Chapter 174
Chapter 174
Victoria stared at the scan results spread across her doctor’s desk. The images showed her body from the inside, revealing the
battle waged within her tissues and bones. But unlike previous scans, these told a different story.
“The tumors have shrunk by sixty–three percent,” Dr. Winters said, her finger tracing the outlines on the images. “It’s the best
response I’ve seen to this treatment protocol.”
Victoria kept her face blank, decades of boardroom battles making it second nature to hide her feelings. But inside, something
unfamiliar bloomed, a fragile, tender hope she hardly dared acknowledge.
“What does this mean, exactly?” she asked, her voice steady despite the storm in her chest.
Dr. Winters removed her glasses, meeting Victoria’s gaze directly. “It means the cancer is responding to treatment far better than
we anticipated. Six months ago, I told you we were looking at buying time. Now, I’m talking about the possibility of remission.”
The word hung in the air between them. Remission. Not cure, never cure with this type of cancer… but something Victoria hadn’t
allowed herself to consider.
“How much time?” The question that had haunted her since diagnosis.
“I can’t make promises,” Dr. Winters said, “but patients with this response rate often gain years rather than months. Good
quality years.”
Years. The enormity of it struck Victoria like a physical blow. She had been preparing to die, arranging her affairs, bracing Camille for the worst. She had accepted her fate with the same grim determination she’d applied to everything in life.
Now, suddenly, there was a tomorrow. Maybe many tomorrows.
“I still recommend continuing treatment,” Dr. Winters continued, putting her glasses back on. “And regular monitoring, of course. But Victoria,” she leaned forward, her professional distance softening, “this is the time to think about what you want to do with this gift.”
Victoria nodded, unable to speak past the unexpected tightness in her throat. She gathered her coat and bag, thanking the doctor with practiced courtesy.
Outside, her driver waited by the car, his face carefully neutral as always. Victoria slid into the back seat, grateful for the privacy partition that allowed her a rare moment of unguarded emotion.
Years. The word echoed in her mind all the way back to her office.
Kane Industries occupied the top ten floors of a gleaming tower in Manhattan’s financial district. Victoria’s office on the highest floor offered views that stretched across the city, a daily reminder of the empire she had built from nothing.
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She stood by the windows now, watching the afternoon light glint off nearby buildings. Behind her, Frederick Winters arranged
papers on her desk, his movements precise and familiar after fifteen years as her lawyer.
“Everything’s prepared as you requested,” he said. “Though I still think we should wait for the quarterly board meeting to make
the announcement.”
Victoria turned from the window. “I’ve waited long enough.”
Frederick sighed. “As you wish. But surely there’s no rush now, not with your health improving.”
“That’s exactly why there’s a rush.”
Her phone rang before she could explain. Camille’s name lit up the screen.
“Are you on your way?” Victoria asked, answering without preamble.
“Just arrived downstairs,” Camille replied. “I’ll be up in five minutes.”
Victoria hung up without saying goodbye, a habit Camille had long stopped trying to change. She smoothed her jacket and moved
to her desk, sitting in the chair that had become almost an extension of herself over the decades.
Frederick gathered his notes. “Shall I stay for this?”
Victoria considered, then shook her head. “No. This should be private.”
When he left, she pressed her palms flat against the polished surface of her desk. For the first time in her memory, her hands trembled slightly.
The corner of her desk held a small silver frame, the only personal item in the otherwise austere office. It contained a photograph of Sophia, her daughter, smiling on a beach Victoria couldn’t remember the name of. Had she even been there when the photo
was taken, or had she sent Sophia with a nanny while she closed some essential deal?
She couldn’t recall. The realization hit her with unexpected force.
When the door opened and Camille entered, Victoria was still staring at the photograph. Camille approached cautiously, noting
Victoria’s unusual stillness.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
Victoria gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Sit down, Camille. I have news.”
Camille’s face tightened with worry. She had seen Victoria through months of treatment, watching her mentor grow thinner, her legendary energy dimming. Though Victoria had never admitted the severity of her condition, Camille had researched enough to understand what stage four pancreatic cancer typically meant.
“Your doctors…” she began, preparing for the worst.
“My doctors,” Victoria interrupted, “are rather surprised.” She pulled out the folder containing her latest scan results. “The treatment is working. The tumors have shrunk significantly.”
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Camille’s eyes widened as she processed this unexpected turn. “That’s… that’s wonderful news.”
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“Indeed.” Victoria’s tone remained businesslike, though her eyes had softened. “Dr. Winters now speaks of years rather than months. Good quality years, she emphasized.”
The relief that spread across Camille’s face touched something deep inside Victoria. In all her life, how many people had genuinely cared whether she lived or died? The number was painfully small.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that,” Camille said, her voice thick with emotion.
