Stand & Watch It Burn

By Lexie Lea

When Elizabeth Maddox is thrown into the corporate world after losing her father she soon realizes the hardest thing about betrayal is that it doesn't always come from your enemies. Secrets are uncovered as she dives deeper into her father's death and immerses herself as the new CEO at Centurion Inc. Her first day on the job reveals the biggest bet

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lexie Lea
• Release date: Feb 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781088025901

Lexie Lea

Lexie Lea is a Licensed Professional Counselor in Oklahoma and in training for psychedelic-assisted therapy. She works in a private practice setting to help clients with trauma and self-worth. Lexie spends her time outside of work writing fiction and self-help books. Be sure to catch her upcoming self-help book: Gremlins & Goats: Shedding Shame.

Book preview

STAND & WATCH IT BURN

Ashes

Lexie Lea

To my younger self: YOU DID IT

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my friends and family for believing this was all possible and giving me support along this journey. Without their support this would not have happened.

Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limi- ted to all we know and understand, while imagination embraces the enti- re world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.

-Albert Einstein

CHAPTER 1

Elizabeth Maddox was officially the new major shareholder of Centurion Inc. She had been in line to take over her father’s portion of shares, but she had no idea that she would be taking on the responsibility at such a young age. At 23 years old, she was freshly out of college. Her father had shown his disapproval of her studies given his expectations of her to takeover the company, but he had smiled and congratulated her genuinely both times as she walked across the stage.

Her heart ached at the thought of him. She couldn’t believe he was ac- tually gone. Tears swelled and stung her eyes. It had only been 2 weeks since his funeral. He had been healthy and fit her entire life. He had even pressed his own values onto her growing up. They had done more than a handful of 5Ks together. He had been her rock when she lost her mother at 8 years old. If she were honest, he had probably leaned on her too much in his own grief. Certainly, they had their differences throughout the years, but they had been incredibly close for most of her life. It didn’t make sense that someone with such a force of life and healthy habits would die of a heart attack without warning. She hadn’t even known heart problems were in the family.

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she sobbed. It hurt so much. She just wanted to see him, to talk to him one last time. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her and tell her she was going to be ok like he had all of those nights after losing her mother. But she would never see those wise eyes or that loving smile ever again. She let out a soul wrenching sound and cried harder into her arms. She was alone in the world. An orphan. Both of her parents were gone now.

Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she slept between bouts of sobbing. The doorbell sounded repeatedly stirring her from her stupor. She barely had the energy to move from the bed, but the an- noyance of the doorbell motivated her heavy limbs to work. As she trud- ged towards the door, the bell continued ringing. A voice came from the other side Elle! Open up!

Ding dong!

Come on! Wake up and answer the door. I know you’re in there! Ding dong! Ding Dong!

I’m coming! I’m coming! Just stop with the ringing! Elizabeth shouted back as she made to unlock and open the door. On the other side of the door stood her best friend Kathleen Elmer. She stood at nearly six feet with long black hair that curled around her face. Her right arm was full of delicious smelling food coming from a paper bag. She had somehow managed to hold a bottle of wine between the same fingers that were clutched around the paper sack. Her face held concerned determination and she didn’t speak for a moment. Instead, she stepped through the door to sit down the bottle and sack of food.

Elizabeth shut the door behind her and followed Kathleen into the kit- chen. Once she emptied her hands she turned around and embraced her friend. There were several moments before words were exchanged.

How are you holding up?

Elizabeth tried to open her mouth in response, but found her breath to be taken away by tears once again.

I’m so sorry, Elle. I don’t know what to say. I just can’t believe— Kathleen cut herself off. She couldn’t finish her sentence.

He’s gone. Elizabeth finished it in her mind.

She tried taking deep breaths to stop from crying. She wasn’t sure how she had any more tears to cry. Her body was likely extremely dehydrated from all of the crying and sleeping she had done over the last two and a half weeks. After several more minutes had passed, Elizabeth took a deep breath and pulled herself out of Kathleen’s arms You brought food?

