Mikael sat in his office, the world moving around him—stocks shifting, reports updating, assistants murmuring in the background.
And yet, for the first time in years, he wasn't thinking about numbers.
He was thinking about her.
Chloe Redgrave.
His little sister. The one who had refused his help, rejected her inheritance, built herself from scratch—all to prove she could.
And now, after so many years, after all his restraint—she had used his card.
His jaw tightened. He tapped the screen.
Dialing.
A beat.
Then another.
Chloe hesitated when she saw the caller ID.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, breath hitching slightly, eyes burning before she even realized it.
She hadn't heard his voice in so long.
And now? He was calling.
She pressed accept, phone trembling slightly in her grip.
Silence for a breath.
Then—soft, almost unbelieving—she whispered,
"Eldest brother."
Her eyes watered.
She had missed him.
More than she had ever let herself admit.
Mikael exhaled, his voice deep, steady. "Chloe Redgrave."
A pause.
Then—gentle, unassuming, but firm—he asked,
"Are you crying?"
Chloe inhaled, blinking rapidly.
She hadn't even realized.
She touched her cheek, fingertips brushing against dampness.
She was.
Not from regret.
Not from weakness.
From everything.
Her lips parted slightly, breath shaky. "I think…" She swallowed. "I think it's time to go back."
Mikael closed his eyes briefly, a long exhale escaping him.
Then—quiet, assured, unshaken—
"Then come home, Chloe."