Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 13.5 ⊱ Family Ties

**Cade** [

The leather chair creaks softly as I lean back, my eyes scanning the faces of the board members seated around the long mahogany table. A month has passed since the accident, a month of sleepless nights and tense days, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But there's been nothing but silence from my father.

Now, as I sit in this boardroom, the empty chair at the head of the table looms large. David Sinclair's absence is a palpable thing, filling the room with unasked questions and uneasy glances.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I begin, my voice steady despite the knot of tension in my gut, "I think we all know why we're here today."

There's a murmur of agreement, a shuffling of papers. I can see the mix of emotions on their faces-concern, curiosity, and in some, barely concealed ambition.

"My father's... absence... has left a void in the leadership of Sinclair Enterprises," I continue, choosing my words carefully. "A void that needs to be filled if we're to move forward."

I lay out the situation as diplomatically as I can, outlining the challenges we face and the opportunities that lie ahead. As I speak, I can see the shift in the room, the way they lean in, listening intently. They're not just hearing my words; they're assessing me, weighing my worth against the legend of David Sinclair.

"Any questions before we proceed?" I ask, bracing myself for what's to come.

Harold Jameson, one of the oldest board members and a longtime friend of my father's, is the first to speak up. "Cade, while we appreciate your... enthusiasm, are we certain this is the right move? Your father has led this company for decades. Perhaps we should wait and see if this is truly a permanent absence."

I can feel the room holding its breath, waiting for my response. This is the moment-sink or swim.

"With all due respect, Mr. Jameson," I say, meeting his gaze steadily, "we can't afford to wait. Every day we delay making a decision is a day our competitors gain ground. My father taught me the importance of decisive action, and that's what I'm proposing today."

Jameson nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer, but I can see the doubt lingering in his eyes.

Next up is Sarah Chen, head of our R&D department. "Cade, what's your vision for the company moving forward? Are you planning to maintain your father's strategies, or do you have changes in mind?"

I lean forward, my hands clasped on the table. "Excellent question, Sarah. While I have immense respect for the foundation my father built, I believe it's time for Sinclair Enterprises to evolve. I have plans to expand our focus on sustainable technologies and increase our investments in AI research. I believe these are the areas that will define the next decade of tech innovation."

My response seems to spark interest around the table. I can see nods of approval, particularly from the younger board members.

The questions keep coming, each one more probing than the last. They ask about my experience, my leadership style, my plans for international expansion. I answer each one head-on, drawing on years of preparation and the newfound strength I've discovered in the wake of recent events.

As the discussion winds down, I can feel the energy in the room shifting. There's a sense of anticipation, of possibility.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the vote is called. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife as each board member casts their ballot. I keep my face neutral, even as my heart pounds in my chest.

When the results are tallied, there's a moment of silence that seems to stretch on forever. Then, the chairman clears his throat. *This is it.*

"By a vote of 8 to 3, the board has decided to appoint Cade Sinclair as the new CEO of Sinclair Enterprises, effective immediately." The relief that washes over me is almost physical, but I don't let it show. Instead, I stand, buttoning my jacket as I do.

"Thank you for your trust," I say, my voice firm and confident. "I won't let you down. Now, let's get to work. We have a company to run."

As the meeting adjourns, a rush of emotions I can't quite name wash over me. Pride, certainty, at having earned the board's trust. Relief that this hurdle has been cleared. But underlying it all is a nagging sense of unfinished business. I'm shaking hands with the last of the board members when James bursts into the room, his face flushed with excitement. "Cade, you need to see this," he says, thrusting an iPad into my hands.

The screen shows a live news feed, and what I see makes my breath catch in my throat. FBI agents are swarming my father's mansion, their blue jackets a stark contrast against the white stone facade. And there, being led out in handcuffs, is David Sinclair himself.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. I watch as my father, the man who's loomed larger than life for as long as I can remember, is reduced to just another criminal being hauled away. His face is a mask of cold fury, but I can see the flicker of fear in his eyes. It's an expression I've never seen on him before, and it sends a chill down my spine.

The ticker at the bottom of the screen scrolls by: "FBI raid tech mogul David Sinclair's home. Arrested on charges of tax evasion and conspiracy."

I look up at James, seeing my own thoughts reflected in his eyes.

*Will it be enough? Can the law really contain a man like him?*

With a slight nod, I gesture for James to follow me. We make our way through the corridors of Sinclair Enterprises, employees stopping to stare as we pass. News travels fast in this building, and I can already hear the whispers starting. Finally, we reach my father's office-*my* office now, I suppose. I pause for a moment, my hand on the door handle, before pushing it open.

The room is exactly as it was the last time I was here, all dark wood and leather, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. It's a room to intimidate, to project power. My father's presence liners here, in every carefully chosen piece of art, every meticulously arranged trophy.

I move behind the massive mahogany desk, running my fingers along its polished surface. This is what I've worked all my life for, what I've dreamed of. *Why does it feel so hollow?*

"What do you need me to do?" James asks, breaking the silence.

I turn to face him, my oldest friend, my most trusted ally. In his eyes, I see the same determination I feel burning in my chest. He knows, as I do, that this isn't over.

"We need to make sure he stays buried," I say, my voice low and hard. "The FBI might have him now, but my father has always found a way to slither out of trouble. We can't let that happen this time."

James nods, his expression grim. "I've got some contacts in the DA's office. I could reach out, see what kind of case they're building."

"Do it," I say. "And James? We need to go through everything. Every file, every contract, every damn Post-it note in this office. If there's anything my father left behind that could hurt the company-or my family-we need to replace it first." "Consider it done," James replies. He hesitates for a moment, then adds, "Cade... how far are we willing to go here?"

It's a loaded question, one that makes me pause.

*How far am I willing to go to protect what's mine? To ensure that my father can never threaten my family again?*

I think of Elysian, still recovering from the accident. Of Naomi, so small and vulnerable in her hospital bed. Of Maisie, the sister I've never known, another innocent caught in David Sinclair's web of lies.

"As far as we need to," I say finally, meeting James' gaze. "Whatever it takes."

James nods, a look of understanding passing between us. He turns to leave, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. "There's one more thing," I say. "I need you to look into someone for me. A girl named Maisie Seo, Elysian's cousin."

James arches a brow, curiosity sparking his eyes. But to his credit, he doesn't ask for details. "I'll get right on it," he says.

As James turns to leave, I replace my mind wandering to Maisie. My sister. The thought still feels strange, almost surreal. I picture a young woman with Elysian's dark hair and my father's sharp eyes, living a life completely unaware of her true heritage. Does she have any of his mannerisms? His drive? Or has she been spared that particular inheritance?

A wave of protectiveness washes over me. Maisie may be a stranger to me, but she's family. And if there's one thing I've learned from all of this, it's the importance of protecting your own.

As the door closes behind him, I'm left alone in the cavernous office. I move to the windows, looking out over the city my father once ruled. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, but I barely notice the beauty. My mind is racing, planning our next moves. The board meeting and FBI raid were just the opening salvos in what's sure to be a long and brutal war. David Sinclair won't go down without a fight, and I need to be ready.

I pull out my phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing a number I've never used before. It rings three times before a gruff voice answers.

"Yeah?"

"It's Cade Sinclair," I say. "I need your help with something... off the books."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, then a low chuckle. "Well, well. Didn't think I'd be hearing from you so soon. What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?"

I take a deep breath, knowing that once I say these words, there's no going back. But the image of Elysian and Naomi in that hospital room steels my resolve. *I have to protect my family, no matter the cost.*