TAKING A STAND.

ORION.

I stormed into my father's office, my feet pounding the floor like a drumbeat, my presence announcing my arrival. I didn't bother with the usual pleasantries, the fake smiles and empty words that greased the wheels of corporate politics. Today, I was on a mission, driven by a burning need to confront the man who had been pulling the strings from behind the scenes. The moment his secretary told me he was in, I pushed open the door, the hinges creaking in protest, and took my seat opposite him, my eyes locked on his like a challenge.

He was on a call, his voice smooth as silk, but I didn't care. I was done playing games. The moment he ended the call and turned his attention to me, I felt a spark of tension ignite between us.

"Nice of you to finally grant me an audience, son." he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but I just raised an eyebrow, my expression a mask of indifference.

"Well, I was busy, Father." I replied dryly, my tone a perfect match for his.

"It's truly sad what happened to Mr. Bishop," he continued, his voice a masterclass in insincerity, "but you didn't have to wait a whole week before agreeing to meet with me." I scoffed at his attempt at sounding civil and he scowled at me before he continued. "I wanted to discuss the future of Stone Pharmaceuticals." His eyes narrowed, the challenge in them unmistakable, but I just smiled, a cold, calculated smile, and leaned back in my chair, ready to play his game.

"I'm not going to apologize for refusing to meet with you when the love of my life is fighting for his life in the hospital, Father," I spat, the words tumbling out of my mouth like a challenge. My father's expression twisted into a weird, uncomfortable look when I called Harro the love of my life, but I didn't care. I was beyond caring. I kept talking, my voice rising with every word. "And I've already made it clear that I'll decide the future of my company. Do you even feel sorry?"

My father's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in a tight line. "Of course, I feel sorry that things turned out this way," he said, his voice dripping with insincerity. "You can't help but see me as the enemy, can you?" he asked, his tone laced with a hint of condescension.

I laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "You have never acted as anything but the enemy," I said, the words hanging in the air like a gauntlet thrown. My father's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger, but I didn't back down. I couldn't back down. Not when Harro's life hung in the balance.

"I'm trying to protect the company I built with your mother," my father said, his voice laced with a sense of entitlement, as if he was the only one who truly understood what was at stake.

I raised an eyebrow, my expression incredulous. "My mother obviously knew the company would be safer with me in charge when she signed it over to me, so don't act like she trusted you," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. My father's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger, but I didn't back down.

"Despite what you think of me, your mother and I had some good years between us," he began, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "We built Stone Pharmaceuticals together..." But I cut him off, my words slicing through the air like a knife.

"And yet you betrayed her," I spat, the bitterness in my voice palpable. My father's eyes dropped, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"I made a mistake, it was a moment of weakness," he said, but I laughed, the sound cold and mirthless.

"That moment of weakness lives in the same house you once promised to love my mother forever, and the mistake is the one you're trying to hand over the company my mother put everything into." I said, my words a harsh reminder of his past transgressions. My father's face reddened, his eyes flashing with anger, but I didn't back down.

"Mistakes happened, and a child came out of it," he said, his voice laced with a hint of defensiveness. "Would you have rather I abandoned them?" he asked, but I just shook my head, my expression incredulous.

"Why not? You abandoned my mother and me; it's not like it would be your first time," I said, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. My father's face fell, his eyes dropping in shame. "Let's face it, you left and cheated on Mom because you wanted to, and you kept them because you wanted to. There's no point going back and forth over this. You made your choice, and I've made mine, so let's both live with it. I'm not stepping down from the company, and I'm not giving him up."

My father's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a sinister tone. "And if this were to get out?" he asked, referring to my relationship with Harro. I shrugged, my expression unyielding.

"I don't really care about that anymore," I said, my voice dripping with disdain. "It's not the end of the world. The only thing I care about is seeing him back on his feet." My father's eyes narrowed, but I pressed on, my words a verbal dagger aimed straight at his heart. "You might've forgotten about Mom because she died, but I haven't. And I'll never forget what you did to her, how you betrayed her trust and mine."

My father's usual mask of stoicism and arrogance began to crack, but he quickly masked it with anger. His voice boomed through the room, "How dare you?" But I was unfazed. I returned his words in equal measure, my voice rising to match his.

