Quinn Mansion.  Los Angeles, California.

"Good morning."

Fergal glances up once and brief, but just long enough to catch a glimpse of Annette dressed as casually as ever, in a light pink blouse matching her white pants and her black cardigan, light brown hair pulled up into a neat, gorgeous bun. Fergal returns his mother's greeting with barely a hint of the cheerful smile plastered on Annette's face. His eyes resumes swiftly skimming through the pages of the business newspaper until he finds the specific page he wants.

"This." He folds the newspaper delicately in half, the preferred page and its news glinting in small neat words on the front, the headline in bold letters. He drags the paper across smooth, polished wooden surface to his mother's side of the table, tapping on the headline a second time. "Read this."

Annette quirks an eyebrow at him in concern but if Fergal had been smiling even a little, she would've guessed right away whatever on the page isn't bad news. Well, only partly. "'Quinn Media Empire's stocks peaked at an all time high last night,'" Annette reads the headline out loud, her smile turning impossibly more radiant. "This is the best news I've received today and it isn't even nine."

"Read the entire page, mom."

Annette frowns while Fergal takes a sip of his coffee, his calmness betraying nothing. Setting her napkin on the table, Annette clutches the newspaper in both hands and begins to read thoroughly, intently. Her smile begins to fade. She looks up at her son, chagrined. "We were a tie."

Fergal gives the barest of nods, already digging a fork into his plate of fruits while the other hand still grips the cup of coffee to draw what little warmth the hot liquid can offer to his cold fingers. "That newspaper is quite new and inexperienced. The headline at the front page should've been; 'Quinn Media Empire looks to be selling and their competition might be the reason.' I would've done a better job but as it stands our name is the only thing which can draw readers to their newspaper hence the poor and misleading headline."

Annette's attention looks to be too distant to acknowledge Fergal's mocking tone. "This can't be. They are barely three year old. Unless. . . ."

"Mr. Robinson resigned last night. It isn't a coincidence their stocks peaked right about the same week he did. He has bought some of their stocks. He has betrayed us."

Annette curses, "That traitor." Despite her palpable fury, she sets the newspaper rather calmly on the table, fingers toying with the end of her tablespoon, idly swirling the black liquid in her cup. "I should've fired him a long time ago. He has worked by my side for far too long, seen too much. He knows how I work, how we operate. He is going to reveal our secrets to our rival. Damn him."

"I've said this a million times already but you refuse to consider my proposal," Fergal accuses, munching on a small piece of watermelon. "I'm well aware you hate to appear weak mom, but it's either we sell or merge. Our stocks peaked at an impressive number last night. This will be the perfect time for us to sell to an interested buyer or we could very well merge with one of the communication companies in China. One of them contacted me last month. He was highly interested in the company and was willing to negotiate with our terms in mind. We can't get a better offer than that."

"We have investors to consider and stakeholders to please. It's not that easy, Fergal." Annette lifts a hand to stop a maid from filling her empty glass with mango juice, opting for water instead. "We've to please them so they don't invest or buy stocks anywhere else like Mr. Robinson has done. We have to keep them at our side no matter what. Besides, it's as you first stated. Selling the company will appear as an act of resignation and defeat to our rival, at least that's how I see it. A blemish I don't want on our family name."

Fergal rolls his eyes. Whether in disagreement or boredom over hearing the 'family name' over and over again since last week, Annette can't decide but prefers not to dwell on it as she takes a sip of her tea. "Then let's merge. The company is irrelevant to us now. We have much more important businesses to take of and Mr. Robinson has showed us, we can't trust anyone with it and neither do we have the time to take care of it ourselves. It will be beneficial in the long-term. China is set on developing and upgrading in every key sector. Partnering up with them at this time is very wise. A future with them looks promising and a clever way to beat our rivals out of the water."

Annette objects with a small shake of her head, "China may stab us in the back. Too smart and cunning and you very well know how they feel about the US. It's risky."

"Let's think about that later," Fergal smiles for the first time that morning, assuring and firm. "The easier way is to sell it to them. We get our money, business is done. But smart and cunning people are what we need to prevent reoccurring incidents like what happened a few months ago at the fashion company. The hackers, remember?"

