(Yvette's POV)
The car stopped in front of the gates just past midnight.
I stared out the window as they slowly opened, revealing a quiet estate tucked away from the city's noise. The manor before me was elegant but modest compared to the Hamilton main house—two stories, warm lights glowing softly behind tall windows, a small garden trimmed neatly along the path.
It was… enough.
For one person, it was more than enough.
"Ms. Hamilton, we've arrived," the driver said respectfully.
"Thank you," I replied as I stepped out.
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp grass. As the car pulled away, the silence wrapped around me fully.
No footsteps behind me.
No familiar presence at my side.
Just me.
I took a deep breath and walked inside.
The interior was clean and tastefully furnished, clearly prepared in advance. The living room was spacious but not overwhelming, the furniture arranged neatly, as though waiting for someone to claim it as their own.
I placed my suitcase down and looked around slowly.
In my previous life, I had lived in luxury greater than this—grand halls, countless servants, endless rooms that echoed with emptiness.
This place felt different.
Smaller… warmer.
Lonelier.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked toward the kitchen.
The lights flicked on with a soft hum. The counters were pristine, the appliances new. Everything was ready for use, yet untouched.
I tied my hair back instinctively.
I should eat something.
I opened the fridge and found it stocked thoughtfully—fresh vegetables, eggs, milk, even baking ingredients.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"Brent is thorough as always," I murmured.
I decided on something simple.
As I moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and heating the pan, a strange calm settled over me. The familiar motions soothed my nerves, grounding me in the present.
When the food was done, I carried the plate to the dining table.
Only one place setting.
I sat down slowly.
In my past life, meals had been quiet affairs too—large tables, opposite seats occupied by someone who barely looked up from his phone.
This time, the emptiness felt different.
It hurt… but it didn't suffocate me.
I ate slowly, savoring each bite.
When I finished, I cleaned up immediately, refusing to let the silence grow heavy. I walked upstairs and entered the bedroom prepared for me.
The room was simple.
Neutral colors. A large bed. A window overlooking the garden.
I placed my suitcase down and sat on the edge of the bed.
Only then did the weight of the day truly sink in.
My phone buzzed softly beside me.
A message notification.
I didn't need to open it to know who it was from.
Joseph.
My fingers hovered over the screen.
For a moment, my heart wavered.
If I read it…
I clenched my hand and turned the phone face down.
"Not tonight," I whispered.
I walked to the window and pulled the curtains aside.
The garden lights illuminated the path below, casting gentle shadows across the grass. The night was peaceful—too peaceful.
"I did the right thing," I told myself.
Even if my chest ached.
Even if I missed him.
I lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
No footsteps approaching.
No voice calling my name.
No presence beside me.
Just silence.
But for the first time since my rebirth, that silence did not feel like abandonment.
It felt like a beginning.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, I would start over.
My day began before sunrise.
I stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a tailored cream suit, my hair neatly tied back. The woman staring back at me looked composed—calm, even.
But beneath that calm was a storm of nerves.
This is not the Hamilton manor, I reminded myself.
This is my battlefield.
The car ride to the headquarters passed in silence. As the towering glass building came into view, my heart began to pound harder.
Hamilton Hotels Incorporated.
In my past life, I had entered this building countless times—but always as Joseph's wife, always a step behind him.
Today was different.
Today, I was here as its owner.
The elevator doors opened to the executive floor, and Brent was already waiting for me.
"You're early," he said with a small smile.
"I didn't sleep much," I replied honestly.
"That's expected," he said gently. "But you'll do fine. Just remember—this board is not here to intimidate you. They're here to test you."
I nodded.
"Let's get this over with."
The boardroom doors opened.
Conversations halted instantly.
All eyes turned toward me.
The long table was already filled—directors in sharp suits, seasoned executives, faces that had shaped this company long before I was born.
Brent stepped forward first.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said clearly, "thank you for assembling on such short notice."
The room quieted.
"As you are all aware," he continued, "Mr. Hamilton's will has been legally validated. Today, I formally introduce to you the acting Chairwoman and majority shareholder of Hamilton Hotels Incorporated—Ms. Yvette Hamilton."
A wave of murmurs swept through the room.
I stepped forward.
Every gaze weighed on me—curious, skeptical, calculating.
I bowed slightly.
"Good morning," I said calmly. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."
Silence followed.
Then a man seated near the head of the table cleared his throat.
"With all due respect," he said, "Ms. Hamilton, many of us are concerned about your age and experience."
I expected this.
"I understand your concerns," I replied without hesitation. "I do not claim to be the most experienced person in this room. That is why I am here to listen, learn, and work with you."
Some faces softened. Others remained guarded.
"I will not make reckless decisions," I continued. "Nor will I disrupt existing operations without cause. What I ask in return is time—and transparency."
Brent watched me closely.
The tension eased slightly.
The meeting proceeded swiftly after that—financial briefings, operational updates, future projections. I listened intently, asking questions when necessary, noting names and positions carefully.
By the time the meeting adjourned, my head was pounding.
But there was no time to rest.
Next came introductions.
Brent escorted me through the executive floors, from department heads to senior managers. Handshakes blurred together, names piled upon names.
"This is Ms. Hamilton."
"Our new chairwoman."
"The owner."
Each title felt unreal.
I smiled until my cheeks hurt.
By midday, I had visited three floors, attended two internal meetings, and reviewed documents thicker than textbooks.
"This is only the first half of the day," Brent said as we stepped into the elevator.
I let out a quiet laugh.
"I see why my father rarely came home early."
Brent chuckled. "He admired your stamina. I see why."
The final stop was the hospitality training floor.
As we walked past staff members practicing service protocols, I noticed how different this felt compared to the boardroom.
This was where the heart of the business lived.
A young employee recognized me and froze.
"Y-Young madam!" she exclaimed.
I smiled gently. "Please, just call me Yvette."
Her eyes shone with surprise—and relief.
Something warm stirred in my chest.
By the time the day finally ended, exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders.
As I returned to my office, Brent handed me a tablet.
"You handled today well," he said. "Better than many would."
"Thank you," I replied sincerely.
As I sat down, my phone buzzed again.
A message notification.
Joseph.
I stared at the screen for a moment… then locked it.
"One step at a time," I whispered.
Outside the glass windows, the city stretched endlessly.
And for the first time—
I was standing at the center of it.