Too Late, Mr. William, She's Free

as his ward. For ten years, I loved him, not as a gua

I confessed. He crush

liability

t." He forced me to wear a cheap necklace I was allergic to, the metal burning my skin like a brand o

me, but to scream that I had ruined h

age of my life, an encrypted email arrived from my long-lost godfathe

pte

oe: Merger of Tech Giants Confirmed." The words blurred, then sharpened, each one a needle piercing through the f

ldn't

ke. A cruel joke. Fran

er dark hair, perfectly coiffed, brushed his shoulder. My stomach convulsed, a bitter, metallic

e polished chrome - swirled into a dizzying vortex. I felt like I was falling, even

desperate, childish chant i

of sirens still echoing in my ears. My father, brilliant, kind, but too trusting, had been outmaneuvered, his life' s work s

lin W

red the funeral, a blur of black suits and hushed whispers. Then, his imposing figure loomed over me, a dark shadow agai

eep, oddly comforting in its authority. "T

Even if he was also the one who caused it. I lived in his gilded cage, a penthouse overlooking Manhattan, a silent, watchful girl, then a teenager, gr

oramic windows, reflecting in my hopeful eyes. I had practiced my words, rehearsed the confession a hundred times. I

c rhythm against my ribs. "Franklin," I began,

rrowed. He didn't flinch, didn't react with surprise, only with a chilling finality. "Love i

st a hollow ache, deepening with each beat of my broken heart. He turned awa

pre-merger gala, a glittering spectacle of power and ambition. That's when I first saw her. Katarina Monroe. Her presence

licking a rhythmic beat against the marble floor, a queen approaching a lowly peasant. "Franklin's pet project, I presume?" she d

der the cold, silent judgment of Franklin, who stood a few fe

in love, in a future with him. I was a child, a fool, a burden. The disgust was a physical thing, rising in my throat. I tore at the expe

I poured a generous amount into a crystal glass. It burned going down, a fiery liquid ripping

ouldn't be my life. I had to leave. I ha