Chapter 7 - The Vulnerability of Power
Being a titan of industry was fulfilling, but it was lonely. There was a lingering phantom of my old life—the way I used to doubt my own value because of how I was treated. Even now, in the penthouse, there were moments when I would look at Elena, sleeping soundly in her crib, and feel a sharp, sudden terror.
What if I made a mistake? What if I was just as blind as Brendan had been, only in a different way?
I decided to take a step back from the daily grind and focus on the philanthropic arm of Aethelgard. I wanted to build clinics and support programs for single mothers—the women the world ignored, the women the "wealthy" families treated like burdens.
It was during a site visit to a new community center that I encountered someone from my past: Jessica.
She looked a shadow of her former self. The designer clothes were gone, replaced by a drab coat, and her face was lined with the exhaustion of someone who had spent months clawing for survival. She saw me, and her instinct was to flee, but there was nowhere to run in the small lobby.
"Cassidy," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I... I heard what you did. For the employees. For the community."
"I did it for them, Jessica. Not for you," I said coldly.
"I know," she sobbed. "Brendan is in prison. Diane is... she’s completely detached from reality. I lost everything. I thought I was winning when I was with him, but I was just a pawn in their game, just like you were."
I looked at her, and for the first time, I didn't feel rage. I felt a profound, heavy indifference. She was a victim of her own shallowness, a passenger in a car she didn't know how to drive.
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"You were a predator, Jessica," I said, turning to walk away. "Don't confuse your current misfortune with your past choices."
I walked out into the crisp air, leaving her standing in the lobby. My heart didn't race. My hands didn't shake. I was in control of my own narrative.
