stood just outside the door, letting everything he'd told me sink in. The shares. The company. The trust. The words still echoed in my head like a second heartbeat.
Burn it. And build something better.
I hadn't expected him to say that. Not him.
But before I could think about what to do next, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Levi."
I turned and saw him. Hanaka Chris Auclair, Haruka's older brother. Dressed in hospital scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck, sleeves rolled just past the elbows.
He looked tired, but sharper than anyone in this building. The kind of man who saw too much, stayed quiet, and held the world together in silence.
"I heard you came straight here," Chris said, voice even but not unkind. "How is he?"
"He woke up," I said. "Lucid. Stronger than I expected."
Chris nodded once. "Well, he said not to tell you that he's awake."
"Hah. I thought I was going to lose him at that moment." I said with a flat voice.
He paused for a moment, then stepped a little closer.
"Come with me. Just for a moment."
We walked down the corridor to an empty consultation room. He closed the door behind us and leaned against the counter. I stood with my arms crossed, unsure what he wanted to say until he met my gaze directly.
"Charles is staying at my place."
I blinked.
"He didn't want you to know," he continued. "He told me not to tell you. But… I think you should know."
The ache in my chest tightened again. "Is he okay?"
Chris's lips pressed together.
"Ray's with him. Guarding him 24/7, like clockwork. He's not in any danger, physically. But emotionally…" He exhaled. "You know how he is. He doesn't cry in front of just anyone."
"I know." I murmured. "I saw it once."
Chris nodded faintly.
"For now," he said gently, "I think it's best to let him be alone. Give him space. He's trying to breathe, Levi. Trying to hold himself together without falling apart."
I didn't reply. Because he was right.
Then Chris stepped forward, just slightly. His tone is softer now, brotherly, human.
"But let me tell you something," he said. "He loves you. Deeply. In a way I've never seen before."
My eyes met his.
"He's never loved someone like that before, Levi. Not like this. So what is he feeling now? It's more than just heartbreak. It's betrayal, and not because you betrayed him… but because he trusted you so completely."
My throat tightened.
"And I know you love him too, Levi. It's obvious to everyone. Even when you try to hide it."
Silence fell between us. Chris looked down, then back up again.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do. That's not my place. But I hope, when he's ready… you'll be the one who shows up for him. Not with excuses. Not with guilt."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to feel personal.
"Come back to him with truth, Levi. Come back to claim him, not just because you miss him… but because you're ready to fight for him."
I nodded, jaw tight.
Because that was exactly what I planned to do.
When the time was right… I'd be there.
And this time, I wouldn't let go.
TO BE CONTINUED!!!