I did. Kathleen dug her arm into the sack and pulled out several circu- lar containers. Your favorite: ribeye with mushroom sauce and loaded mashed potatoes and molten chocolate lava cake, which I suggest eating while it’s all hot and gooey. I also brought a bottle of pinot noir.

Elizabeth smiled gratefully at her friend you’re the best.

I know was all she responded with as she plopped a mound of ice cream on top of the cake. She pulled out a couple of spoons and handed one to Elizabeth. Now dig in before it gets cold.

At first, they avoided any talk of death or parents or any bad happenings around the world, but by the time they opened up bottle number 3, me-

mories began flowing. Kathleen had been Elizabeth’s friend since third grade. They met shortly before she had lost her mother.

Yes! You were wearing that Timon and Pumba outfit and were so upset that I spilled chocolate milk on you! Kathleen laughed fondly at the memory

I can’t believe you remember things like that. I have zero recollection of that happening. Though I do remember that being one of my favorite out- fits. Elizabeth popped the cork out of the bottle and refilled their glas- ses.

You sure did love your Disney movies. Kathleen rolled her eyes. She had never really been into Disney or fairytales or anything supernatural. As adults, they had very little in common.

Still do.

Elizabeth took a breath and sipped on her wine. She examined their lifel- ong friendship. They were so different from each other. Kathleen was tall with a muscular build. A stark difference from Elizabeth’s stature at 5’4 with a slender build. She had tried to put on muscle over the years, but it was a difficult journey. Kathleen had dark defiant eyes that matched her personality well. Two more contrasts to Elizabeth’s bright green eyes and people-pleasing personality. It was a rarity for Elizabeth to break the ru- les or question authority, but Kathleen had made it somewhat of a chal- lenge to press buttons and push boundaries. They also didn’t share the same beliefs on politics, religion, or children. It was a wonder their fri- endship remained in tact for so long. Elizabeth wondered if they would be friends had they met within the last year, as adults. She voiced her question.

Kathleen quirked an eyebrow. Why? Because we’re so different? I mean yeah, pretty much.

I don’t know. I’d like to say yes, because I know you as my best friend. Kathleen took a long sip from her glass. I think that’s the great thing about our friendship. We don’t have to have the same opinions to love each other.

I agree. Elizabeth smiled.

It was quiet for a moment before Kathleen broke the silence. So have they talked to you about taking over your father’s business?

Elizabeth breathed deeply before answering. I’m supposed to go in on Monday to sign papers and get the whole run down.

What are you going to do? Do you even know how to run a business that size? I mean, no offense, but you’re 23 years old. You just finished your Master’s degrees and it has nothing to do with business.

I have no idea. My father always talked about me taking over and he has explained what he does at least a million times, but I never thought it would be this soon. She breathed deeply again. It’s like I can remem- ber being in his office and him giving me the same lecture about how important it is to treat your customers well, but more importantly your employees. Then I try to think about what he told me he actually does on a day-to-day basis and I’m drawing a total blank. She paused drinking from her wine glass. I spent hours and hours in that office up until I left for college and it’s like every bit of knowledge of how to run the compa- ny has disappeared from my brain. The young woman sat down her em- pty glass. The beating in her chest quickened and her ears began to ring. I don’t know how to run a multi-million dollar company. I was lucky to have made it through grad school. I can’t do this Kat. I’m not smart en- ough. I have zero people skills. I just finished school to be a nutritionist. What the hell is wrong with me?

By the end of her rant, she was sobbing again. Kathleen scooped her into her arms and held her wordlessly. They sat like that on the couch while a new wave of emotions took over her.

He wasn’t supposed to do this to me. He was supposed to stay and be here for me. He left me and I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do.

It’s ok. You’re going to get through this. It’s ok. Kathleen whispered comforting words and held her friend close.

I want to be so mad at him for leaving, but all I can do is hurt and cry. It hurts so much. I can’t fucking stand it. It’s not fair. I don’t understand.

They sat together for a long time. Kathleen allowed Elizabeth to release her pain onto her shoulders in the form of tears. It was all she could do. She hated to see her friend hurting again.

