Katherine watched him leave, her expression thoughtful. The elevator ride down felt longer than usual. When he reached his office, he closed the door and sank into his chair, staring out at the city skyline.

The launch was critical not just for revenue, but for proving to his father and the Thorne family that he could still lead under pressure. Yet every decision felt tainted by what had been lost.

What’s been done is done, Martin thought bitterly, rubbing his jaw. No going back. He will have to live by it.

A soft knock sounded on his door.

"Enter," Martin said, his voice steady but tired.

Riley stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her. She looked hesitant, clutching a tablet to her chest like a shield. Her usual bright energy was dimmed, replaced by quiet determination. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," she began, shifting her weight. "But... Fiona, despite what has happened, she loved this company. During the few months she was here, she was of great help. Removing her hard work just because she resigned ain’t fair to me. Or to the team. Or to the brand, honestly."

Martin leaned back, studying her. Riley had always been loyal to Fiona. He respected that, even if it stung right now.

"Sit down, Riley," he said quietly, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

She perched on the edge, as if ready to leave at any moment. "I know Clara has strong opinions, and some of her suggestions make sense on paper. But the heart of this campaign the real-skin stories, the softer palettes, the tagline that was Fiona’s. She fought for it because she believed in it. Changing it all now feels like... erasing her. Like the company is punishing her for leaving."

Martin exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting back to the skyline. The sun was beginning to dip, painting the buildings in hues of orange and gold. It should have been beautiful. Instead, it felt hollow.

"I’m not trying to erase her," he said finally. "But the launch has to move forward. Clara raised legitimate concerns about brand consistency and market perception. We made compromises today."

Riley shook her head. "Compromises that stripped away most of what made it special. Fiona poured herself into this. Even after everything... she still cared. I saw the late nights she put in. The way she defended those concepts in every review. It wasn’t just work for her."

The words landed heavily. Martin felt them settle in his chest, mixing with the familiar tightness he had grown used to since the panic attacks started affecting others around him. He thought of Fiona’s quiet strength, the way she had challenged him without fear, the passion she brought to every project.

"I know," he admitted, voice low. "She was one of the best creatives we’ve had. Her vision elevated the inclusivity angle in ways I didn’t even anticipate. But decisions have consequences. She chose to leave. We have to respect that and keep the company moving."

Riley met his eyes directly. "Respecting her departure doesn’t mean disrespecting her work. At least keep the core elements. The team is demoralized. They saw how hard she fought for this. If we gut it now, it sends the wrong message that loyalty only matters until someone walks out the door."

Silence stretched between them. Martin tapped his fingers on the desk, weighing her words. Part of him wanted to push back, to protect the compromises already made. Another part the part that still replayed their stolen moments, the elevator, the mall ached at the thought of diminishing Fiona’s legacy.

"I’ll review the changes personally tonight," he said at last. "We won’t strip everything. Some of her original direction stays. Tell the team to trust the process."

Riley’s shoulders relaxed slightly. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot."

She stood to leave, pausing at the door. "For what it’s worth... I think she still cares about Voss too. Even if she can’t be here anymore."

The door closed softly behind her. Martin remained seated, the weight of the day pressing down. Katherine’s words from earlier echoed Fiona is gone. But she wasn’t. Not really. Her influence lingered in every board, every concept, every quiet corner of this building.

He pulled up the revised presentation on his screen and began undoing some of Clara’s more aggressive edits. Not all. But enough to honor what Riley had said. What Fiona had built.

Clara drove to Marcus apartment after work.She let herself in with the key he had given her, carrying bags of Thai takeout that filled the apartment with the warm aroma of lemongrass, coconut, and spices. Marcus was slumped on the couch in comfortable loungewear, staring at the ceiling with a distant look. The remnants of his recent panic attack still showed in the slight pallor of his skin and the tension in his shoulders.

"You’re back," he said, sitting up slowly as she approached. His voice carried the exhaustion of someone still recovering from that terrifying night.

Clara set the bags on the dining table and walked over to him, sliding onto the couch beside him. She cupped his face gently and kissed him, slow and reassuring.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, searching his eyes.

"Better than yesterday," Marcus admitted, leaning into her touch. "But my chest still feels tight ."

You can’t keep doing this . The panic attack was a warning sign. You collapsed in your own home, breathing like you were dying. That’s not normal. You need professional help."

Marcus looked away, uncomfortable. "I don’t know... Therapy? It feels like admitting I’m broken."

"You’re not broken," Clara said firmly, squeezing his hands. "You’re human.Your blood pressure spiked, and the doctors said stress management is non-negotiable. I’ve already looked into it. There’s a great therapist. She specializes in high-achievers dealing with relationship trauma and anxiety. We can get you started this week. I’ll even go with you to the first session if it makes you feel better."

