Aaron stood in front of the mirror, buttoning his shirt methodically. He could hear Vivian pacing behind him, her footsteps sharp against the hardwood floor.
"You're really doing this?" she asked, stopping to lean against the doorframe.
Aaron smirked without turning around. "Why do you sound surprised?"
"I don't know... maybe because you got this company yesterday, and today you're already passing it off to me." Vivian crossed her arms, her reflection visible in the corner of the mirror.
"I don't need to be CEO to control it," Aaron replied, adjusting his collar. "The title means nothing. The power is what matters."
"And you think people won't talk? That they'll just accept this without questions?"
Aaron shrugged. "Let them talk. It changes nothing."
Vivian sighed deeply. "You know Todd will make a scene."
"Todd is predictable. I'm counting on it," Aaron said, finally turning to face her. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Vivian muttered. "Though I still think this is insane."
"The best plans usually are."
The drive to Acadia Media Group was silent. Aaron parked the car and checked his watch—right on time. He got out without a word, Vivian following behind him with her briefcase clutched tightly in hand.
Inside the boardroom, the members were already seated around the long mahogany table. The air was thick with tension as Aaron took his seat at the head, feeling all eyes tracking his movements. Vivian stood behind him, quiet and composed.
Aaron didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"I'm keeping this short," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. "Effective immediately, Vivian is the new CEO of Acadia Media Group."
Silence descended like a heavy curtain. A few board members exchanged confused looks, while others stared blankly, as if waiting for the punchline to a joke.
One of the older board members, Richard, finally spoke up, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"Mr. Turner, you just arrived yesterday. We assumed you would be leading the company yourself."
Aaron leaned forward slightly. "You assumed wrong."
"It's just..." Richard continued, fidgeting with his pen, "unusual to have a leadership change so quickly."
"Unusual doesn't mean wrong," Aaron replied coolly. "Vivian has my complete confidence. She knows what needs to be done."
There was a beat of hesitation, then—polite applause. Some clapped because they agreed, others because it was the expected response, their faces masks of corporate politeness.
Not Todd.
His fists were clenched on the table, knuckles white. His face had turned an alarming shade of red.
"This is ridiculous," he spat, standing abruptly.
Aaron raised a brow. "Something to say, Todd?"
"You took this company away from me, and now you're giving it to her?" His voice shook with barely contained rage. "I built this company! I've been here for years! You think you can just walk in and decide everything?"
Aaron tilted his head slightly. "Yes."
Todd's jaw tightened visibly. "You're making a mistake."
"I'll take my chances," Aaron smirked, enjoying the man's discomfort.
"You don't know what you're doing," Todd continued, voice rising. "This company needs experienced leadership, not—"
"Not what, Todd?" Vivian finally spoke, her voice calm but steely. "Not someone like me?"
"This isn't personal," Todd said, though his tone suggested otherwise.
Aaron stood now, meeting Todd at eye level. "Actually, it is personal. Everything in business is personal. And personally, I think you've done enough damage."
Todd slammed his palm on the table. "I won't let this happen."
"You don't have a choice," Aaron replied, his voice calm but sharp as a blade. "The paperwork is already filed. Security will escort you to clear out your office."
For a second, Todd looked like he might lunge across the table, but one look at Aaron's unflinching stare and he seemed to reconsider. With a final venomous glare, he stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass walls.
Aaron turned back to the board, straightening his tie casually. "Meeting's over. Vivian will schedule individual meetings with each of you to discuss the transition."
No one argued. They filed out silently, their whispers starting only once they thought they were out of earshot.
Vivian waited until they were alone. "That went exactly as you predicted."
"People are predictable when their pride is wounded," Aaron said, gathering his papers. "Be ready. Todd won't go quietly."
"I never expected he would," Vivian replied. "But I can handle him."
"I know you can. That's why you're here."
---
Back home, Aaron threw his jacket on the couch and immediately got to work. He scrubbed the floors, dusted the shelves, washed the dishes—everything Amanda would inevitably find fault with later.
When he was finally done, he collapsed onto the couch and turned on the TV. Vivian's press conference was being broadcast live.
She stood behind the podium, her posture perfect, face composed as reporters fired questions at her from all directions.
"Miss Vivian, do you have enough experience to run a company of this size?" called out one reporter.
Vivian gave a small, confident smile. "I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't."
"What changes do you plan to make to Acadia's struggling divisions?" another shouted.
"The ones that matter," she answered smoothly.
"Some say your appointment was rushed. Do you think you're ready for this responsibility?"
Vivian's smile didn't waver for a moment. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here."
Aaron nodded to himself. Perfect answers. No unnecessary commitments, no revealing details. She was exactly what the company needed—calm, controlled, and impossible to rattle.
Then—
SLAM.
Amanda burst into the room, her face already set in its perpetual scowl.
"You're unbelievable," she announced, dropping her bags loudly on the floor.
Aaron didn't even look away from the screen. "Good evening, Amanda."
"Don't start with me." She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "You've been sitting on your butt all day, haven't you?"
Aaron sighed, muting the television. "The house is spotless."
Amanda scoffed loudly. "And that's enough? You think just because you cleaned, you get to sit around doing nothing?"
"What exactly would you have me do?" Aaron finally turned to look at her. "The laundry's done, dinner's prepped, floors are mopped—"
"I want you to act like a man, Aaron!" Amanda snapped. "You should be working, earning money—doing something instead of being useless all the time!"