Annette waves a hand, dismissing the matter and taking a sip of her water. "That was already taken care off. We prevented the worst from happening and I'm sure whoever tried it won't be attempting it ever again."

"I'm sorry mom, but I don't share your confidence. They called and threatened Ashley. They threatened you. We better not overestimate ourselves. The second attempt might be disastrous and irreparable. We need a team of experts to deal with such cases. I've personally arranged for it. They will help protect our valuable information from hackers and entering a partnership with China will help further solidify our shield against our potential enemies."

Annette smiles. The kind of smile she saves only for her loved ones. The kind of smile which tells you she's utterly proud of something. A kind of smile Fergal had once toiled to gain, but after all these years and the numerous mysteries he's eager to unravel, Fergal now finds that smile somewhat troubling and only a fuel for the deeper resentment he never knew would grow in his heart someday. "I'm so proud of you, Fergal. It was not a waste at all to teach you. You always think ahead, just like me. I hate admitting these things but I must accept, you're much smarter than me now. I taught you well."

Fergal doesn't reply. He eats his fruits in silence, listening to nothing more than the feeble sounds of the maids' footsteps as some hurry up the stairs to clean the rooms while the other two hover around them at the dinning table, alert for any new command.

Annette unceremoniously dismisses the maids when Fergal is halfway through his breakfast, his cup of coffee long empty and cold. The maids quickly disappear to the kitchen and after, Fergal can barely even recall one of them was standing right behind him a moment ago.

Just like how he'd completely forgotten to call Mercedes again this morning after leaving countless calls and text messages on her phone last night to no avail. Mentally cursing, he makes a note to call her right after breakfast but then recalls all that transpired between him and Mercedes's friend last night. Even now, he can't prevent the swell of anger which sweeps through him as he reminisce the incident. But the anger quells down as he recalls some of the things she'd shrieked to his face.

". . . . you refuse to let her go even after she told you she no longer loves you."

"She's scared you will fire her. . . ."

"She doesn't love you."

The harsh words sounds too loud in his head, as though Mercedes's friend, Pamela, is standing right beside him, yelling the statements into his ear. He'd ignored thinking about it last night for he had much more worrying things to think about but now all he can ponder, is why Mercedes's friend will tell him all those things in the first place. It had been clear last night she hated him with a passion and at this moment, the feeling is completely mutual. But it will be foolish to summarize her words as nothing more than empty, spiteful threats simply fueled by her lack of acceptance of him for her friend and her anger at him for bluntly accusing her place of work.

She'd said too much, given him too much words to run through his head but he finds nothing sensible or believable in anything Pamela had said. Something doesn't add up.

"I can't remember the last time we had breakfast like this. It's nice." Annette's eyes glitters with fond memories. Memories Fergal finds himself forgetting with each passing year against his betterment. "I remember back in the day when Leon was alive. The table used to be served with all kinds of food, too plenty for a mere breakfast and a family of four. Leon often used to say breakfast is the most important meal of the day and although I never agreed, I can't deny I always looked forward to the mornings due to the time we will spend together as a family. I wish we can have breakfast like that, Fergal. With you here with us at the mansion."

"There's no use still honoring something conjured up by. . . . a ghost at this point." Fergal busies himself with filling up his cup with fresh, warm coffee to avoid looking at his mother. It's always much easier when the only conversation they have is business related, not when she steers it to their family issues. "Father is gone. I'm no longer a child. I have a company to run, others to oversee, a personal life to nurture. I need my own space. I need privacy. It's like you said once upon a time when I begged you to remove me from the board members because I couldn't see myself filling the shoes father had left behind. You said and I quote,'you need to grow up, Fergal. You need to be a man.' I am a man now. I've grown up just like you asked. I can take Rebecca's complaints. Not yours."

Annette looks like she'd been stung. "Your father always knew how to balance between family and work. . . ."

