Christiana & Classic

Christiana sat in her private lounge, her sharp eyes scanning through reports of the latest economic developments under the Blackwood Union. The world was bending to their will, whether willingly or by force, and she had ensured every operation ran with precision.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Without looking up, she spoke. "Enter."

The door opened, and Classic stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He carried an air of quiet power, much like his father, but with a sharper edge—one honed by the constant weight of expectations.

"You're working too much," Classic said, closing the door behind him.

Christiana didn't look up. "And you're not working enough."

Classic chuckled as he took a seat across from her. "I'm handling things my way. You, on the other hand, seem determined to run yourself into the ground."

Finally, Christiana placed the reports down and leaned back. She studied him for a moment before speaking. "Do you have a reason for being here, or did you come just to lecture me?"

Classic smirked. "Maybe both. But mostly, I came to talk about Ethan."

Her expression hardened. "What about him?"

"I don't trust him."

Christiana raised a brow. "And you think I do?"

Classic leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know you don't. But I also know that Dad put him in power for a reason."

Christiana's jaw clenched. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Classic nodded. "No, but it means we have to be careful. Ethan is testing boundaries, seeing how far he can push before Dad intervenes." He paused, his gaze sharp. "I don't plan to sit back and let him think he's untouchable."

Christiana smirked. "Good. Because neither do I."

Classic sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. "Then let's make sure he never forgets who truly runs this empire."

Christiana's eyes gleamed with something close to amusement. "I was hoping you'd say that."