The city skyline shimmered beneath the pale morning sun, its towers of glass and steel rising like monuments to ambition. From the floor-to-ceiling windows of his corner office, thirty-year old Eric Blackwood stood, a man in his prime. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing grey eyes and dark hair neatly slicked back, he wore power like a tailored suit. His hands remain in his pockets, surveying the empire he'd built — or, rather, the one he'd inherited and forged into something greater. The Blackwood Group wasn't just a company. It was a dynasty. A symbol. A name whispered in boardrooms and gala halls with equal parts envy and reverence.
But today, none of it mattered.
His reflection in the glass stared back at him, sharp suit immaculate, his dark hair just beginning to show a trace of silver at the temples — a testament to long years spent carrying the weight of a legacy. Yet behind the polished surface, a storm brewed.
Today was supposed to be perfect.
His engagement party to Georgia Caldwell — the elegant, socialite darling of Manhattan, the woman everyone said was his perfect match. — was the event of the season. She was beautiful, poised, and came from one of the city's most influential families. More importantly, her parents had been persistent allies in many of his business dealings. The Blackwood name would be linked with the Caldwell dynasty, and together, they would be untouchable.A union that merged two influential names, gracing every society page from New York to London. Yet, despite the promises of champagne and flashing cameras, a nagging weight settled in his chest.
"Sir, the florists confirmed the arrangements for tonight."
Taylor Reed, his ever-efficient assistant, appeared at the doorway, tablet in hand and brow furrowed, interrupting him from his thoughts."And the catering, the guest list, everything's on schedule."
Eric gave a distracted nod.
"And Georgia?"
"She sent word she's at the venue overseeing final preparations. Said to tell you not to be late." Taylor hesitated. "In those exact words."
Eric smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. That sounded like Georgia Caldwell. Beautiful, driven, and with an iron grip on appearances. She liked things precise, polished — perfect. In truth, it was one of the things that had drawn him to her at first. Now, sometimes, it felt suffocating.
This marriage was a respectable match between two prominent families— the Blackwood and the Caldwell. It ensures the Caldwell name will be tied to Blackwood Holdings for generations, and it offered him a partner who, on paper, understands the demands of a public, powerful life. But above all, it was a love match. He loved and cared deeply for Georgia and he believes she feels the same way about him.
"Tell her I'll be there," he said.
Taylor hesitated again.
"You okay, boss?"
Eric turned from the window, something unspoken in his eyes.
"Do you ever get the feeling," he murmured, "that everything you've built, everything you've fought for, could come crashing down in a single moment?"
Taylor blinked, caught off guard.
"Uh… no, sir. Can't say I have."
Eric chuckled softly and shook his head. "Forget it. I'm just… nerves, I guess."
But it wasn't nerves. It was something else. A heaviness in his chest that no amount of business deals or brandy could dull. An unease he couldn't name.
The intercom buzzed.
"Mr. Blackwood, there's a call for you on line one. It's… Emma Blackwood."
His breath caught.
Emma.
His baby sister
The name stirred a thousand memories — sun-drenched afternoons at their family estate, sneaking out to the lake in summers, her laughter like music through the old house. It had been over a year since he'd seen her. After marrying and moving to another city, she'd buried herself in a quiet life, away from the weight of the Blackwood name. The last time they spoke had been after the tragedy — the plane crash that stole her husband.
He snatched up the receiver.
"Em?"
"Surprise, big brother." Her voice was soft, a little weary, but unmistakably hers.
His heart twisted.
"Where are you? Are you okay?"
"Better than okay," she said, a hint of a smile in her tone. "I'm at the airport."
"What?"
"I… I wanted to surprise you. I know it's your engagement party tonight. Thought I'd crash it." A beat. "If that's okay."
Emotion thickened his throat.
"You never have to ask."
"Good. Because I've missed you, Eric."
"I've missed you too, Em." He cleared his throat. "I'm coming to get you. Stay where you are."
"I'm not going anywhere."
He hung up and turned to Taylor.
"Clear my schedule for the next hour. I'm heading to the airport."
Taylor raised a brow. "Something wrong?"
"No." Eric's face softened. "Something very right."
And for the first time in months, that heaviness in his chest lifted. He grabbed his coat, ignoring the buzzing of his phone — another message from Georgia, no doubt reminding him not to be late and keep their guests waiting. Let them wait, he thought. There was only one person he needed to see right now.
He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.