Aaron let out a slow, measured breath. "You do realize that I do all the work in this house, right? Every meal, every chore—"
Amanda waved him off dismissively. "And what, you think that makes you competent? You're just a useless idiot playing house."
"Amanda," Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't have the energy for this today."
She scoffed again. "You never have the energy for anything."
"Maybe because I spend all of it dealing with you."
"What did you just say to me?" She stepped closer, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Aaron stood up. "Nothing. I'm going to finish dinner."
"That's what I thought," Amanda muttered, watching him walk away. "Spineless as always."
In the kitchen, Aaron gripped the counter hard, taking several deep breaths. One day, he promised himself. One day he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.
A few hours later, after a tense dinner where Amanda criticized everything from the salt content to the temperature of the food, Aaron's phone rang. Natalie.
He stepped away from the table to take the call. "What's up?"
"We need you to travel," she said without preamble. "Several of your companies have urgent issues that require your attention."
Aaron exhaled slowly. "How bad?"
"Not catastrophic, but important. The board expects you to address them personally."
Aaron rubbed his temple, feeling a headache forming. "When?"
"Soon. Next week at the latest."
Aaron sighed. "Fine. Send me the details."
"Already did. Check your inbox."
Aaron glanced at his phone. A long itinerary had arrived—meetings, site visits, business decisions. No rest in sight.
"Got it," he muttered.
"Good night, sir," Natalie said before hanging up.
Aaron tossed his phone aside and leaned back against the wall. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare, and the day after that, and the one after that...
---
Later that night, Aaron made dinner. Amanda didn't help, as usual, but she was the first to sit at the table.
Sarah joined a few minutes later, looking exhausted from her day at work.
"Dinner smells good," she muttered, sitting down. Aaron handed her a plate. "Long day?"
She sighed heavily. "You have no idea."
Amanda scoffed from across the table. "Oh, she had a long day? Try dealing with a lazy son-in-law who does nothing all day."
Aaron rolled his eyes. "You really have to make everything about me?"
Amanda smirked. "If the shoe fits."
"Mom, please," Sarah said quietly. "Can we just have one peaceful dinner?"
"I'm only stating facts," Amanda insisted. "Your husband is a disappointment."
"And you're a delight," Aaron muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Amanda's eyes narrowed.
"Nothing," Aaron replied, focusing on his plate.
The rest of dinner passed in uncomfortable silence. After cleaning up—alone, as usual—Aaron finally crawled into bed, exhausted down to his bones.
Sleep came mercifully fast. Then—
Smoke.
Heat.
Aaron's eyes snapped open.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
His room was dim, except for the flickering orange glow seeping under the door.
His stomach dropped.
Fire.
The smell hit him next—thick, suffocating smoke that made his eyes water instantly.
He threw off the covers and rushed to the door. The second he opened it, a blast of heat rushed in, nearly knocking him back.
"Amanda! Sarah!" he shouted, his voice already hoarse from the smoke.
"Aaron!" Amanda's voice, panicked and shrill, came from the other room. "Aaron, help!"
"We need to get out!" he yelled back, covering his mouth with his sleeve.
Flames were already licking up the hallway walls, spreading faster than he'd thought possible. The heat was intense, scorching his skin even from a distance.
Aaron ran to Amanda's door and kicked it open. She was stumbling around the room, coughing violently, eyes wide with terror.
"Move!" Aaron grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the doorway.
"My things—" she protested, trying to turn back.
"Leave them!" Aaron ordered. "We need to get out now!"
Sarah ran from her room, covering her mouth with her sleeve, eyes streaming. "The front door!" she gasped.
They ran together down the hallway, the smoke growing thicker with every step. Aaron could barely see, his eyes burning, lungs screaming for clean air.
The front door was in sight—just a few more steps—then—CRACK!
A wooden beam collapsed in front of them, blocking their path, flames leaping up immediately.
"No—!" Amanda shrieked, stumbling backward.
Aaron grabbed both women, pulling them away from the spreading flames. "Back door! Go!"
They turned, sprinting through the living room toward the kitchen. The fire seemed to be everywhere now, consuming furniture, climbing the walls, turning their home into an inferno.
"Aaron—I can't—" Sarah gasped, doubling over in a coughing fit.
"Keep moving!" Aaron pulled her up, practically dragging her forward. "We're almost there!"
In the kitchen, the smoke was so thick they could barely see three feet ahead. Aaron felt his way forward, one arm around Sarah, the other gripping Amanda's wrist.
"Where's the door?" Amanda cried, panic making her voice shrill.
"Straight ahead!" Aaron pushed forward, squinting through the black smoke.
His hand found the doorknob. Searing hot. No choice. He wrapped his shirt around his hand and turned it, then kicked the back door open with all his strength.
Fresh air rushed in, sweet and cool compared to the inferno behind them.
They stumbled outside, all three collapsing onto the grass, coughing and gasping.
Neighbors were shouting, running toward them. Sirens wailed in the distance, getting louder.
Aaron turned back to look. His home—their home—was completely engulfed in flames, orange and red tongues licking at the night sky. The heat was still intense even from where they sat.
Amanda clutched her chest, wheezing. "Everything's gone," she whispered, eyes fixed on the burning house. "Everything..."
Aaron stared at the inferno, his lungs burning with each breath. The flames seemed to dance and sway before his eyes, growing strangely distant.
"Aaron?" Sarah's voice sounded far away. "Aaron, are you okay?"
He tried to respond, but no words came. His vision narrowed, darkening at the edges.
The last thing he saw was the night sky above, orange flames reflecting in the darkness. Then nothing but black.