The door to the VIP hospital suite creaked open as Alexandra stepped inside, her movements slow, heavy with sorrow. The light from the window stretched across the floor, catching the pale blue of her father's blanket. Machines beeped quietly in the background—steady, but fragile—a sound she couldn't tune out anymore.
Without a word, she moved to the side of the bed, lowering herself into the chair. Her father's hand lay open on the edge of the sheet. She reached out and gently cupped it with both of hers, bringing it close to her chest.
Her tears came then—silently, without force, as if she no longer had the energy to keep them in.
And all the while, the conversation she'd had with Richard Holloway just hours earlier spun on repeat in her mind.
-
The Holloway Event Hall was eerily quiet when Alexandra stepped inside—no laughter echoing from the ballroom, no soft music humming in the background. The party was over, quite literally, and all that was left was the aftermath.
Richard was by the bar, back turned to her, pouring a generous amount of brandy into a crystal glass. The liquid sloshed, careless and bitter, much like the air in the room. He downed it in a single motion, then poured himself another, not even acknowledging her presence.
Alexandra took a shaky breath, her heels clicking softly against the marble as she approached.
Her voice trembled when she finally spoke.
"Uncle... what was that?"
Richard didn't turn. "I assume you mean the announcement."
"Yes, the announcement." Her throat burned, and her voice cracked as the tears she'd been holding back all evening threatened to surface. "Stacy and I had no idea. We're not even together. And you stood there—in front of everyone—and said we were going to be engaged. Why?"
Richard finally turned to face her, glass in hand. His expression was unreadable, a cold mask of composure honed by decades of boardrooms and billion-dollar deals.
"This wasn't just my idea, Alex," he said simply. "Your father asked me to do it."
She staggered back half a step. "What...?"
He set the glass down on the bar with a soft clink. "He came to me a few weeks ago. Told me his health was getting worse. Told me he was afraid he wouldn't be around much longer. And he said there was only one thing he wanted before he goes: for you to be with Stacy. For you to finally be happy."
Her heart clenched, as if someone had reached in and twisted it with both hands.
"My dad..." she breathed, eyes shining. "He asked you to announce it?"
Richard's tone softened only slightly. "He's known how you felt about Stacy, Alex. He told me you've loved her since you were young. That you used to talk about her like she was the whole world. He just wanted to give you a piece of that world... before he had to let go."
Her knees almost buckled. She reached for the edge of a chair but didn't sit. Her entire chest felt like it was caving in.
"He wasn't trying to force anything," Richard continued. "He was trying to give you a chance. A life. One that made you smile again."
Alexandra wiped at her face roughly, as if furious at herself for crying in front of him. "Then why didn't he tell me? Why not ask me? Why go to you?"
"Because he's desperate, Alexandra. And maybe... a little afraid you'd say no."
She bit down hard on her bottom lip, then looked up at him with a mix of pain and accusation.
"And you, Uncle Richard? Why did you agree?"
Richard's face hardened again, his voice turning clinical. "Because it makes sense. For both our families. For the company. You and Stacy are the future of everything we've built. The board will trust you more as a pair. The public will eat it up. Two daughters from legacy families, working side by side, married—it's PR gold. A stable, unified front."
She stared at him, stunned. "So that's it? You said yes... because it was good for business?"
He met her gaze without flinching. "Yes."
The word landed like a slap.
"You didn't care what Stacy wanted. You didn't care what I wanted. You saw two puzzle pieces and tried to force them to fit."
"I saw an opportunity". Richard didn't flinch. "I don't have a problem with the fact that you're both women. Frankly, it made things easier—no need to vet some outsider, no man to evaluate or wonder if I can trust. You? You are Mateo's daughter. I've known you since you were still in braces. I know your bloodline, your loyalty, your upbringing. You and Stacy are already close. There's no issue of inheritance, or scandal. And love..." he shrugged, "love is overrated. But legacy? Legacy lasts. That's what matters."
Alexandra couldn't breathe. Her entire body felt too small for the emotions raging inside her.
"I don't even know what hurts more," Alexandra said, her voice trembling. "That you used my father's love for me to push your own agenda... or that Stacy has to call you her father—someone so consumed with control and legacy that you forgot she's a person. Your daughter. A woman with her own heart, her own mind. And you didn't even stop to ask what she wanted."
Richard said nothing.
She took a slow breath, blinking away fresh tears. "Stacy loves Zoe. Do you even understand what you've done to her tonight? What you made her feel?"
"She'll get over it," he replied coldly. "In time, people do."
Alexandra stepped back from him as if the air around him had become toxic.
"I won't be part of this unless she chooses it. Freely. Without pressure. Without guilt. Not because of legacy. And definitely not because you or my father asked for it."
Her voice softened, trembling at the edges. "I love my dad. And I know he meant well. He just wanted me to be happy." She paused, remembering, her eyes distant. "But what he doesn't know is... I moved on a long time ago. When I was young, maybe it really was a silly crush—a bit of puppy love I mistook for something deeper."
A quiet, wistful breath escaped her. "But as I grew up, I realized it wasn't the love of a soulmate I wanted. It was connection. Family. She was the first person who made me feel seen, and as an only child, I clung to that. What I felt for her was the love and longing for the sister I never had."
Her fingers curled gently in her lap. "I came home to take care of my dad. Not to break the heart of the woman who treated me—and loved me—like a sister."
She paused, gathering the last of her strength.
"Goodnight, Mr. Holloway."
And with that, she turned and walked away—not with her head held high, but with her heart breaking silently, piece by piece.
-
Back in the hospital, Alexandra looked down at her father's sleeping form. She brushed a thumb over his knuckles and whispered, "You meant well. But I'm not a child anymore. And she's not yours to give away."
She stood, kissed his forehead gently, and left the room.
The weight of the next step already pressing on her shoulders.