Leo was sprawled leisurely on the couch in Harry's office, reading a fashion magazine like it was a corporate memo and drinking wine. He looked up just in time to see Harry walk in.
"You look like a man who just executed a flawless coup d'état," Leo smirked.
Harry didn't smile, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
"I dealt a blow to my uncle," he said.
"About time. The guy was starting to bite more than he can chew. Just because he has the old Patriarch's support, he became so brazen," Darwin snorted, popping a grape into his mouth. "So, what now? Press? Stockholder statement? Champagne?"
Harry shook his head. "I want to see Ana."
Leo grinned. "Ah, there it is. You just saved Fairchild Corporations, and all you want is to stare at your fine little lady."
"She's not just a girl," Harry said quietly.
Leo raised a brow. "Then take her out. Be less of a statue around her. You know—loosen up. Smile more. Pretend you're human."
"I don't pretend."
"Then let me be your dating coach. We'll start with the basics. Tonight, casual look. No suits. No brooding. And surprise her with something that reminds her of home."
Harry hesitated. "Something like what?"
Darwin's eyes lit up. "Take her out on a date. To a place she loves. Girls love nostalgia."
By the Pond, Late Afternoon
Ana sat quietly by the pond, tossing crumbs to the ducks that waddled eagerly toward her. The sun danced on the water's surface, but her heart felt dull.
She had been in this gilded cage for months. The estate was beautiful, yes—but she hadn't taken a step outside. Her soul longed for the bustling street vendors, the breeze on her face, the comforting chatter of her family.
She felt especially down after her unpleasant encounter with Kimberly. Her heart felt heavy with sadness.
She didn't hear him approach.
Harry sat down beside her, quiet as a shadow.
Ana turned her head and gasped softly. "When did you come?"
"Just now. You were too distracted to notice me."
He watched her in silence, noticing the clouded look in her eyes.
"What's going on with you?" he asked gently, lifting her chin.
Ana tried to smile but failed. "It's nothing. I just... miss my family."
Harry looked into her eyes for a long moment. "I'm here with you, aren't I?... Or am I not enough?"
Ana's heart fluttered. "You... you are enough but..."
Before she could finish, Harry leaned in and kissed her. Soft, careful at first until desire pulled him deeper. His lips explored hers, tasting her sadness and her longing. Ana was stunned, her heart racing, her face flushing red.
Her breath caught.
It was a gentle kiss at first, tentative and filled with emotions he had suppressed for far too long. Her lips were softer than he had imagined. As his hands reached to draw her closer, his tongue slipped into her mouth, deepening the kiss. He savored her taste, as if she were the sweetest thing he'd ever known.
Ana's senses spun. She had never been kissed like this before. It felt like she was melting, drowning, and yet... floating.
She responded slowly, tentatively, her lips moving with his.
By the time he finally pulled away, she was breathless. Harry chuckled softly at the sight of her dazed expression and flushed cheeks.
"You're blushing," he murmured.
Ana quickly looked away, her face a bright shade of red. She barely had time to recover before he spoke again.
Harry smiled at her gently. "Will you go somewhere with me tonight?"
"Where?" she asked, still dazed.
"It's a surprise," he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose.
Later That Night
Ana walked out, wearing a soft yellow floral dress. Her lush curls bounced around her shoulders as she walked out to meet him.
Harry leaned against the car, dressed in a black t-shirt and designer jeans—casual, simple, but so painfully attractive that Ana froze in place. She has never seen him in anything other than suits and was mesmerized.
He smiled when he saw the way she looked at him. "You're staring," he teased.
"You... look different."
"Good different?"
She nodded, cheeks burning.
Harry caught the look in her eyes and smiled inwardly. So Leo was right, he thought. His friend had insisted that dressing casually would make him appear more relatable. At first, he'd dismissed the advice, but seeing Ana's gaze now, he knew it had worked.
"Hurry up. We're running late," he said, opening the car door for her.
Inside the car, Ana rolled down the window and breathed in the night air, giddy like a child. Harry watched her with amusement and smiled to himself. He had never seen someone so happy over something so simple and he adored her for it.
When they reached their destination, Ana gasped in disbelief. Before her stood the glowing arches of the Ferry Night Amusement Park, its lights twinkling like stars against the night sky. She gasped. "No way…"
It was her favorite place. A magical festival held once a year, filled with games, food stalls, laughter, and memories. Her family used to come every year.
Harry stepped beside her. "You said you missed your family," he said gently. "So I brought you to see them."
Tears welled in Ana's eyes.
She turned and threw her arms around him. "Thank you... thank you so much," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. She kissed his cheek.
She turned to Harry with tears in her eyes.
"You said you missed your family... so I brought you to see them."
Ana's heart cracked open. She flung her arms around him. "Thank you... thank you so much."
Harry looked down at her fondly and whispered, "Anything for you."
Bruce stormed into his mansion, slamming the door behind him. Fury simmered in his chest, his mind replaying every humiliating second of his dismissal from the Fairchild business.
He had clawed his way to the top, sacrificed friendships, morals, and peace of mind for that seat at the table and now, with a snap of Harry Fairchild's fingers, it had all been ripped away.
He yanked off his tie, his hands trembling with rage and fear. What if his father found out? What if he demanded back the shares he'd handed over years ago?
Lucille, his wife of nearly two decades, emerged from the sitting room, a silk robe tied loosely around her waist and a glass of red wine in hand. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed her husband's volatile expression.
"What happened?" she asked coolly, though her voice held an undercurrent of concern.
Bruce didn't answer immediately. He poured himself a drink with trembling hands, then downed it in a single gulp. He finally spoke, voice strained. "Harry....he threw me out. Cut me off like I was some disposable employee. After everything I've done for that damn business."
Lucille blinked, then walked over and gently took the glass from his hand before he could pour another. "What do you mean he threw you out?" she asked sharply.
Bruce's jaw tightened. "He found out about the forged documents. Accused me of manipulating financial records and acting in bad faith. He didn't even give me a chance to explain."
Lucille's face hardened. She placed the glass on the table and took his hands into hers, gripping them tightly. "You mean he found out… already?" Her voice faltered just slightly.
Bruce nodded bitterly. "It's all ruined, Lucille. If his father gets wind of this, he'll reclaim the shares he handed to me. I could lose everything."
Lucille pulled him down to sit beside her on the velvet couch. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, her tone soothing yet dangerous. "No, you won't. We won't. You built that empire with your sweat and blood. He's just a boy playing king in a suit."
Bruce gave a dry laugh. "He's not just a boy. He's Nuria Fairchild's grandson and now that he has control, he's starting to act just like her."
"Then we fight smarter," Lucille said, brushing her fingers through his graying hair. "We've come too far to be pushed aside like second-class citizens. They want war? Fine. But we'll play the long game."
Her eyes gleamed with quiet calculation. "We'll dig into every one of Harry's secrets. Every weakness, every skeleton in his closet. We'll take it all back, Bruce. Not just what he took from you—but more."
Bruce looked at her with a mixture of admiration and doubt. "You think we still have a chance?"
Lucille leaned in, her voice low and firm. "I know we do. Because people like us don't lose, darling. Not when we've sacrificed this much."
Their moment was interrupted by the sound of movement on the staircase. Chase, their teenage son, had paused halfway down the stairs. He had heard enough, too much. His tired eyes watched the scene in silence, the coldness of the mansion pressing in on him like a weight.
He turned and retreated without a word. He had grown up in a house filled with schemes and ambition. Love had always taken a backseat to power. As always, his parents were plotting their next move together, yet never truly as a family.