I don’t know how I’m going to do this. Elizabeth whispered.

One day at a time.

…

On Monday morning, Elizabeth woke with her heart pounding. She couldn’t remember her dream exactly, but she could feel the emotional distress in her chest. The back of her neck was slick with sweat making her hair cling to her skin. She didn’t want to do this. Going to the office and signing those documents meant he was really gone and never coming back. She wasn’t ready for that kind of forced closure.

She didn’t have a choice.

If she didn’t sign those papers she would be forfeiting her share. Sure, she could get a lot of money for it and not have to deal with the stress of running a company, but she couldn’t do that to her father’s memory. He wanted this for her. He had built an empire with the idea that one day it would be hers.

One day.

Far into the future. Maybe when she was closer to 50 not 23.

But one day was today and she had no choice whether she wanted this or not. She wouldn’t let her father down. With a sense of resolve, Elizabeth threw the covers off of herself and got out of the bed. She was in need of a hot shower to clean the sweat and tears from her skin.

By 7:30, Elizabeth was clean, dressed, and a writhing ball of anxiety. Her stomach twisted in knots and her heart seemed as if it would never return to a normal pace. She skipped breakfast and coffee. A stimulant was the last thing her body needed.

The path to the downtown office was familiar, but it brought her no com- fort. She had made this drive a hundred times, but this time it felt diffe- rent. Empty. She pulled into her designated parking spot, or rather her father’s, and her insides twisted tighter. She was going to vomit.

Just breathe Elizabeth. Breathe. She encouraged herself and pulled in a breath through her nose, filling up her lungs to full capacity and blowing it out through her mouth hard. She repeated this five more times before she got out of her SUV.

Miss Maddox, the receptionist at the front desk couldn’t have been much younger than her. She had her hair pulled back into a low bun with large round glasses framing her eyes I’m so sorry for your loss.

Elizabeth averted her eyes and muttered a thanks.

Your meeting is being held in Conference Room C on level 8.

She repeated her thanks and made for the elevators. The sound of her heels on the floor was loud in her ears. The elevator dinged as it arrived and she stepped in. Her heart raced with every passing second. Once she reached the eighth floor the elevator dinged once more and she stepped out onto the lobby. It was much more active than the main level. People dressed in business attire carrying various stacks of documents milled around chatting to one another heading into different lettered doors. She didn’t see any familiar faces among them. It felt strange. She remembe- red a time when she could recognize at least a few faces. She made a left and passed several people sitting in rooms with open doors along the way. The people still drifting into rooms looked at her with curious eyes, but said nothing. One older woman did a double take of her and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead she gave Elizabeth a sad look and continued on her way.

When she opened the door to Conference Room C three men wearing suits were already there waiting for her. She recognized all three. The man on the far left wore a dark grey suit with a yellow tie. His face was aged and what little hair he had left had turned white. Despite his age, he had always been full of life. Today, however, he seemed as if that life had been drained from him. His smile did not quite reach his eyes. He was grieving, too. Mister Ford Chesney had been Elizabeth’s father’s attorney for as long as she could remember. He and her father had been very close friends for a long time. The professional relationship had seemed to all but dissolve.

He stood from his chair when she entered. The others followed suit. Elizabeth, he moved to embrace her. It’s good to see you. I just wish it were under better circumstances. How are you holding up?

I’m here. She tried to smile, but couldn’t force the muscles in her face to work properly.

The other two men stood in wait. The man on Elizabeth’s right wore a black pinstriped suit with a grey tie to match the pinstripes. His hair was perfectly combed and gelled to the side of his head and his beard was

impeccably manicured. Elizabeth wagered his nails were also just as per- fectly trimmed and buffed. She had only met Thomas Warner a handful of times, but she did remember always being surprised at how well he presented himself.

Mister Warner was the third major shareholder of Centurion. He owned 21% of the company. She didn’t remember ever having much opinion of the man. He was normally quiet around her and spoke very softly the times he did speak. He shook her hand and offered her his condolences.

