14!Daughters!

ZARA

Today is my official first day at Zenith Law Firm.

With Gabriel and the others signing over their shares to me, I finally have what I came for, power. The same power as Monica.

She can’t make a single move without my approval now.

And very soon, she won’t be able to move at all.

I glanced at my mirror for the second time, then the third. Obsessing.

Not about nerves, those were gone.

This was war. And I planned to look the part.

No boring black suit. No plain white shirt. I wasn’t here to blend in.

I wore a deep emerald green satin blouse that wrapped softly around my waist and tied at the side, showing just enough skin to make people look twice, but think twice before speaking. The color made my skin glow and brought out the gold in my eyes.

Tucked into high-waisted cream trousers, the fabric hugged my hips and flowed effortlessly to my ankles, where sharp, nude stilettos clicked into place. Not too high. Just enough to remind people I walked above them now.

My long dark hair was parted cleanly down the middle, sleek and straight. My makeup was soft but powerful—nude lips, glowing skin, and eyeliner sharp enough to cut through Monica’s fake smile.

A soft scent of oud and jasmine clung to my skin. Sophisticated. Bold. Feminine.

I didn’t wear jewelry except for one thing, my father’s old watch, the one he used to wear before everything went dark. I’d had it resized to fit my wrist, and now it sat perfectly over the cuff of my blouse. A reminder. A promise.

This look wasn’t for Monica. It wasn’t even for Matthew. It was for me.

I walked out of the house, climbed into my car, and drove through the gates like I’d done it a thousand times.

But this time, I wasn’t returning as a lawyer. I was returning as the woman they underestimated.

As I stepped into the lobby, all eyes turned.

A silence passed. The woman at the reception looked at me, and gasped softly. She didn't bother to stop me.

And there she was, Monica, standing in front of the elevators, dressed in a usual grey pencil skirt and navy blazer. Polished. Predictable.

She turned. Her smile twitched. Faded.

I walked right up to her, heels echoing like a ticking clock.

“Morning,” I said, smiling sweetly.

“Zara,” she replied, her voice tight. “I thought I made myself clear. You are a shareholder without any shares, you don't have anything to prove or do here.”

I smiled, walked past her and pressed the button of the elevator. “I think we should talk,” I said, and walked into the elevator.

She stood outside, looking at me. “There is nothing to talk about,” she said.

“You will want to hear this, before it comes out in the press,” I said, and she walked into the elevator.

We both stood in silence, until we got to the fifth floor. “Why are we heading here?” She asked.

“You say a lot of things,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I'm a lawyer, I'm expected to say a lot of things,” she replied.

“Well, intelligent things,” I said as the elevator doors opened. 

As I walked in, a lot of eyes turned. Whispers, and gasps filled the room. I could feel Monica tensed as she walked beside me.

We both walked into the conference room, I moved over to the end of the table, facing the people staring back at me.

I smirked, and waved at them. Monica picked up a remote on the table, pressed a button and the windows tinted.

I scoffed, she was liking the attention I was getting.

“Now, tell me what you are doing here?” She asked.

“Taking over my father's firm,” I said, and she scoffed.

“This is my father's firm also, and just like your father he had majority shares making them equal. My father gave his to me without any clause, so there is no takeover happening,” she said with her arms crossed.

“Actually there is.” I'm sure by now Gabriel Seager, and a few others have sent in their resignation,” I said, and she looked at me confused, then checked her phone.

“Not only that, they have transferred to me all their shares, making me just as equal as you,” She gasped, and looked at me in anger.

“These documents will prove that. It wasn't an easy task convincing him,” I said. “I had to promise him I will be at his daughter's wedding, I'm sure you have been invited,” this angered her the most.

I only said that to see her reaction because I knew she wasn't invited.

“This is impossible!” She yelled.

“Actually it's pretty basic, and textbook easy. As a lawyer you should know that,” I said with a smirk.

Monica’s face drained of color as she stared at the documents.

“No,” she whispered. “This can’t be real.”

“It’s very real,” I said softly, walking to the head of the table. “Gabriel didn’t just resign. He gave me everything. So did Franklin. And two others. That gives me enough voting power to match you, Monica.”

Her jaw clenched. She gripped the edge of the table like she might crush it with her bare hands.

“My father built this firm,” she snapped. “He sacrificed everything…”

I raised up my hands, cutting her off. “My father also built this place. He also sacrificed everything, including a relationship with me.”

“Is that what this is?” She asked, and I tilted my head. “Trying to make daddy proud from the grave, maybe he would believe in you,” she said with a smirk.

“How dare you?” I asked, as I walked towards her. She didn't walk back, she charged at me as well.

“What do you want? I can offer a buyout. Any amount you want,” she said, and I scoffed.

“Thinking this is about money is where you are so wrong,” I said.

“You think I care about your money?” I said, laughing bitterly. “I don’t need your offer. I want justice. For my father. For myself. For all the things you and your father stole.”

“You sound crazy,” Monica said, her voice rising. “Obsessed.”

“No,” I said, stepping closer, calm. “I sound focused. And you’re scared.”

She glared at me, but I saw it, the flicker of fear in her eyes.

“Everything’s falling apart for you, Monica. And I haven’t even started.”

She looked around the room, then back at me. “You think people are going to follow you? Trust you? You’re a name on paper. I’ve been running this firm. I have the board’s loyalty.”

“We’ll see,” I said, picking up the file and walking to the whiteboard.

“I have plans. Real ones. The kind this firm needs if it’s going to survive the mess you’ve made.”

She scoffed again and took a step forward. “You don’t belong here, Zara. You’re just the daughter of a man who died chasing ghosts.”

I turned slowly, something dark flashing in my chest. “And you’re the daughter of the man who created them.”

Before she could answer, the door creaked open behind us.

Matthew.

His tall frame filled the doorway. He looked sharp. Clean. Professional. But confused.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Monica's eyes lit up like she’d just seen a lifeline. She stumbled backward suddenly, crashing into a chair with a loud thud.

“Ow!” she cried out, holding her side. “Zara… she pushed me!”

Matthew’s eyes darted to me in shock.

“What?” I said, stunned. “I didn’t touch her…”

“She just snapped,” Monica whispered, tears forming. “I was trying to talk to her. She attacked me.”

Matthew looked between us, jaw tightening.

And just like that, it feels like the tables turned.

Again.