Arthur walked over to his son, placing a heavy, warm hand on Ethan's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Ethan," Arthur said softly. "I wished I was wrong about her."
Ethan took a deep breath, wiping a single stray tear from his cheek before looking up at his father.
"You were trying to protect the family, Dad," Ethan said, his voice filled with newfound maturity. "I was too blind to see who was standing in the shadows."
"The lens doesn't lie, son," Arthur said gently, turning toward the window overlooking the city sky. "People can weave narratives, manufacture tears, and stage scenes. But when the light shines from above, the truth remains untouched."
Ethan nodded, reaching out to grip his father's hand. Together, father and son stood by the window as the city lights flickered on—ready to face tomorrow's board meeting not as victims of a trap, but as leaders who had walked through the fire and emerged unbroken.