"No! How dare you?" His eyes widened, but I wasn't done. I was beyond pissed. "How dare you chip away at my self-esteem and everything I hold dear?" I spat, my words a venomous attack. "What have you ever done for me except criticize and belittle my every effort and achievements? Despite you not being there for me, I have persisted and tried my best to live an upright life. But I'm done trying to maintain this facade of being your perfect son and everything else. I'm going to live for me now. Push me one more time and you won't like what happens."

My father's mouth hung open, his eyes wide with shock. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he struggled to process the fact that his son was finally standing up to him. "Are you threatening me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. I scoffed, my voice was cold as I spoke my next words.

"Did that sound like a threat? That was just a promise, but here comes the threat." My father's eyes widened slightly as I continued, his surprise evident. He'd never seen me like this before, never heard me speak with such conviction and anger. "If you even think of revealing my relationship to the world before I do it myself or attempt any sneaky method to make me step down from Stone Pharmaceuticals, the whole world will find out how you cheated on my mother, whom let's not forget built Stone Pharmaceuticals with you, and how you already found her replacement when she was fighting another round of chemo while your teenage son was left taking care of his dying mother alone."

My father's hand gripped the edge of his office table tightly, the veins around his forehead bulging with rage. But I didn't back down. I sat up straight with my head held high, my eyes locked on his, my voice dripping with venom. "You're not going to threaten me with Stone Pharmaceuticals, Father. Not anymore. It's time you learned that I'm not the same scared, obedient son I used to be."

"You wouldn't dare!" my father hissed, his teeth gritted in a snarl. I unleashed a smile, one that was calculated to unsettle him.

"People used to say I was a lot like you," I taunted, my voice dripping with malice. "Do you want to find out how much of you I really am, Father?" The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, my father's eyes locked onto mine, a spark of fear flickering in their depths.

A small gasp escaped his mouth, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. I had finally gotten under his skin. With that, I stood up, my movements deliberate, and walked out of his office without looking back. The sounds of objects being thrown against the wall echoed through the room, a testament to my father's rage.

As I stepped out of the office building, the warm afternoon sun grazed my face, and I finally let out the breath I had been holding. That confrontation had been a long time coming, and it had left me shaken but resolute. I realized that I couldn't ignore my way out of standing up to my father; he was a stubborn man who fought dirty, and the only language he understood was force.

For the past week, I had been working mostly from the VIP hospital room, refusing to leave Harro's side as he fought for his life. The only exceptions were meetings that required my physical presence, like the one with my father this afternoon. His relentless calls to my secretary had made it clear that I had to meet with him, to make it clear that I wasn't backing down without a fight. The emergency meeting he had called while I was at the hospital, taking care of Harro, had been the final straw. It was time to take a stand, to show my father that I was no longer the obedient son he thought he could control.

Harro's eyes remained stubbornly closed, his body a testament to the brutal fight he'd endured. Most of the simple injuries had healed, leaving behind a latticework of scars that seemed to etch his beautiful skin with a story of survival. I hated seeing those scars, but they also served as a poignant reminder of what he'd overcome. His head injury and broken arm were mending beautifully, the bandages now restricted to just his head and one hand.

Athena had been my rock, my constant companion, until she'd had to leave for Paris briefly. Her absence had left a void, but I knew she'd be back soon. In the meantime, I'd had the difficult conversation with her parents via phone, apologizing sincerely for deceiving them about our fake engagement. But I'd also implored them to take some responsibility for putting so much pressure on Athena about getting married. It hadn't been a fun conversation, the tension and disappointment palpable even through the distance.

Harro's father, on the other hand, had been a constant presence, refusing to leave his son's side unless absolutely necessary. I'd found a strange sense of solidarity with him, our shared concern and love for Harro bringing us closer. We'd finally made contact with Azalea and Harro's grandmother, and they'd be arriving tomorrow or the next day, despite Sabastian's attempts to dissuade them from making the journey to Alderan.

As I slid into the car, my bodyguard asked, "Where to, boss?" I sighed, undoing my tie as I settled into the seat.

"Hospital," I replied quietly, my eyes already fixed on the road ahead. My bodyguard nodded, his expression a mask of professionalism, before driving off into the afternoon traffic. Sabastian had been alone with Harro since I'd left a couple of hours ago, and I knew he needed a break. I should go straight to the hospital, so he could take some time for himself.