One Word: Freedom
He grabbed the document, eyes scanning quickly—then widening.
“You—You had the legal board transfer the company to you?”
“Fully. Legally. Thoroughly. My name alone is on that ownership line now. Not yours. Not his.” I gestured at my father. “This company is mine.”
His face twisted. “You ungrateful little—”
“No.” I snapped. “You don’t get to talk about gratitude. You didn’t raise me. You trained me. Like a dog. Like some weapon you could unleash when it suited you.”
My mother stepped forward. “Rowan, don’t say things you’ll regret.”
“I’ve had years to regret.” I took a shaky breath. “I regret staying silent while you punished me for things I didn’t understand. I regret not defending Remi when she cried in front of this very house because of your words. I regret letting you turn me into a monster just so I could be accepted. I see you as my parents, but no, I think we should all go back to being strangers. Grandma died and you lot didn't even care. All you care about is money. Enough money for your trips.”
My voice cracked but I held on.
“But most of all… I regret thinking I ever needed your love.”
They said nothing.
“And now you want to ‘accept’ her? You want to stand beside me and smile for the press and act like family?”
I laughed again. “Don’t bother. You’ll get your dividends, your name in the history books, your scraps from the company profits. But that’s all.”
My father’s face flushed with anger. “You…I raised you like a son…”
“No.” I cut him off. “I was your project. And I’m done playing that role.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out something small.
The Vaughn family ring. The one I’d worn since I turned eighteen. The one they said was a symbol of legacy.
I placed it on the nearest marble table.
“I’m done being a Vaughn.”
Gasps echoed in the hall. Even my grandfather stepped forward now, that smug calm finally cracking.
“You’ll regret this,” he said, voice low.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But at least I’ll be free.”
“You don’t walk away from us, Rowan. You don’t walk away from me.”
I turned.
And I walked.
Every step echoing like a war drum across the polished floor. I didn’t turn back. Not when I heard my mother whisper my name. Not when I heard my father curse under his breath. Not even when my grandfather called me a disappointment.
They could choke on their pride.
They tortured me. They tortured Remi.
They made me this way.
And now they can live with the monster they created.
As I reached the massive doors, I glanced down at my hands. Freedom
I chuckled. Would have been classic if I gave them the middle finger and walked out.
I pushed the doors open and walked into the late afternoon light.
A new name. A new life.
And maybe, just maybe… a chance to finally be the man I should’ve been all along.
I slid into the backseat of the car and let the door shut behind me. For a moment, I didn’t say a word. Just sat there, letting the silence settle. My chest was tight—not from regret, not from guilt… but something else. Relief, maybe. Or the ache that came after surviving a war.
Cedric was right—I should never stall. I finished what I needed to. Cut the cord. Closed the chapter.
I reached for my phone, about to text Jo and check on the twins, when it rang. Unknown number.
I almost declined it. Almost.
But something in me hesitated. My thumb hovered, then tapped.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Vaughn?” A woman’s voice. Soft. Professional. It was the nurse—one of Remi’s. “I apologize for calling this line, but you told us to reach you directly when there were any changes.”
I sat up straight, heart in my throat. “What happened?”
“She’s awake.”
The world went quiet.
I blinked. “What?”
“She regained consciousness fifteen minutes ago. Confused, of course, but aware. Responsive. She asked for you.”
I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched. I pressed my fist against my mouth. My heart was beating like it wanted to punch through my ribs.
“She… she asked for me?”
“Yes,” the nurse confirmed. “We’ve notified Mr. Cedric as well. But she’s stable. Talking. Asking questions.”
I didn’t remember ending the call. Didn’t remember barking at my driver to turn around.
All I knew was that I was moving.
That the woman I loved—the one I nearly lost, the one I betrayed, the one I fought for even when I thought I didn’t deserve her—
She was awake.
And she asked for me.
I leaned my head back against the seat. My hand was shaking as I ran it over my face.
I didn’t cry. Not yet. But something inside me cracked.
All the rage. The pain. The endless nights. It didn’t feel
wasted now.
She was still here.
Still breathing.
Still mine.
And this time, I wasn’t going to let her go.
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