Fergal snorts, "Father never cared about building an empire. You did. He prioritized family over everything else. He didn't even care who was going to be his heir and successor. Father never cared about the company. While all you cared about was everything and anything business. You were the one who told me I should never bow to anyone. That I should never let anyone trample over me. That preserving the name and the empire my father left behind is greater and more significant than anything else. That's what I've always worked and toiled to safeguard. Our wealth, our name. Are you backtracking now, mom?"

Annette regards Fergal stonily, her free hand clenching into a fist on the table. "I never said you should distance yourself from our family. Don't blame your indifferent self on me. All I've done is try to keep you from drifting away from us. From me and your sister Rebecca."

"It's your fault I'm drifting away. Even afar, you still manage to control me. To keep me from doing what I view is right. Preventing me from investigating my father's death and humiliating my girlfriend last night are prime examples of why the two of us can't seem to get along nowadays. And speaking of Mercedes, what exactly happened after I went outside to receive a call? She rushed out of the party crying, obviously upset and the guests were all laughing behind her back when I entered. What did you do to her, mom?"

Annette, who was about to start eating her plate of omelette, drops the fork and leans back into her chair, glowering at him as she crosses her arms on her chest. "That girlfriend of yours again? How would I know what happened to her? She had a little confrontation with Catherine, not me."

"A little? She stormed out of the party crying. Didn't even mind her friend when she was calling her name and you call it little? What did that friend of yours do to her?"

"First of all, it wasn't Catherine's fault but your girlfriend's," Annette says defensively. "She stupidly bumped into Catherine's son, got a drink splashed on her gown, foolishly raised her voice at him and got squashed. You very well know how Catherine gets when someone insults her beloved son."

"Of course. That child of a man she calls a son. He probably splattered the drink on Mercedes and just like always that friend of yours wouldn't allow her son to take the blame. Who even introduced Catherine to Mercedes in the first place? Was it you, mom?" Annette doesn't answer. Fergal takes her silence as confirmation. "I knew it. And once again, everything is your fault."

"Don't blame me for the embarrassing situation your girlfriend got herself into last night. You shouldn't have even brought that low class girl into our conversation to begin with. She almost ruined the party. I swear, she isn't good for you, Fergal."

"You see?" Fergal bellows, hands gesturing around too animatedly for his nature. "Why can't you understand I'm in love? Why? Is it because you didn't choose her for me?"

"I didn't choose Jeff for Rebecca either but he managed to win me over in the end, although momentarily. Let's say after everything that scoundrel did to us, I'm simply being more careful with the strangers around me. The strangers you and Rebecca bring into this house. Nonetheless, I have a feeling your supposed girlfriend and I will never get along."

Fergal is incredulous. "Supposed?"

Annette grins, "Yes, supposed. You don't look like a man in love, Fergal. I know you and you're still as bitter and disinterested as ever. Ever heard the saying; 'when one is in love, the sky is bluer'?"

"That's only in the romantic novels," Fergal scoffs, finishing up the last bits of his fruits. "What Mercedes and I share is solely between us and only us. I don't expect you to understand. I've known her for three years and if she were only with me for my money as you believe, she would've accepted my proposal a long time ago. But she didn't. She only agreed to be my girlfriend a week back. She loves me and she isn't with me for my money."

"Oh," Annette exclaims knowingly, "that explains some things."

Fergal's irritation flares hotter, "Explains what?"

Annette shrugs, looking bored. "Love is love. Love is supposed to change a person. Bring an impact to a person's life that person has never experienced before. That's what I'm talking about. I see nothing in you Mercedes has changed. Absolutely nothing at all. Are you sure you aren't treating her like one of the hard deals you were able to conquer and win? A prize because you've chased after her for a long time and she's suddenly this wonderful thing which has never happened to you before? Are you even certain you're in love, Fergal?"

"Mom, stop it! That's enough."

Annette continues, reluctant to back down. "We have all kinds of love. Infatuation, lust, obsession, pity. People love in so many different ways but yet confuses it with true love. It's very common and in your case Fergal, it looks to be infatuation mixed in with obsession and maybe lust. Just like how you treat every other thing in your life; your obsession with your father's death, your company, your business deals. Everything has to be precise and perfect to you. Love isn't like that Fergal. You can't love someone until you start loving yourself. Just look at what happened to your sister."