The third man was Brian McGregor, the second major shareholder of her father’s company. He bought his shares of the company when Elizabeth turned 16. She only remembered this because he had a son around her age whom had both ruined her birthday dinner that night. She didn’t want to go back into the memory. It was so long ago and she may have beha- ved like a spoiled 16 year old at the time.

She shook his hand as well and wondered what these three men must think of her. They had been in business longer than she had been alive and here she was about to sign papers to own 54% of her father’s com- pany.

After the pleasantries were exchanged Ford pulled out a chair for her at the head of the table and she took a seat. Her heart thrummed in her throat. She bit back the nausea, feeling a bit paranoid they could feel the anxiety radiating from her. She felt like a child in their presence and the last time she had seen them all like this she had still been a child. Of course, she didn’t think she was a child at 16, but looking back on it now, as childlike and ignorant to the ways of business woulds as she was, she most certainly felt small and childish amongst these men.

Lets go ahead and get started shall we?

The stack of papers on the table was at least an inch thick. Several colo- red tabs stuck out from the side to what Elizabeth assumed were signatu- re lines. Ford pulled the stack at him and began to read.

"We are here today to discuss the last will and testament of Edward Ma- ddox. In Mr. Maddox’s will he has designated his daughter Elizabeth Maddox as the sole beneficiary of all of his shares. Miss Maddox retains all rights to attend and vote at meetings and all other responsibilities pre- viously held by Mr. Maddox. No pre-emption rights have been permitted. We have with us today Miss Elizabeth Maddox, the sole beneficiary, Mr. Thomas Warner, who holds 21 percent of Centurion Inc., and Mr. Brian

McGregor, who holds 25 percent of Centurion. Both Mr. Warner and Mr. McGregor are here to bear witness to the transfer of shares from Mr. Ma- ddox to Miss Maddox. Miss Maddox will hold 54 percent of the compa- ny. He looked up from his papers for a moment. We will discuss per- sonal assets after everything has been signed here so these gentlemen can get back to their day. He looked back at his papers and opened them to a tab. Miss Maddox can you please sign here."

Mr. Chesney took her through a series of pointing at blank lines on pa- per and asking her to either sign, date or initial them. At the end of the stack he had her sign and date one last time then looked up to the other two gentlemen who signed as witnesses. They were wordless until the end, offering their condolences once more before departing.

CHAPTER 2

After they left, Mr. Chesney read the personal will. Elizabeth would in- herit everything as her father had been an only child along with herself. She never had a relationship with her grandparents on either side. As far as she knew, they were alive, but their names did not appear in the do- cuments. Nor had they shown for the funeral. She wondered if her father even had any contact with them when he was still alive. Surely, they knew he had passed.

With one final flourish of the pen it was over.

The estate, cars, money and business were all hers. She was a millionai- re, but all of it felt empty. Her father had never been very extravagant with his money and had taught her the same values. She remembered being resentful towards her father when she hadn’t gotten the fancier car on her 16th birthday. He gave her a lecture about money when she dared to cry about it to him.

Once the papers were signed, Mr. Chesney switched from professional to family friend. He gave her a long look. How are you, dear?

She didn’t answer immediately. She wasn’t sure how to answer. I’m not sure.

You’re going to do great. Your dad was great at what he did. He built this company from the ground up and he wasn’t much younger than you when he started. You’ve got his blood in you. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it in no time. His smile didn’t reach his eyes once again. He looked like he wanted to say more. Elizabeth, there’s something I need to tell you about your father’s company. I never really understood why he kept it from you for all of these years, especially since he planned for you to take over some day. He paused with the same concerned look on his face. I guess the why doesn’t matter now. You should sit back down.

She did. The storm in her stomach had started to calm, but now it began building again, reading the tension on his face. He sat down beside her and seemed to be measuring whether or not she could handle what he was about to tell her.

