Chapter 13 - A Visit to the Old Office
On a brisk Friday afternoon, I took a detour through the financial district and walked into the grand marble lobby of Harrison & Cole. The receptionist greeted me by name, buzzing me up to the executive suite without hesitation.
Victoria Vance was reviewing architectural blueprints for the foundation's next phase—a series of affordable housing units designed for young families and local artisans trying to establish themselves in the city.
"Rowan! Perfect timing," Victoria said, rolling up the blueprints. "We just received the final zoning approval from the city council. Construction on the residential block can begin next month."
"That's great news," I said, taking a seat across from her desk. "How are the capital allocations looking?"
"Exceptionally strong. The commercial properties are yielding a steady twenty percent higher than projected, and the trust is completely self-sustaining," she said, leaning back in her leather chair. "Your grandfather set up a masterpiece. He just needed someone with the discipline to protect it from being gutted."
"He knew what he was doing when he handed me that key," I murmured, recalling the sterile hum of the hospital room where it all began.
May you like
"He did," Victoria agreed softly. "And speaking of your grandfather, the estate probate is officially closed. There are no remaining legal challenges from your aunt or father. They’ve accepted the reality of the trust."
A sense of absolute finality washed over me. The war was over. The corporate vultures had flown away, and the foundation was standing on bedrock. I wasn't just surviving my family's legacy anymore; I was actively rewriting it into something meaningful.
