13. Sebastian
CHAPTER 13
sebastian
T he study felt suffocating with its dark wood panels and heavy curtains that blocked out the afternoon sun. I watched as Maxine traced her fingers over Carlos's mahogany desk—the one where he taught her about business plans and profit margins when she was twelve. The surface still bore the small nick from when she dropped his favorite paperweight. Now, my father stood behind it like he belonged there, his fingers drumming against a stack of legal documents.
"It's a simple decision, Maxine," my father's voice was like steel wrapped in silk. "Sign over your shares. The company needs unified leadership, not a teenager's emotional attachment." His wedding ring caught the lamplight as he pushed the papers toward her.
Maxine tightly gripped the arms of the leather chair, her father's locket resting heavy against her chest. "I'm nineteen now. The shares are legally mine." The words came out stronger than I know she felt.
"Maxine," Ciara stepped forward from where she had been hovering by the window. She touched her daughter's shoulder, and her fingers trembled. "David knows what's best for the company. Your father would want?—"
"Don't." Maxine's voice cracked. "Don't tell me what Dad would want. He left me those shares for a reason." She shrugged off her mother's touch, and I saw anger flash across Ciara's face.
"You're acting childish," my father snapped as his mask slipped, revealing his frustration underneath. He ran a hand through his graying hair and snapped, "This is business, not some sentimental keepsake. The board is expecting a unified front, and your... reluctance is causing unnecessary complications."
I chose that moment to step into the study, still in my riding clothes, dust from the stables clinging to my boots. My presence seemed to straighten Maxine's spine.
"Everything okay in here?" My eyes locked with hers, my concern evident. I had heard their raised voices from outside.
"This doesn't concern you," my father snapped, his tone sharper than he’d ever used with me.
I moved to stand beside Maxine's chair, resting my hand on its back. "Actually, it does. Carlos made me promise to look out for Maxine's interests in the company." My fingers brushed her shoulder, barely noticeable, but I hoped it grounded her. "Those shares are her inheritance, her connection to her father."
"Ciara"—my father turned to her mother, desperation creeping into his voice—"talk sense into your daughter. The merger won't go through without consolidated ownership. Everything we've worked for?—"
Ciara froze. "Sweetie, please. It would make things easier?—"
"Easier for whom?" Maxine asked as she stood, and I maintained my protective stance beside her. Her father's locket seemed to pulse against her skin. "Dad built this company from nothing. He trusted me with his legacy. He spent years teaching me every aspect of the business, preparing me for this."
"You're not capable of understanding what's at stake!" My father yelled, his face flushing with anger. "This isn't some game, Maxine. This is about securing the company's future, your mother's future!"
"She understands perfectly," I cut in, stepping slightly in front of her. "She understands that you're trying to take advantage of her grief. Using her mother’s security as emotional leverage? That's low, even for you, Dad."
The silence that followed was deafening. Ciara covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked loudly, marking each excruciating second.
"Get out." My father's face reddens further. "Both of you. If you want to throw away everything your father built, Maxine, that's on your conscience."
I watched as Maxine grabbed the documents from the desk and tore them in half with shaking hands. "These shares are mine. Dad made me promise to never let anyone pressure me into giving them up. End of discussion."
As we left the tension-filled room, I placed my hand on the small of her back, steadying her and offering my silent support as her legs threatened to give way. When the study door closed behind us, I heard Ciara's muffled voice and my father's muffled curse.
"You did the right thing," I murmured, my thumb brushing away tears she hadn't realized were falling. We stopped in the hallway, and the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, painting patterns on the floor.
"Did I?" Her voice shook. "Mom?—"
"Would understand if she wasn't so afraid of losing everything again." I turned her to face me, resting my warm hands on her shoulders. "Your dad knew exactly what he was doing when he left you those shares. Trust that. Trust him ."
She nodded before leaning into my strength. My fingers found hers and intertwined with them.
"I've got your back, Max. Whatever comes next." The intensity in her eyes made my breath catch. "We'll figure this out, together."
Standing in the sunlit hallway, my stepsister's hand in mine, I felt both terrified and oddly at peace. The battle was far from over—I could hear my father's raised voice through the study door along with Ciara's pleading—but for the first time since Carlos died, I sensed Maxine was sure of her path forward.
She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, grateful for this complicated thing between us that somehow felt like the only silver lining in the mess our parents made.