As the meeting moved on, Joel remained quiet, eyes dark, the quiet sting of defeat settling deep in his chest.
Joel stormed out of the boardroom, his fists clenched and his steps sharp against the marble floor of the Andersons Group hallway. Regina followed close behind, heels clicking with a purpose, her jaw set tight.
Outside the glass doors, Joel finally stopped, breathing heavily. His tie felt tighter than usual.
"Does he think he still owns this company?" he hissed under his breath. "Just because of a few shares and the name Anderson?"
Regina exhaled sharply, folding her arms. "Let him enjoy his little victory."
Joel turned to her, his eyes burning. "We had the votes, Regina. We had the edge."
"But not the presence," she muttered bitterly. "He walks in and they all bend."
Joel kicked lightly at the edge of the pillar, his mind racing. "I've worked for this. I've handled the logistics, the future. They still look at him like he's the heart of this place."
Regina's lips curled into a cold smile. "Let him have the heart. We'll take the bones. Quietly."
He glanced at her.
Regina continued, voice low and smooth, "We're still in control of the finances. The long-term strategy. We'll get a few administrators on our side… it's just a matter of timing. And trust me—loyalty shifts faster than you think when power changes hands."
Joel's expression softened, replacing fury with a calculated calm.
"You're right," he said finally. "We play slow. Smart."
Regina leaned in slightly. "And next time, we make sure Canary doesn't have the chance to speak first."
Joel smirked, running a hand through his hair. "We'll make sure he doesn't speak at all."
They exchanged a knowing glance — not a hint of defeat between them now. Just quiet resolve.
The game wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
__
Canary stepped out of the boardroom into the sunlit hallway and was immediately greeted by the warm, familiar face of his mother.
Lucy stood waiting, her arms folded and a soft, proud smile lifting her cheeks. "You handled that well," she said, eyes glinting. "Your father would be proud."
Canary gave a small smile, almost boyish in its warmth. "I didn't say anything new. Just what needed to be said."
Before Lucy could reply, a voice broke through the moment.
"Well, well… it's been too long, Madam Lucy ."
They both turned.
Regina approached gracefully, her figure sharp in a pastel suit, her expression lined with a carefully painted smile. Her eyes flicked between mother and son.
Lucy blinked, surprised. "Regina. It really has been long. I barely recognized you. You've changed."
"I hope for the better," Regina said sweetly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "And… I wanted to apologize. My proposal in there it wasn't the best direction. Canary made the better call."
Lucy studied her quietly for a second, then gave a small approving nod. "I'm glad you can admit that. Anderson's was built with heart and purpose. Not trends."
Regina smiled, just the right amount of humble. "Exactly. I see that now."
Canary, standing between them, said nothing. He glanced briefly at Regina, unreadable as always, then looked to his mother. "I'll leave you two to talk."
He gave Lucy a small kiss on the cheek and nodded politely at Regina before walking off without another word.
As his footsteps faded, Regina turned back to Lucy. "If you wouldn't mind… I'd love to have a coffee with you. Just to catch up."
Lucy, slightly cautious but always warm-hearted, smiled politely. "Alright. Let's go to the lounge. I have a few minutes."
___
Inside the quiet, warmly lit Andersons lounge, a server gently placed two steaming cups of coffee before the women. Lucy offered a polite nod of thanks, then looked across the table at Regina, her hands folded around her cup.
"So," Lucy said, voice soft but clear, "why did you really ask me to coffee?"
Regina paused, stirring her coffee unnecessarily before speaking.
"I wanted to say something that's long overdue," she began, eyes lowered, tone carefully fragile. "About the video… the one that almost cost Canary everything."
Lucy's eyes didn't move, but the softness in them faded slightly. "That's already in the past," she replied calmly. "And I know very well Joel was behind it."
Regina sighed, nodding. "Yes. He was. But I was part of it, too—at least the face in it. And I said horrible things… because I was hurt. Truly hurt."
Lucy raised an eyebrow but said nothing, giving her space to continue.
"I know what it looked like," Regina went on, voice trembling slightly, "but it wasn't about revenge. It was pain, Lucy. I loved Canary. So deeply. But he slept with my sister. Camilla. That shattered me."
Lucy's eyes narrowed just a touch.
"I know he's your son," Regina added quickly, "and I'm not trying to cause drama. I just… I want you to understand. I lashed out. I said things I regret. But I'm sorry. Truly. I've never had a chance to say it."
Lucy sipped her coffee slowly. "And now that you've said it, what do you want, Regina?"
Regina blinked. "Nothing. Just forgiveness. I don't want you or Canary to hate me. I may be Joel's adviser now, but I know what he's doing is wrong. That's not who I am anymore."
There was a pause.
Lucy set her cup down gently. Her tone remained soft, but now carried something steelier underneath.
"Regina, heartbreak never justifies cruelty. And as for forgiveness—" she leaned in slightly, "—that's not mine to grant. You hurt my son, and if you're sincere, you'll show it not by words over coffee, but by your actions going forward."
Regina nodded slowly, holding her posture, but the tightness in her jaw betrayed her discomfort.
Lucy gave her a small, polite smile. "Now, drink your coffee. It's best when it's warm."
Regina gently set her cup down, her eyes slightly misty, the edge of vulnerability sharpening her words.
"I would have asked Canary to forgive me myself…" she said, voice low. "But he never gives me a chance, Lucy. He won't talk to me. He avoids me like I never existed. Maybe it's because he's in a serious relationship with Lisa now."
At that, Lucy blinked.
She hadn't exactly forgotten Lisa — but the mention of her, suddenly wrapped in the context of a serious relationship, made her pause. It was the first time she truly felt what it meant — her son was no longer just playing around. He was committed. Invested.
There was a momentary stillness between them, as if Lucy were running through a dozen thoughts in silence.
But then she gently shook it off.
"Well," Lucy said carefully, her voice returning to its calm, composed rhythm, "then you must find a way, Regina. If you truly feel regret, don't stop trying."
Regina smiled slowly, lacing her fingers together. "Thank you, Lucy. Thank you for understanding me, even just a little."
Lucy nodded, but her eyes had grown quieter now. More thoughtful.
She reached for her cup again. "Just make sure that your intentions stay as honest as they sound. If you're doing this for redemption, I hope you find it. But if you're doing it for another reason…"
Regina's smile twitched faintly.
"…then you won't like what happens when a mother starts protecting her son," Lucy finished softly.
Regina lowered her gaze slightly, lips pressed together, nodding with a faint swallow.
The warmth between them was now delicate, like a fragile thread unbroken, but thin enough to feel the pull.