"The truth is I’m not even sure if I’m the right person to tell you this, but seeing as there is no one else, I guess that makes me just as good as an-

yone. I’ve known you ever since you were in diapers. He paused and swallowed. Well, here it goes. Your father was a witch. Centurion is a company that provides for both the magical community and non-magical community. The parts he has shown you obviously have been non-magi- cal only. Your mother was a witch, but she had all but stopped practicing when she was pregnant with you. That’s probably a story for another time though. The point is, being that your father and mother were wit- ches, that makes you a witch by blood. I don’t know if your parents did something to bind your magic, but likely since you’re taking over your father’s company you’re going to need to figure out a way to unbind it so you can run it properly. There are some folks in your father’s company who don’t think it’s right that you takeover. That you’re underserving and they want to see you fail. If they ever find out you haven’t known about magic for all of these years I reckon they might try a hostile take- over. Do you understand what I’m saying? Your father was like a brother to me. So I’m going to help you in anyway that I can to make this ad- justment, but you need to make sure you don’t tell anyone you never knew about magic until today. You don’t know who to trust that with yet, especially not Warner or McGregor. Elizabeth, do you hear what I’m say- ing?"

He spoke so quickly his words were difficult to register. She worked hard trying to absorb the absurd information.

I’m sorry. What? Witches? What are you talking about Ford?

He responded with a sense of urgency while at the same time trying to be gentle and grabbed her hands. Your father is a witch. He is a magical being, like you.

I don’t understand why you’re saying this. Is this some kind of joke? Other emotions bubbled in her stomach. Anger. Confusion. Disbelief. Why would he say those things? It wasn’t funny. She was grieving her father’s death and he was making a joke of it.

Elizabeth, I’m sure this is hard for you to process, but it’s all very real and not a joke. He released his hands from hers and pulled back. His eyes glanced at the closed doors. Watch.

He lifted his hand over the stack of papers sitting in front of him and muttered something under his breath. The page on top lifted away from the stack and floated up into the air. It began folding in on itself at diffe- rent angles until it took the shape of a butterfly. It fluttered around the room. Its paper wings flapping was the only sound in the room.

Elizabeth swallowed and stared, but didn’t speak. It had to be some kind of trick with wires or a hologram or a new kind of technology she didn’t know existed. As much as she had always been interested in the superna- tural, magic didn’t actually exist. None of it was actually real.

But she could not deny what was literally right in front of her face.

The butterfly danced in front of her as if telling her look at me. I’m real. She swallowed again and could feel her eyebrows furrowing, try- ing to comprehend the situation. Ford was quiet as she processed it all, allowing her time to take it in. She reached her hand out to touch the mo- ving paper in front of her. It landed on her outstretched hand. Its wings moved slowly back and forth as if it were a living creature and not me- rely made of paper, though it had just been a bit of paper only seconds before. She could even see the print Will and Testament on one of its wings.

How is this real? She whispered. Why would he keep this from me?

Elizabeth dropped her hand and the butterfly flew back to its original destination and returned to nothing more than a slip of legal documenta- tion. She didn’t know what to say or how to comprehend it all. She knew taking over her father’s company would be hard and new, but this? This couldn’t be real. She had to be dreaming or something.

I know it’s a lot to take in and I wish there were more time to explain it all and time for you to absorb everything. I need you to be brave Eliza- beth. There are going to be a lot of meetings today and all next week to catch you up on everything and show you what your father did and you’re going to have to pretend like you’ve known magic has existed your entire life.

Why? I don’t understand why everything is a secret. Her heart was racing again and another wave of nausea was flowing into her throat full of acidic bile.

I have reason to believe your father’s death was not by accident. What do you mean not by accident? He died of a heart attack.

I think it was a cover up. I believe your father was murdered. And I’m worried your life may be in danger, too.

What? Murdered? By who? Why would my life—?

"I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to take in and I’m going to do my best to ex- plain everything to you, but right now I need you to listen very closely and do exactly as I say. In five minutes, 7 of your father’s top business managers are going to walk through that door to update you on progress and explain your new role. Magic will be involved. Don’t look surprised. Take it all in. Absorb it. Don’t make any decisions today. If they ask you any questions just tell them you’re still grieving