Fergal appears baffled by the last part, "And what makes you assume I don't love myself?"

A maid approaching the table with a silver shoe in hand distracts both of them from their tensed exchange. Annette eyes the shoe as the maid comes to stand beside her, "Isn't that Rebecca's?"

"Yes, ma'am. We found it near the gazebo. We can't find the other one," the maid answers, handing the shoe to Annette.

Annette inspects the shoe carefully, "This is Rebecca's. What was it doing lying near the gazebo?" She takes one last inspection and hands it back to the maid. "Throw it away. There's no use having only one pair."

"Where's Rebecca?" Fergal inquires the minute the maid scurries away, forgetting their argument from a while back.

Annette slides her untouched plate of omelette to her right and snatches up an apple from the tray in the middle of the large table, gingerly slicing it into measurable pieces for eating. "Have no idea. Ash refused to say anything when I asked. The gazebo was especially lively last night. Rebecca must've ran off with her new boyfriend to there forsaking the party. She didn't sleep in the house either so she must be with him."

Fergal's lips pauses midway of drinking his coffee. His voice is muffled when he, completely stunned, asks, "Rebecca has a boyfriend?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

Fergal stares at Annette as if he's suddenly seeing two visions of her. "How can she have a boyfriend?"

His mother's look makes him feel stupid and rightly so. His question is gullible. "The same way you have a girlfriend." 'Too much patience', she's playing with him, that much Fergal is very well aware of and he isn't particularly in the right mood for it. "She's in love. Oh, speak of the devil."

Rebecca stops just short of climbing up the staircase to her room at her mother's voice, swerving over to the dinning area instead. She waves a little at Fergal who has a disbelieving look fixed on her before striding over to her mother's side, greeting her warmly. "Good morning." Annette rises to hug her quickly and kiss her cheek. "Look who's having breakfast with you this morning, mom."

"Indeed, the earth is flat," Annette teases back. Fergal rolls his eyes in response. "Where have you been? You didn't sleep in the house last night."

"I was at the hospital."

Annette's eyes widen. Fergal's eyes snaps to attention. "Weren't you feeling well?"

"A little bit last night," Rebecca admits. "But I'm fine. I think it was just exhaustion from the party and everything which has been going on but it isn't the reason for which I was at the hospital. Colby's mother got injured so I had to be there for him last night."

"Oh. What happened to her?"

"Thieves broke into the house and things got a bit messy," Rebecca tells Annette with a sigh. "I'll tell you more later while I cook. You aren't going to the company today, are you?"

Annette nods, stroking her hair tenderly. "I'm not. I've taken a week off so I might as well add another. Fergal will be there to take care of things and Ashley can very well handle things on her own. She's more than capable. Besides, this week is your father's death anniversary so it's only fitting I take a break."

Rebecca nods, eyes briefly distant before they jeer back to Annette, suddenly recalling something important. "Ash isn't gone from the mansion, is she? Tell me she isn't."

"Rebecca, you know Ashley doesn't like living at the mansion. She left this morning and don't you dare scold me. I tried to convince her to stay, even for a little longer. I always do."

"I know, mom." Rebecca agrees despite her disappointment. "This mansion is big but so empty sometimes. Anyways, I'll go grab a quick shower. Save me some coffee. I'm afraid it will be the only thing I'll have. I have to rush back to the hospital as soon as possible." Rebecca leaves briskly by the stairs up to her room, unaware of Fergal's heated gaze following her like a shadow.

"Don't you dare quarrel with your sister over her new boyfriend," Annette warns once she has sat back down, eyeing Fergal. "Let your sister be. She has a boyfriend. So? It isn't like the end of the world is a second from now."

Fergal's look is murderous but Annette barely flinches under it. "How can you be so calm and accepting of this? Just last week she was on the verge of killing herself because Jeff was getting married to another woman and the next week she's in love and has a boyfriend? What's going on in this mansion?"

