All Chapters of Legacy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

Chapter 11Hannah's POV​"Mateo has always had a flair for the dramatic," Luke said, his voice flat and professional. The "Hannah" he had whispered moments ago was gone, replaced by the chilling distance of a man who owned the air I breathed. "He mistakes a lapse in my medical recovery for some sort of poetic tragedy. It’s a common error for those who don't have to carry the weight of this company."​I felt the air leave my lungs. "A lapse? Is that all I am to you, Mr. Cromwell? A glitch in your system?"​Luke turned to me, his expression unreadable. "You are an employee, Martin. A talented one, perhaps, but your presence here has become a complication. If Mateo thinks you are the key to my 'recovery,' then he is as delusional as the rumors currently circulating the ballroom."​He took a step toward the glass doors, stopping just beside me. He didn't look at me, but I could feel the cold radiating from him.​"I have a Legacy to maintain," he whispered, so low it was almost a threat. "

Chapter 13Hannah's POVThe rest of the week was a masterclass in psychological warfare—conducted without a single spoken word.​By Thursday, the 40th floor was vibrating with a tension so thick the secretaries were afraid to cough. I maintained my "Silent Edit" with surgical precision. I didn't look at Luke when he walked past. I didn't acknowledge his sighs or the way he lingered at my desk. I simply worked, my noise-canceling headphones serving as my personal fortress.​Luke was unraveling. The "King" who thrived on being the center of gravity was finding out what it felt like to be a ghost in his own house.​On Friday, I decided to do something I hadn't done since moving to the 40th floor. I went down to the main cafeteria for lunch.​"You’re actually here!" Sarah squealed, waving me over to our usual corner table. Vince was already there, nursing a soda. "The 12th floor feels like a funeral home without you, Hannah."​"I missed the noise," I admitted, sitting down.​A few minutes

Chapter 15 Hannah's POV The neon lights of BGC began to blur into long, jagged streaks of electric blue and violet. The music wasn't just something we heard anymore; it was a physical pulse vibrating through the soles of my feet and the glass in my hand. ​By the third round of drinks, the "no Cromwell" rule had been replaced by a chaotic, loud celebration of total recklessness. ​Sarah was currently standing on the plush velvet sofa, trying to teach a very uncoordinated Vince how to do a TikTok dance, her laughter ringing out over the heavy bass. Vince had lost his tie hours ago and was now wearing his dress shirt half-unbuttoned, looking like he’d finally deleted every spreadsheet in his brain. ​"I’m telling you!" Sarah shouted, swaying dangerously. "Hannah is... she’s the legend! To freedom!" She took another shot, slamming the small glass onto the table with a triumphant grin. ​Mateo was leaned back, his eyes glazed with a heavy, expensive kind of intoxication. He wasn't

Chapter 17Hannah's POVThe bass was thumping through the floorboards of Sarah’s Salcedo condo long before I even stepped off the elevator. When the doors opened, the hallway smelled like a mix of expensive perfume and cheap pizza—the universal scent of a Friday night well spent.​Inside, the transformation was complete. The "12th Floor Survivors" had officially shed their corporate skins. Ties were tied around foreheads, heels were kicked into a corner, and the air was thick with the kind of laughter that only happens when the boss isn't around.​"She’s here!" Sarah shrieked over the remix of a Dua Lipa track, waving a red solo cup in the air. She looked like she was three drinks ahead of the room. "The Queen of Velez has entered the building!"​I was immediately swarmed. Vince and a few of the other editors I used to work with huddled around, handing me a cold bottle of beer.​"Is it true Mateo Velez has a literal gold-plated espresso machine?" Vince asked, leaning in as if I were a