Chapter 2 Meetings and Legacies

Third Person POV

The conference room buzzed with layered energy,... an undercurrent of power wrapped in polished suits, last names with weight, and whispered rivalries spanning generations. The long mahogany table gleamed under the overhead lighting as the third generation of the Michaels and Morgan families gathered for the quarterly review.

Clifton Michaels, 22, adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes. Sitting beside him was his younger sister, Carmen, 21, looking bored out of her mind and making no effort to hide it.

"Why do I have to be here?" she whispered under her breath, flipping through the agenda packet with the enthusiasm of a teenager forced to go to church.

Clifton leaned in, whispering back, "Because you’re a stockholder. And because Grandfather said so."

"I only work here part-time. This is not my ministry," she muttered, folding her arms. Her oversized latte sat untouched in front of her.

"Ministry or not, welcome to the family circus. You wanted that stake in the firm, right? Comes with a front-row seat to the drama," Clifton smirked, nudging her playfully.

Carmen rolled her eyes but cracked a small smile. "If this turns into another three-hour pissing contest between Kole and Crandon, I’m walking out."

Closer to the center of power sat Kole Michaels, 32 years old, ambitious, intimidating, and far too aware of both. Across from him was Knox, 28, his younger brother, the one who preferred control through silence and calculation. Kira, 24, the youngest of the trio, sat poised with a legal pad in one hand and her phone in the other, texting with a smirk.

"Who are you texting?" Knox asked dryly.

"My man," she said with a grin. "He's working the lunch shift at Fogo de Chão. Promised to bring me leftover filet mignon."

Knox shook his head. "Tell him to drop off something for me."

Kira snorted. "You wish."

Crandon Morgan, 34, adjusted his cufflinks across the table. Calm, collected, and layered like an expensive whiskey, he took a long look at the agenda before glancing up, just briefly at Carmen. She didn’t notice. Or maybe she did. The corner of her mouth twitched.

He leaned over to her once the meeting was about to adjourn. "Stop by my office afterward. I want your opinion on the Universal case brief."

No one batted an eye. On the surface, it was a professional request. But there was something in the tone, in the ease of the ask, that made Clifton shoot Crandon a sideways glance. Carmen, however, simply nodded, her face unreadable.

Meanwhile, Tiffany Morgan, 26, and Silas Morgan, 24, flipped through their own case notes. Tiffany was already on her second espresso. Silas, as always, looked like he belonged in a Calvin Klein ad campaign rather than a law office, but his insights were razor sharp.

At the end of the table, Sienna typed rapidly, her screen glowing with financial spreadsheets and preliminary statements. Her hair was pulled back, her blouse crisp, and her attention was unwavering. She wasn’t part of the family. Not even close. But in her fifth week working at the firm, she had already made an impression.

Sienna was a forensic accountant, not a legal assistant, as for some odd reason people still assumed so. She was there for one reason: to do her job. And she did it well. While the air in the room crackled with family drama and undercurrents of ego, she kept her focus locked on the financials.

Her lack of interest in the men around her only made some of them notice her more.

Kole, in particular, sneaked glances, nothing overt, just small, curious looks. Knox caught himself doing the same once and immediately redirected his eyes because he had been watching her a little too long between agenda points.

Kira, seated beside Knox, leaned in with a smirk.

“She’s here to work bro and not as your assistant today, and definitely not for your fantasy. So chill.”

"She’s not my type," he muttered under his breath.

Kira didn’t even look up from her phone. "Sure, bro, just keep telling yourself that."

Two brand new major cases had just hit the firm both high profile, both potentially legacy-defining.

The first was an embezzlement case involving Mayor Stanley Rogers, whose backroom dealings and disappearing campaign funds had finally caught up with him. The second and arguably more explosive was a class-action lawsuit against Universal Airlines. Morgan & Michaels LLP was representing the people, taking on the airline for price gouging and excessive luggage overcharging that disproportionately affected low-income and middle-class travelers.

“This class action could set a precedent for other industries,” Crandon had said earlier, his voice tight with conviction. “And it’s going to get ugly.”

Knox agreed. "We need airtight data for discovery. Sienna, I want you to review all ticket pricing over the last five years. If you can go back further, that would be awesome too. Look for patterns, manipulations, spikes tied to holidays, and flight cancellations. If it’s there, find it."

Sienna simply nodded, already deep into the files.

Carmen glanced at her brother, her tone low. "She’s good."

Clifton nodded. "Very. And she doesn't care about impressing anyone here, which makes her dangerous, in the best way."

Meanwhile, Crandon watched Carmen out of the corner of his eye. She was too young, too sharp, too connected, and way too fucking sexy for her own good. But there was something about her, which is her mind, her mouth, her fire. He knew it could be trouble.

Still, he wanted that opinion. Just an opinion.

Or so he told himself, because her body was something else that he really, really wanted to touch, to taste, and to savor.

The meeting closed with final remarks from Kole and Crandon because they each had to have the last word, as usual. The family, friends, siblings, and coworkers filtered out of the room, papers in hand, plans forming.

And the legacy kept moving just like clockwork, one tick at a time.