"Say whatever you want, it doesn't matter in the slightest. She's happy. Couldn't you see she was literally glowing last night? She was so calm and composed in front of all those guests at the party and it's because of him. I don't know whoever this Colby is and frankly speaking, I don't care. Your sister seems happy with him and by luck and hope, she might start taking her medication and heath seriously precisely because of him."

"And you think that's reason enough to accept this foolishness?" Fergal retorts unkindly. "She's going to depend on another man for her mere happiness and survival like she did with Jeff? She's going to make him the center of her universe, take her medicines because of him, start painting because of him, laugh because of him and when he abandons her, she's going to lose the very reason she wanted to make her life better in the first place and then what? We will be back to square one with her grieving and trying to kill herself. This is nothing short of stupidity and I can't believe you above all people isn't questioning this."

"This Colby will never leave your sister. I'll make sure of it," Annette declares.

"What are you planning to do, mom?" Fergal asks a bit worriedly, his posture losing some of its tenseness.

Annette smirks, popping a slice of apple into her mouth. "Nothing that should be of your concern, my dearest."

Fergal stares at his mother for a long while, no doubt trying to gauge what her ominous smile is all about but when he finds nothing of particular interests, he resigns and pacifies himself with only his assumptions. "Whatever you're planning to do, make sure it doesn't affect Rebecca in any way which will make her problems worse than they already were."

"Wow, so touching," Annette coos dramatically, adding a series of short claps for better effect. "How refreshing. Rebecca should see you like this. It will definitely clear any doubt from her mind that you don't care about her. You should act more like this when she's around, not with me."

Fergal brushes his mother's mocking off with a sigh and makes it to his feet, "Rebecca doesn't understand anything I do these days so why bother? Nevertheless, who wishes to order a coffin for their sister? No one." While Annette nods solemnly in agreement, Fergal's eyes travel up to the stairs where a servant is struggling to manage carrying two heavy bags all by himself. "Be careful with that. Here," Fergal takes the relatively smaller bag from him and gestures to the bigger one, "take this to the car. I'll bring the other one myself."

"You're leaving already," asks Annette unsurprisingly, already knowing the answer.

Fergal grabs his coat from the nearest chair beside his, wraps it over his arm and retrieves his wallet and phone from the table. "Wouldn't like to have an argument with Rebecca, would we? She probably doesn't want me here anyway and I've no interest in staying either. The party and the whole fiasco is over. Read the New York Times while you are at it, mom. We are on the front page. Again. Have a good day."

Before he can even make it to the entrance of the mansion, Rebecca's shout of his name halts him. She races down the stairs, practically bouncing off of it, all energetic. Once she reaches him, she throws her arms around his neck, clutching him tightly, pure excitement radiating out of her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she sings, swaying him this way and that. She pulls back to hold the papers in her grasp at his face, smiling widely. Fergal is dazed. "You bought my gallery back. This is the best gift you have ever given me. I was afraid I had to buy a new one from somewhere else. I have so many memories with that place and I was beginning to regret ever selling it. Thank you so much, Fergal. How did you manage it though?"

Despite the daze which had swamped over him a moment ago, Fergal manages to quickly recover, his unreadable expression returning. "Money talks. Quite a waste though, isn't it? All that hard work but for nothing. I would've saved myself the stress if I knew what you were up to."

Rebecca frowns, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard you have a boyfriend." Rebecca's gaze flits to her mother, who already looks on the brink of getting up and slapping Fergal across the face like she had the night Rebecca returned home.

Rebecca sighs nonchalantly, "What does me having a boyfriend got to do with the gallery?"

"It has everything to do with it, my dear sister because here I was, assuming you were serious to get your life back on track but it seems I was wrong. You're committing the same mistake you made with Jeff. Making a man the center of your world."

Rebecca chuckles spitefully, "We can't have a simple conversation without arguing, can we? I just came here to thank you for buying my gallery back for me. If you're looking for someone to argue with, you missed. I'm not in the mood Fergal so please, save me the headache this early morning."