Victoria nodded, unused to navigating such personal waters. “It changes things,” she said. “And yet, in some ways, it changes nothing.”
Camille looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Victoria stood and walked to the windows, needing the movement to order her thoughts.
“When I thought I was dying imminently,” she said, “I made certain decisions about my legacy. About Kane Industries. About
you.”
Camille remained silent, waiting.
“I’ve spent decades building this company,” Victoria continued. “Every waking hour dedicated to making it stronger, larger,
more profitable. More mine.” She turned to face Camille. “I thought I would die with my hand still on the controls.”
“And now?” Camille asked softly.
“Now I find I don’t want that ending, even if it’s delayed.” Victoria returned to her desk and opened a drawer. From it, she withdrew a thick document bound in leather. “This is my revised will and succession plan for Kane Industries.”
She pushed it across the desk toward Camille, who made no move to take it.
“Open it,” Victoria directed.
Camille carefully lifted the cover, her eyes scanning the first page. Her breath caught as she read.
“You’re stepping down?” she asked, looking up sharply. “Effective immediately?”
Victoria nodded once. “I’m stepping back from daily operations. I’ll retain my place on the board, but yes, I’m stepping down as
CEO.”
“But why now? Especially with your health improving…‘
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“That’s precisely why,” Victoria cut in. “I’ve been given time I didn’t expect to have. I don’t intend to spend it in board meetings
and conference calls.”
She reached across the desk and turned several pages in the document. “Keep reading.”
Camille’s eyes widened further as she scanned the text. “You’re naming me as your successor. And your heir.” She looked up
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again, momentarily speechless. “Everything? The company, your estate, all of it?”
“Yes.” Victoria’s tone allowed no argument. “You’ve proven yourself worthy of it, in every way that matters. The board will resist,
of course. They’ll say you’re too young, too inexperienced.” A thin smile crossed her face. “They once said the same about me.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Camille whispered.
“Say you’ll accept.” Victoria’s voice softened slightly. “Say you’ll take what I built and make it your own, as you were meant to.”
Camille stood and walked to the window, needing space to process the magnitude of what Victoria was offering. When she turned back, her face showed not just gratitude but understanding.
“This isn’t just about me, is it?” she asked. “It’s about what you want for yourself.”
Victoria felt a flicker of surprise at being so transparently read. “Perhaps.”
Camille smiled. “What will you do? With these years you’ve been given?”
For the first time in their conversation; Victoria smiled fully. “Whatever I want. Travel, perhaps. See the places I’ve only visited
for business. Read books that aren’t financial reports.” She looked again at Sophia’s photograph. “Make peace with old ghosts.”
“You’ve earned it,” Camille said simply.
Victoria studied the young woman before her, once broken, now rebuilt into something stronger than before. Her greatest
project, in many ways. And her greatest gift to the world.
“I built this company to prove something,” Victoria said, more to herself than to Camille. “To prove I was strong enough, smart
enough, ruthless enough. I no longer need that proof.”
She pressed a button on her desk, and her assistant entered with a tray of tea. The ritual of pouring gave Victoria a moment to
collect herself. When they each held a cup, she raised hers in a small toast.
“To unexpected time,” she said.
“And making it count,” Camille added.
They drank in companionable silence. Outside, the afternoon light began to shift toward evening, painting Manhattan’s skyline
in shades of gold.
“The press will speculate wildly, of course,” Victoria said finally. “About my health, about why I’m stepping down.”
“Let them,” Camille replied. “We know the truth.”
Victoria nodded, satisfied with the answer. “The announcement goes out tomorrow. Frederick has prepared statements for both
of us.” She paused. “Are you ready for this?”
Camille didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice held the quiet certainty Victoria had come to respect. “I’ve been
preparing for it. Thanks to you.”
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Victoria allowed herself another small smile. “Then it’s decided.”
She stood and walked once more to the windows, gazing out at the city that had demanded so much and given so much in return.
Behind her, she heard Camille set down her teacup.
“Will you tell me something honestly?” Camille asked.
Victoria turned, curious. “If I can.”
“Are you afraid? Of letting go?”
The question struck deeper than Victoria had expected. Was she afraid? This company had been her identity, her purpose, her
reason for waking each morning. Without it, who was Victoria Kane?
“Yes,” she admitted, surprising herself with the truth. “But I’m more afraid of wasting this gift I’ve been given.
Camille nodded, understanding. “You once asked me what comes after revenge. After you’ve won all your battles and secured
your position.”
“I remember,” Victoria said. “I didn’t have an answer then.”
“And now?” Camille asked.
Victoria looked out at the city one more time, then back to the woman who would inherit her legacy. “Now I intend to find out.”
Not interesting at all