Marcus hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’ve never done therapy before. What if it just makes everything worse? Digging up all those old feelings my past ..."

Clara shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Her voice was gentle but insistent. "That’s the point, baby. You’ve been suppressing it, and look where it got you on the floor of your penthouse with paramedics rushing in. If you don’t start dealing with it now, the next attack could be worse. I’m worried about you. I love you, and I want you healthy and strong. Not just for me, but for yourself. Imagine feeling lighter, sleeping better, not having these episodes hanging over us. We could focus on the future instead of the past."

She paused, tracing a finger along his arm. "The launch at Voss is coming up fast. You need to be at your best. Starting therapy now will help you process everything so it doesn’t sabotage you later. I can handle the intake paperwork tonight if you want. Just say yes, and I’ll support you every step."

Marcus was quiet for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. He thought about the vise-like pressure in his chest, the way the room had spun that night, Clara’s panicked voice on the phone. She had been there for him without hesitation.

"You really think it’ll help?" he asked finally.

"I know it will," Clara replied, kissing his temple. "You’re already taking the medication they prescribed. Therapy is the next step. We’ll face this together. No more hiding how much that woman’s choices are still affecting you."

Marcus exhaled deeply and nodded. "Alright. Set it up. I’ll start."

Clara smiled warmly, hiding the satisfaction behind her eyes. Getting him into therapy would keep him vulnerable and dependent, while she continued dismantling Fiona’s influence at Voss. It was perfect.

They moved to the table to eat, the conversation flowing more easily now. Clara shared highlights from the launch meeting how she had opposed Fiona’s ideas one by one while Marcus listened, grateful for her strength even as his own emotions still churned beneath the surface.

Riley’s fingers hovered over her phone for a long moment before she finally tapped Fiona’s name. She had waited until she was out of the office building, walking toward the parking garage where the evening light was fading into soft purples and oranges. The weight of the meeting still sat heavy on her chest. She needed to tell Fiona everything before the revised plans went any further.

The phone rang twice before Fiona picked up.

"Riley?" Fiona’s voice came through, warm but carrying that familiar note of caution these days. "Hey, is everything okay?"

Riley leaned against a concrete pillar, glancing around to make sure no one from Voss was nearby. "Hey, Fi. I’m sorry to call so late. We had a launch meeting. I had to tell you... it was rough."

Fiona was quiet for a second.

"Tell me," Fiona said softly. "What happened?"

Riley exhaled. "Clara went after every single one of your ideas. Systematically. She called the real-skin journey storytelling ’risky’ and ’too personal.’ Said the muted palettes made everything look cheap instead of luxurious. She even attacked the tagline ’Beauty Beyond Perfection,’ claiming it implied our products aren’t already perfect. She pushed hard for bolder golds, cleaner before-and-after narratives, and a more aspirational tone. It was like she was personally erasing your vision piece by piece."

Fiona stayed silent, but Riley could hear her breathing change.

"Martin let her do most of it?" Fiona asked finally, her voice quieter.

"He compromised on some things to keep the meeting moving," Riley replied. "But he looked... tired. Distracted. After everyone left, I went to his office. I told him straight up that it wasn’t fair. That you loved this company, that you poured real heart into those concepts, and stripping them just because you resigned felt wrong. He actually listened. Said he’d review the changes tonight and keep some of your core direction. But Clara’s influence is strong right now. Katherine was there the whole time, nodding along."

Fiona let out a slow breath. Riley could almost feel the mix of emotions through the phone hurt, anger, maybe a touch of relief that not everything was gone.

"I knew she would," Fiona said after a moment. "Clara’s been gunning for this. Part of me expected it. But hearing it... it still stings. That campaign was important to me. I fought for those real stories because people need to see themselves in beauty, not just an ideal. And now it’s being polished into something colder."

"I know," Riley said gently. "The team felt it too. Everyone left drained. A few people even mentioned how much better the original concepts felt. I backed you as much as I could in the room, but Clara’s good at sounding reasonable while tearing things down."

Fiona was quiet again. Riley waited, giving her space.

"I appreciate you telling me," Fiona said eventually. "And thank you for talking to Martin. It means more than you know. I’ve been trying to let go of Voss, to focus on what’s next, but hearing this... it brings everything back.

"You did your all," Riley assured her. "Even if Clara’s twisting it now, your foundation is still there. Martin said some of your direction stays. I’ll keep fighting for it on the inside."

Fiona’s voice softened. "You’re a good friend, Riley. I don’t know what I’d do without your updates. Just... be careful around Clara, okay? She’s playing a long game."

"I will be careful..."