Council sat in his office. The ergonomic chair cost five thousand dollars. It adjusted to his spine perfectly.
But he missed the pain.
He shifted. It was too quiet here.
"Sir." Marcus walked in. He placed a file on the desk. "Updated background check on Addie Henry."
Council opened it.
Former Junior Appraiser, Sotheby's. Specialization: 19th Century European Art.
Reason for leaving: Family medical emergency (Sister's cancer).
Council ran his finger over the text. Sotheby's. That explained the "ROI" comment. That explained why she knew the value of the chair in the law firm. She wasn't uneducated. She had a career. She had a life. And she gave it up to nurse a dying sister and raise a nephew.
He felt a knot of shame in his gut. He had treated her like trash.
That evening, Council returned to the apartment.
The TV was blaring cartoons. Addie was at the small table, typing furiously on a laptop.
"Dinner?" Council asked. He was starving. He had skipped lunch.
"Pot," Addie said, not looking up. "Stove."
Council walked to the kitchen. A pot was sitting on the burner. He lifted the lid.
Instant noodles.
He sighed. "Sodium and regret," he muttered.
He ladled a bowl. He saw something green. Bok choy. And a poached egg, perfectly round, floating on top.
He sat down and took a bite.
The yolk broke, coating the noodles in rich yellow cream. The broth was spicy. It was hot.
It was delicious.
He ate quickly. He scraped the bottom of the bowl.
Leo waddled over. He was holding a stuffed bear.
"Yummy?" Leo asked. "Addie makes best noodles."
Council looked at the boy. Then at the empty bowl.
"It was... edible," he said.
Addie closed her laptop. She walked over to take the bowl.
"Why did you leave Sotheby's?" Council asked suddenly.
Addie froze. Her hand tightened on the ceramic bowl.
"Family," she said.
"To take care of him?" Council nodded at Leo.
Addie turned to face him. Her eyes were tired but clear.
"Some things are more valuable than antiques, Mr. Bartlett. Like people."
The room went quiet.
Council looked at her. Really looked at her. In his world, people were assets. They were depreciating assets. No one had ever told him that a person was worth more than the bottom line.
"Bath time, Leo," Addie said, breaking the tension. She scooped the boy up.
Council sat alone. He heard the water running. He heard Leo splashing. He heard Addie laughing.
It was a sound he had never heard in the Bartlett manor.
He pulled out his phone.
To: Marcus
Subject: Sarah Henry
Message: Stop the investigation. Delete the file.
The bathroom door opened. Leo ran out, naked and wet, escaping the towel.
He slammed right into Council's legs.
"Gotcha!" Leo shrieked.
Council didn't recoil. He didn't push the wet child away.
He reached down and picked him up. He held the boy awkwardly, but securely.
Addie stepped out of the bathroom, holding the towel. She stopped.
She saw the billionaire, the Ice King, holding her nephew against his expensive sweater.
And for a second, he didn't look like a devil. He looked like a father.
