The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 106: Equal partners

She stepped closer. Too close. "I’m your sister, Amara, not your child!" The words hit harder than they should have. Because they weren’t just about the file.

"You don’t get to control me," Amira continued, her voice trembling now, not with weakness but fury. "You don’t get to tell me what to do."

Her chest rose sharply, her breath uneven. "We are equal partners in this legacy!" Equal. The word hung heavy. Demanding. Challenging. Amara didn’t move. Didn’t step back. But something in her posture shifted just slightly.

Not defensive. Not aggressive. Steady. Grounded in a way she hadn’t been before. Then came the final strike.

"What am I supposed to tell Leo?" Amira pressed, her voice dropping, sharper now, more cutting. "That our plans are on hold because you can’t manage a shareholder?"

A beat. "Or because you think the money is too much?" Another step closer. "Leo put so much work into this!" And there it was.

Not the Foundation. Not the legacy. Leo. Amara’s fingers tightened around the file.

Just slightly. Her gaze lifted fully now, meeting Amira’s, really meeting it. And for the first time since she walked into the house. There was something different in her eyes.

Not just grief. Not just exhaustion. Something clearer. Something quieter. But stronger. Because beneath all the noise, all the pressure, all the demands. A realization had begun to settle. This wasn’t just about money.

And it definitely wasn’t just about the Foundation. Something else was moving. And Amara was starting to see it.

The shift in Amira’s expression. It was instant. But Amara felt it before she fully saw it. A cold, creeping dread slid down her spine, settling deep in her chest like something familiar... and feared.

Because she had seen this before. Too many times.

It had been weeks since Amira had sat in that quiet office, since anyone had helped her hold the edges of herself together. weeks since someone had steadied the storms before they could rise.

And then Leo came. With his easy words. With his certainty. You don’t need that anymore. And Amira had believed him.

Now... The cracks were showing again. Not small ones. Not subtle ones. The kind that split things wide open.

Amara felt it all at once. Her mother’s absence is still raw and bleeding. Silas’s shadow, looming just outside their doors.

The company, shifting, unstable beneath her feet. And now... This. Her sister, unraveling right in front of her. It was too much. It pressed in from every side until there was no space left to breathe, no room left to think, only react.

"Stop it, Amira!" The words tore out of her before she could stop them.

Sharp. Loud. Breaking. Her voice cracked under the weight of everything she had been holding back.

"Stop acting like your old, selfish..." she faltered for half a second, but the anger carried her through, "..bitch self and look at the bigger picture!"

The silence that followed. It was different. Not heavy. Not tense. Just... stunned.

"Our mother is barely in the ground," Amara went on, her chest rising too fast now, her control slipping with every word, "and the company is under siege!"

Her voice echoed through the foyer, louder than she intended, harsher than she meant. But she couldn’t pull it back.

Not now. Not after everything. Amira didn’t argue. Didn’t shout back. Didn’t defend herself.

She just... froze. Like something inside her had snapped. Then. She recoiled. As if the words had been something physical. As if Amara had actually struck her.

Her lip trembled, the anger still there but tangled now with something else. Something softer. Something hurt.

Her eyes flickered, searching Amara’s face like she didn’t recognize the person standing in front of her anymore.

And maybe... For a moment... She didn’t. Without a word, she turned. Quickly. Too quickly.

Like staying even a second longer would break something she couldn’t fix.

Her heels clicked sharply against the marble as she walked away then faster. Then, almost a run. The front doors opened.

Closed. And just like that. She was gone. The sound echoed through the house, final and hollow. Amara stood there, unmoving. The words she had said still hung in the air between the walls. Still sharp. Still real. And now..

There was no one left to throw them at. Only herself to hear them. The silence returned. But this time. It didn’t feel tense. It felt... empty. Like something had just been lost. And deep down. Even through the anger, the exhaustion, the grief. Amara knew.

She hadn’t just pushed Amira away. She had hurt her.

The moment the door shut behind her, Amira didn’t slow down. She couldn’t.

The drive was a blur of red lights, turns, and the sound of her own breath coming too fast, too uneven. Everything inside her was loud. Too loud. Amara’s words echoed over and over again, each one sharper than the last.

Selfish. Bitch. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to push it away. It stayed. By the time she reached Leo’s house, she was already breaking.

The door barely had time to open before she was inside, before she was moving straight into him.

Amira collapsed into Leo’s arms like she had been holding herself together for too long and had finally been given permission to fall apart.

"She called me a bitch, Leo!"

Her voice shattered completely, the words breaking into sobs as they left her. Her fingers clutched at his shirt, gripping tight, as though letting go would mean losing the only thing holding her steady.

"She’s trying to cut us out!" she cried, her breath hitching violently between each word. "She’s using the company trouble as an excuse to keep me under her thumb just like Mother did!"

The accusation poured out of her, tangled with hurt, with anger, with something deeper that had been building long before today.

Leo didn’t interrupt. He didn’t rush her. He simply held her.

One hand moved slowly through her red hair, smoothing it back in a gesture that felt practiced... almost rehearsed.

But his expression changed and darkened.

His jaw tightened slightly, the softness in his face sharpening into something colder, something more deliberate. His eyes, usually calm and comforting, even shifted into something else entirely.

Something that was watched. Measured.

Calculated. "She’s overwhelmed, Amira," he said at last, his voice low, steady, carefully controlled. Not dismissing. Not agreeing.

Positioning. "But she has no right to treat you like a second-class citizen." His hand paused briefly against her hair, then resumed its slow, soothing motion.

The words sank in. Not loud. Not forceful. But precise. Designed to settle somewhere deep.

"To make you feel small like that..." he continued, quieter now, almost thoughtful, "after everything you’ve done... after everything you’ve given..."

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. Amira’s grip on him tightened. Because she filled in the rest herself.

Leo’s gaze shifted slightly, unfocused for just a second as though he were already thinking ahead, already moving pieces into place.

"Don’t worry," he murmured. Soft. Certain. Dangerously reassuring. "We’ll get what belongs to you." Not ask. Not wait. Get.

And the way he said it. It didn’t sound like comfort. It sounded like a plan already in motion.