"You never like to hear the truth, do you?" Fergal presses, stopping Rebecca in her tracks. "What happened to getting your life back together? What happened to the new beginning? You were inconsolable just a week ago, ruined the wedding of your former fiancé who completely embarrassed you in front of the world, tried to kill yourself and now you're in love? Again? Is it stupidity or just pure desperation for someone to love you because you think you can't move forward otherwise?"

"What's your problem, Fergal?" Rebecca spins back and yells, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

Fergal's eyes turns steel, "My problem is that your life has been a mess for the past two years and just as I thought you're going to focus on finding yourself, establishing your life and finally setting everything on track I was proven wrong. You're going to give your life to a man, lose yourself in the process and once things don't work out, you'll try to kill yourself again and we will be the ones to suffer the consequences of your actions."

Rebecca looks hurt, "I know you think I'm a burden Fergal, a pain in the neck, nothing but a problem for you and I know I've been that and more for the past few years. But I was serious when I said I was going to fix my life. I am going to fix my life."

"Oh you are? Well, I don't see it and frankly speaking, I don't trust you. You're just going to run after a man who is going to hurt you again." He leans in close to whisper menacingly, "When are you going to understand that you need to find yourself before you even think of giving your entire life to someone? When are you going to make your life about you, your happiness about you and not others? You don't need a man to feel good or appreciative about yourself, Rebecca. When are you going to learn that?"

"I have learnt that!"

"You haven't!!" Fergal screams back.

"I have." Rebecca is on the brink of tears.

"Oh really?" Fergal carelessly tosses his things away to the marble flooring and it's a sheer miracle his phone landed on the soft material of his coat instead of the hard floor. With quick five strides to the living area, he yanks up the telephone from the receiver, makes it back to Rebecca's side before the latter can even think about what's happening. Grabbing Rebecca's hand, Fergal thrusts the telephone into her hand and orders, "Press two. You want me to believe you're serious huh? Then go ahead. Call the doctor. Schedule an appointment. You're going to go back to your room, get dressed and after, we are heading straight for the hospital. I'm taking you to see the doctor myself." Rebecca doesn't budge, uncontrollable tears spilling free down her cheeks. Fergal grows agitated. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead. Call the doctor. Let's see how serious you are. Book that appointment and I promise I'm going to leave everything today. Forget about the meetings. You want my attention, Rebecca? You have it. Make it count because you won't be able to be with your new boyfriend if you're dead. Do you know what's going to happen if you die today?"

"Fergal, stop it. It's too early."

Fergal continues as if his mother hadn't spoken at all. "He's going to come for the funeral, mourn you for a few days and the next month, he'll be getting married to another woman!"

Rebecca angrily hurls the telephone away, straight past Fergal where it meets contact with a statue, fortunately avoiding it smashing into pieces. She brushes away furious, hot tears from her cheeks and glares death at him. "Colby isn't like that. You know nothing, Fergal. He's the one who saved me in case mom forgot to add that. Unlike you who chose sealing a deal for his company over his dying sister in the hospital, he ran after me through rain and uncertainty when he didn't even know my name. Didn't give up on me when the first thing I did was to tell him to leave instead of thanking him for saving my life. He loves me and he has made me understand that I need to love me for me. That everything isn't as bleak as I often think it is. He's the best thing to happen to me in a long while and yes, I do need him to stay happy. Because he's my happiness, the reason I want to continue living and I don't consider that as a weakness Fergal, or stupidity. And if you think of it as such, then what kind of love do you have for Mercedes?"

"Mercedes and I have an understanding you won't ever be able to understand," Fergal grits out angrily.

Rebecca scoffs, "Oh, you do? You, a person who has closed himself from the world? Who lives in his own little world where everything and anything has to be done according to his wishes? You won't even share your problems with me Fergal and by your words a moment ago, it's obvious you don't share anything with Mercedes either because you believe in suffering alone, that nobody will understand you, that one should never depend on anyone. And if you can't share your burdens with Mercedes, then what is the point of being in a relationship? I don't have a problem, Fergal. You do. I feel bad for Mercedes for it's clear you don't love her like a woman deserves to be loved by a man."